Morning comes faster than I thought it would. When I wake, I get up, dress, and wait. Nothing happens. The day goes on like any other. Rio didn’t sleep here…that much I’m certain of.
Three days go by the same way. Three days of walking around the estate pretending not to care that I’ve barely seen my husband since the morning after we got back. The routine is always the same: I wake up alone, eat breakfast alone,wander the endless, echoing halls, and then curl up on the window seat at sunset, hoping he might show. It’s not like I haven’t seen him, it’s just that he’s practically ignored my existence every time. Sometimes I catch a glimpse of him from the balcony, striding across the garden on a phone call, or coming in the side door with blood on his knuckles. Faint bruises trace his body but when I attempt to speak to him about them, I’m gifted with the shortest answers imaginable. He’s treating me like a leper.
On the third night, I lose it.
It’s the sound of breaking glass that finally pushes me over the edge. I’m in the library, attempting to read, when I hear the sharp sound of something shattering and then a string of curses in Spanish. I throw the book aside and follow the noise through the house.
His office door is open, the smell of alcohol in the air. Rio stands in the middle of the room, blood running down his fingers from a fresh cut. He’s glaring at the shards of a broken glass on the rug. For a second, I’m tempted to turn and run. He looks like a psychopath standing there all bruised and bloody. I don’t run though. Not this time.
“What the hell is your problem?” I demand, crossing the threshold and slamming the door behind me.
He looks up, surprised to see me.
“What are you doing in here?”
“Maybe I got tired of being ignored,” I snap, advancing on him. “Or maybe I just wanted to see what the cartel prince finally broke.”
He wipes the blood on his shirt, not even flinching.
“You want me to break something? Fine. I’ll start with you.”
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Rio
"You want me to break something? Fine. I'll start with you."
The words leave my mouth faster than I can comprehend but I won’t take them back. Because I do. I want to break her into little pieces before putting her back together again. I want to fuck her until she’s screaming my name. My real name, not the fabricated one I made up on a whim. She flinches, just barely, but I catch it and it's enough that my dick grows rock hard inside my pants. A sliver of satisfaction twists through the haze of pent up energy and anger. My hand is bleeding, my shirt ruined, but all I can focus on is her. She’s been walking around in tiny little shorts that show off just how perfect her tan legs really are. I imagine them wrapped around my head while I lick her pussy and groan internally. Fuck, it’s been too god damn long since I’ve gotten laid. Once with her in Prescott wasn’t enough and I don’t even remember how long it was before that. I don’t know why I haven’t just made a call. I could’ve had any woman in my bedin minutes…hell I could’ve had them in my car, the club, bent over the nearest cactus if I really wanted it. But I haven’t. I stalk forward until she has no choice but to back up against the bookshelf. She lifts her chin, playing brave, but her breathing tells the truth. She wants me. Even now. I want to hear her say it. I want to hear her beg for me.
“Tell me you want me to break you, Datura,” I purr into her ear.
Inside I’m dying. I’m practically begging her to say those words so I can lift her legs and fuck her right up against this very door. I could do it anyway. My father told me she comes from a world not much different from ours. She was sent here to me after all and although her cousins aren’t happy about it, they haven’t once made a move to remove her. They know better. My world is worse. So I could take her, right here and right now. I could bend her over my desk and fuck her while she screamed and cried for me to stop. I could use her like the other men in my family do with the tokens they collect. So why haven’t I?
“Not a chance,” she grits out, attempting to push my body back.
Annoyed, I let her and back up a step.
"I don't have time for a tantrum, Liana," I say, voice low and flat. "So why are you here?"
She surprises me by moving closer, until we're toe to toe, her eyes furious and, fuck me, she’s sexy.
"I'm sick of being locked up in this prison," she spits. "You ignore me and treat me like a leper. After you humiliated me by pretending to be someone else. I’m waiting on pins and needles for…I don’t even know what. You can’t expect me to just sit around like this. I'm not a damn dog, Rio."
The sound of my real name on her tongue does things to me that should be illegal. I grit my teeth and pretend it doesn’t affectme.
"It's safer for you here. You know that. Besides, what do you think married people do?"
‘Fuck, I don’t even know what married people are supposed to do. My mom didn’t stick around when we were younger and I only have memories of my parents fighting.’
"You don’t care if I’m safe. You just want me locked up while you get to trapeze around town doing whatever it is you do."
"Don’t say it like that. I still have a business to run. Believe it or not, my world doesn’t revolve around the spoiled little wife I had forced on me."
Hurt flashes across her face.
“Pinche,fuck, I didn’t mean it like that.” I try to step forward and grab her but she backs away from me again. “I just…I want to find a way to make this work. We are married now.” I run my fingers down my face, completely worn out from this conversation. “Can you just forgive me already so we can go back to the way it was before? I want to touch you without you acting so cold.”
“You mean you want to fuck me,” she says with a blank face.
