I lie there, staring at the ceiling.
I wanted her compliant. Wanted her to stop fighting. Wanted her to fall in line and be the perfect Marini wife.
And I got exactly what I wanted.
Except I don't want this.
I want the woman who challenged me. Who made me think. Who looked at me like I was more than just a killer.
I want the woman who fell asleep on my chest at the beach house. Who told me she loved me even when I couldn't say it back. Who tried so hard to matter.
But that woman is gone.
I killed her when I gave her to Adrian.
And I don't know how to bring her back.
Or if I even can.
Marcello finds me in my study the next morning.
"You look like shit."
"Thanks."
"How's Gemma?"
I don't answer.
He sits down. Studies me. "That bad?"
"She's..." I struggle for words. "Compliant. Obedient. Everything I thought I wanted."
"But?"
"But she's not there. It's like looking at a photograph of her. The image is right, but there's nothing behind it."
"I heard Adrian disowned her."
The words hit like a punch. "He did."
"Guessing she didn't take it well."
I snort. "Fucking understatement."
He stands. "I told you it was a mistake. You didn't listen."
"You said to get rid of her?—"
"I said she was a problem. I didn't say to fucking break her." He moves to the door. "Fix it, Saint. Before you lose her completely."
"How?"
He looks back at me. "I don't know. But figure it out fast. Because a woman with nothing to lose? She's the most dangerous thing in the world. And you just made your wife that woman."
He leaves.
I sit there, his words echoing.
