I squeeze lightly and drag her closer to me, needing her with every sinful fiber of my being and every pump of my black heart. She’s right. Contradicting her would be pointless.
She meets my gaze, not intimidated that I hold her life in my hand. “So, are you into rape now?”
That douses the fire burning me up, and my hand drops to my side where I clench and unclench it. There’s not a single person who could shatter my control like her.
“You’ll be the one begging.”
She bursts into deprecating laughter. “You wait for that. Let’s catch up in fifty years.”
I arch a brow, jerking my chin at her. “For someone who doesn’t want to be bound to me, you’re already planning our golden anniversary.”
“Ugh,” she mumbles and looks out.
“No honeymoon then?” I ask, hoping she can meet me halfway, just her and me away from the reality of our world, enjoying some blissful togetherness. She’ll give in. Eventually.
“No, stop trying. Just stop.”
“I can’t,mo run. I can’t.”
She waves me off, turning her back to me. “Then you’re just delusional.”
“No, just a man in love,” I confess.
She whips her head at me, her eyes welling up. “You have no idea what love is? All you want is power. And you used me to acquire even more.”
My jaw sets in a hard line, pressing my molars together hard enough they might crack. “It’s one thing if the entire world believes that, but you should know better. You let me fuck you, Viviana, perfectly aware which family you come from.”
She huffs, saying haughtily. “Dario wouldn’t have minded.”
My pulse skyrockets, threatening to burst the vein in my neck and I get in her face, snarling, “Say his name one more time in my presence and I will end him, consequences be damned. Don’t test me on that. Don’t talk about other men, don’t say other men’s names in my presence. And especially not fucking his. Just don’t.”
The car falls silent. Only my ragged breathing breaks through.
She stares back at me with a murderous expression on her face. Nostrils flaring, her pupils darken with a challenge.
I drag a hand down my face. “I get you’re mad. But don’t play this jealousy game. It will end up deadly. You won’t like the repercussions. I’ve slain men for less.”
“He’s my friend,” she sighs, but doesn’t say his name. Smart woman.
“That friend of yours will end up buried with the rest. I have a special place for it.”
She gasps, shock replacing the hardness. “You don’t.”
“Do you think I breed horses just for fun?”
“Oh my god,” she says, slapping a palm on her mouth, and eyeing me with wide eyes.
“Yes, wife. I’m a monster. A jealous and territorial one at that. But what I am not is a fucking rapist,” I say, opening the door the instant the driver parks.
Her smile is back the moment she notices eyes on us. I glare until she elbows me.
“Should have taken some lessons in pretense from you,” I grumble.
“Or you could have simply not betrayed me. Not married me. So many things, husband,” she grits out as we enter the posh location.
White peonies and candlelight decorate the round tables scattered around the room. The ballroom drips with refinement from the flower archway to the silver cutlery and cream tablecloths.
People wait years for a reservation. I made one phone call.
