"That's not?—"
"Isn't it?" I'm in his space now. "I killed a man, Saint. I took down the Pakhan of the Russian Bratva. But in that meeting, I was just the Don's wife. Quiet. Decorative. Useful only when you decide to use me, and sometimes, that is just for you to fuck."
He stands with a growl. "Don't fucking say that." We're eye to eye now, both of us breathing heavy. Saint backs down first. "What do you want?" he asks calmly.
I don't expect it, and for a moment, I wonder if this is another test. I hate how we don't trust one another. But I don't spend too much time focusing on that. Instead, I think about the question.
"I want a role."
"A role?"
"I want to be your equal."
He shakes his head. "No."
"Saint—" I mean to issue a warning, but it comes out as more of a plea.
"You aren't equal in this family," he says. "No one is. You know that."
I'm so frustrated I could scream. I might. I can feel it bubbling to the surface.
"But that doesn't mean there isn't a role for you."
"As your wife?" I challenge. "An extension of you." My voice rises. "I've been property my whole life. Bianca's daughter. Adrian's sister. Your wife. When do I get to be someone for myself?"
He glares at me, green eyes barely more than slits. "When you earn it."
The words hit like a slap.
"What?"
"You heard me." His voice is gentle but firm. "You want a role? Figure out what that looks like. I can tell you what it won't be. It won't be equal." He cups my face, squeezing slightly. "But it can be something. Tell me what it should be, and we will negotiate."
I don't have an answer. Because I didn't even expect him to take it seriously.
"That's what I thought." He kisses my forehead. "Figure it out. And then tell me what you want. What you really want. And we'll work on it."
He leaves me standing there.
Hating him. Hating myself more.
And mostly, being fucking confused.
Things feel normal.
Saint has more meetings. I'm not invited to these, and even if he asked me to join, I wouldn't. He clearly doesn't want me there.
When I ask about them, he gives me a vague answer.
"Business," he says. "Boring shit. You'd hate it."
Maybe I would. Maybe I wouldn't.
I'm not given the choice.
I spend the day in the compound. Reading. Thinking through the dilemma he gave me. He didn't give me a timeframe, and he hasn't brought it up since, but it's all I can think about.
Trying to define what I want. Once, Bianca gave me a role. I was an Heiress, future head of the family. Through no fault of my own, I lost it. Then, I became the architecture of our security, secretly of course.
