She must be insatiable.
Unless, of course, she’s fucking her cousin.
Shaking my head, I sit on the bench in the closet and lean my elbows on my knees, close my eyes for a second, and calm my shit so I don’t start dialing Blake and asking for a hitman when I can take care of this problem all on my own.
My phone rings, and I pick up without reading the name on the screen. It’s six ten in the morning, and only one person calls me that early.
“Hey,” I answer.
“Hey,” Blake says, voice still gruff. I picture him sitting in Grandpa’s old chair before the view of the city. That’s what Blake does at this time. Sits and thinks on that chair. “I have the summary of your surveillance footage.”
“Have you watched it?”
“No.”
“Thank you, Blake.”
“Anytime. Call me if you need something.”
“I might.” I might call in a hit, and my brother knows the people who can get it done, because I sure as fuck can’t ask Benny’s daddy to pop his nephew.
I groan. This cousin thing is more complicated than I’d like. When I married her, Blake warned me the kind of people I’d have to deal with for the rest of my life because I’m marrying into a Mafia family. I have to take great care with how I’ll solve this problem.
Sliding my phone into my pocket, I leave my room and head for hers across the hallway. I press my ear against the cold wood, hoping to hear something.
Trying the lock, I twist and enter on quiet feet. Standing by the bed, I watch her sleep. She’s hugging the large pillow, her long hair fanning out and falling over it, one pink pajama strap slipping off the shoulder. Face delicate and serene, she looks peaceful, innocent, defenseless.
When I tire of standing, I sit on the chair in the corner right by the window and open the blinds a little. Not enough to rouse her from sleep, but enough so the sun, when it rises fully, can light up her face.
Oddly, I feel at peace here watching her sleep.
Oddly, I don’t want to view the security video Blake sent me.
I want to sit in the room with her and do nothing, and I don’t care if emails are waiting and my secretary won’t have a morning brief before she starts her day.
11
BENEDETTA
Living with Hudson is still a bit awkward, made more awkward by the fight we had yesterday. After I showered and dressed, while I linger in the closet, I stand before my suitcase line. I haven’t dared unpack for the weeks I’ve been here. One never knows what might come out of the strange marriage I find myself in.
Yesterday, I thought things were going great, and they were going great until Hudson lost his shit on Brando and I confronted him about it. I hate that he exposed what I’d been feeling about my cousin for a few years now.
Brando didn’t always behave like this toward me.
It started only a couple of years ago, when I would sometimes catch him looking at me the way some other men on Daddy’s payroll do. At first, I thought I caught him in a bad moment or something, but as I got older, I recognized the gaze as lust.
I’ve never had a boyfriend, but I watch movies and homeschool with boys in the classroom online, and I see how they look at me and the other girls. I know the way they reach out in private, showing us girls their penises. Yeah, that was beforethe online school cracked down on student porn. For what it’s worth, it was better than any sex-ed class. At least I saw a dick or two before Hudson’s.
His is big. It fills my mouth, and I want to touch it, stroke it, have it inside me. I want to touch it whenever I want and not feel like I’m doing something wrong. He’s my husband. I should have access to his body. Granted, he said I don’t need permission to touch him, and so why I do feel like I do? Because we fought and now everything is awkward, and I don’t want to go downstairs at all.
I sit on the bed. Well, I can’t spend the rest of the week up here (can I?), and he’s not going anywhere anytime soon (is he?). Maybe he left already.
A pang of something I can’t put my finger on pricks my chest. I would miss him if he left.
I’m a terrible wife.
This is how it all starts. The cheating. Man comes home and fights with his wife. This creates distance and discomfort. The couple sleeps in separate rooms, and eventually, separate houses. That’s not quite how it worked for my parents, though. Mom would never leave Dad, and Dad would never leave Mom. It’s just how our family looks at it. Marriage is all in and forever, but happiness in marriage is optional. Nobody really gives a shit about the happiness in a marriage. It’s all just signed paperwork.
