I pushed myself up, getting to my feet and looking around at the mess, when my SUV rounded the corner, speeding toward me, coming to a jarring stop. As I turned back to grab her hand, not caring how scared she was, she slapped my hand away.
“Don’t fucking touch me!” she screamed angrily, getting to her feet.
“Get in the fucking car,” I seethed, pissed at her defiance.
“No.” She glared at me, her chest heaving with anger and fear, but I barely registered it—my mind was already scanning the scene for any lingering threats. The street was littered with debris, glass sparkling under the harsh glow of streetlights, and somewhere in the distance, sirens wailed, growing louder by the second. I forced myself to focus, knowing we only had moments before the chaos drew unwanted attention and more trouble.
“We need to go!” Milo shouted from the front seat.
She hesitated, her fists clenched at her sides, but the urgency in Milo’s voice cut through her anger. With one last glare in my direction, she finally moved, stumbling toward the SUV. I followed close behind, adrenaline still surging as I scanned the shadows for any sign the attackers might return. As soon as I slammed the door shut, the vehicle accelerated, sending us hurtling away from the chaos and into the tentative safety of the night.
My breaths were ragged, heart pounding like a war drum as I steadied myself against the cool glass of the window. The city lights blurred past, streaks of gold and red in the night, but my focus stayed locked on her mutinous silhouette in the seat beside me. The silence in the SUV was thick—charged with everything unspoken, every raw nerve and wounded pride between us.
Neither of us dared to break it, not while my driver, Oscar, maneuvered through the labyrinth of city streets, his knuckles white on the steering wheel. I caught her glancing at me from the corner of her eye—fear, defiance, and something else mixing in her expression. I wanted to reach for her, to say something that would ground us, but the words burned in my throat, too heavy to release.
The second we were in the safety of my family home, I let loose everything I’d been holding in. Grabbing her by the throat, I shoved her up against the wall and sneered, “When I tell you to do something, you damn well better fucking do it.”
Her eyes widened, defiance flickering before a cold mask slid into place. For a moment, neither of us moved. The air between us was charged and suffocating. I could feel her pulse racing beneath my grip, stubborn and furious, and I waited—daring her to challenge me again, knowing I was already teetering on the edge.
“Get your hands off me,” she hissed, her eyes burning with insolence and a fierce rage that almost mirrored my own.
My grip tightened as a hardened, dangerous growl rumbled from deep within my soul. “Don’t test me,wife. You will not win.”
Her eyes narrowed as a slow smile appeared on her lips. For a long, suffocating heartbeat, neither of us moved. Her chest rose and fell rapidly beneath my grip, and I could see a storm of emotions flickering behind her eyes—fear, fury, and maybe something dangerously close to understanding. The hallwayaround us felt a hundred miles wide and impossibly small all at once, closing in with the tension we’d spun between us.
Finally, I released her, letting my hand fall away as if burned. She remained pressed against the wall, jaw clenched, refusing to give me the satisfaction of backing down. I turned away first, but the image of her—unyielding and wild—seared itself into my mind.
Storming away from her, I didn’t think and headed for Cesar’s office. The second I slammed the door shut, I turned and punched a hole in the wall, letting go of the fury I’d tightly contained.
“Guess it didn’t go well.”
Seething, I slowly turned toward my brother. “Barbari attacked. He knows I’m married thanks to Thorpe’s big fucking mouth.”
“What the hell happened?” Cesar asked as the rest of my brothers walked into the office.
“Barbari,” I admitted, as I removed my coat with trembling hands. “He was at the restaurant. Her friend caused a scene, drawing attention to us. Barbari overheard that we were married, so he stuck around just long enough to see for himself before leaving. But when we headed out afterward, he attacked. He’s after revenge for his daughter.”
Emanuelle, quick to catch on, questioned me sharply. “Kate? Why?”
“Because I got the bitch pregnant,” I spat, my admission tasting like bile. “When I refused to acknowledge the kid, he demanded honor. I told him to go fuck himself. I wasn’t shackling my ass to some whore.”
The cruelty of my own confession echoed in the silence.
It was a truth I’d clung to, a defense mechanism, but now, it felt like the basest of lies. I had valued my freedom, my reputation, my perceived purity, over the well-being of anotherhuman being. That thought was a poison that seeped into every corner of my being.
Luca, with a sigh that held the weariness of a thousand battles, broke the suffocating tension. His voice, edged with a grim dark humor, was an attempt to lighten the mood, but it only amplified the underlying horror. “Let me guess,” he said. “He didn’t take it well.”
I shot him a glare, my irritation a thin veil over the turmoil raging within me.
My patience snapped under the weight of the moment. “What the fuck do you think?” I shot back, my voice slicing through the tension in the room. Each word was sharp, edged with the bitterness I could not hide. The others fell silent, the enormity of my mistakes settling over us like a suffocating shroud. I could feel the gravity of what I had done—an inescapable, crushing burden that pressed on my chest and made it hard to breathe. The irreversible damage I was responsible for was no longer just my cross to bear; it pulled everyone in the room into its orbit, binding us together in dread and regret.
Cesar took a controlled breath before answering. “It was bound to come out eventually. What about yourwife?”
“She’s a pain in the ass.”
“Most women are.” Cesar laughed under his breath, but his expression was laced with concern. “That’s never stopped you before.”
I clenched my fists, unwilling to admit how much his words stung. The truth was, this fake marriage was quickly becoming a battlefield—one that neither of us seemed willing to surrender.
