On my way back to the room, I bump into Tatiana as she exits the guest bathroom. The moonlight that spills through the big windows falls over her pale skin and hair. She’s dressed in one of the full-sleeved silk nightdresses I bought for her that reaches her ankles. Even on her injured feet, she walks like a queen, coming across more like an apparition than human.
I stop short of her. “I hope for your sake you didn’t consider sleeping anywhere other than in my bed. Your ass won’t like the consequences.”
She looks at me for a moment, her sad eyes as tormented as ever, and then she walks past me and enters our room.
Good girl.
I follow and get into bed next to her, pulling her into my arms. She stiffens, but she doesn’t fight me. Although, even as she lets me hold her, I can sense her drifting away from me and escaping into her mind.
I kiss her shoulder. “Don’t shut me out, Tatiana. I won’t allow it. You’re only wasting your time.”
She freezes. Her tone is anything but warm. “Don’t.”
So I don’t. I don’t push it. I give her time. But the possessive part of me doesn’t like it. The part that won’t settle for anything less than everything grows darker and uglier. Because it recognizes another truth.
Her body has never been enough. I want to own her heart and soul. And as long as Tatiana rejects me, she’ll never truly be mine.
Chapter
Fifteen
Tatiana
* * *
After the stunt Dante pulled with the contract, I avoid him as much as possible. He asks Jazz to stay until the wedding, which is already happening next week, offering—or rather, ordering—her the position of bridesmaid.
I told her about the prenuptial agreement and how efficiently my hands are tied. She’s been nothing but sympathetic and supportive. I think that’s the real reason Dante wants her around. He’s not worried about her shooting off her mouth because he’ll just end the life of any person who opposes his plans. He probably knows I would’ve gone out of my mind without Jazz’s company.
She always has my back, but lately, she’s been pointing out all Dante’s not-so-evil characteristics. Sure, he’s a model dad, and I can’t fault him for taking care of Jazz’s, Noah’s, and my physical needs. But inside, he’s still the same monster that showed its true nature on the night he murdered my parents. Jazz is just trying to make me feel better as I don’t have a choice but to do as Dante dictates.
The days are warm, so when Dante is out, I play with Noah in the pool. True to his word, Dante had a fence with a gate installed. Only he and I have a key. Jazz doesn’t like water, so she never goes swimming with us.
Of course, Noah is in his element with his new home and big garden. He has a whole collection of stuffed toys now, thanks to Dante, but the dinosaur remains his favorite. It’s been his friend through many hard years, and he’s more attached to it than any other toy.
Dante employed a cleaning company that comes in twice a week. He asked if I wanted to interview a housekeeper and a cook, but I prefer to take care of those chores myself. Jazz helps, and keeping busy prevents me from going crazy.
When it comes to the running of the household, Dante makes the rules. He leaves for the office at the crack of dawn but comes home early to play soccer and other games with Noah. As per his instruction, we have dinner together as a family at seven sharp. He always helps with tidying the kitchen, and he never misses out on Noah’s bedtime story.
Noah has grown used to both Dante and me tucking him in. To be honest, my son is thriving on the attention. He’s more extroverted and chattier than usual. When Jazz and I are busy during the day, he plays soccer with Dante’s men. I have a suspicion that some of them are on duty for that reason only, especially Ted. The ones who patrol the perimeters of the property and stand guard at the gates are never distracted, but there are always a couple of men readily available to act as goalkeeper or to teach Noah new tricks.
The toughest part of the day is after dinner. It’s when Dante and I are alone in his room and he strips me naked from the waist down. It’s when he brings me pleasure and my body betrays me. Sometimes, he spanks me with his hand or his belt. Sometimes, he fucks my ass. But every night, he asks me to strip completely and show him my breasts. Every night, without fail, he asks to kiss me, and every night, my answer is the same.
Never.
I’ll never show him my scars. He can never know why my back is marred beyond recognition. As for my kisses, Dante no longer deserves them. I’ll never be the stupid girl who fell for his lies again. This time, I’m protecting my heart.
All the while, the clock ticks on toward our wedding day. As Dante isn’t making any arrangements, I reckon we’ll get married in front of a magistrate and have a quiet dinner with Noah and Jazz at the house. My tension grows as the day gets closer, but on the upside, it means Jazz will be able to leave and finally go back to her own life.
Two days before D-day, Dante comes home extra early. It’s so unusual for him to break his routine that I’m instantly nervous when he walks into the modern kitchen with its black marble counters and stainless steel shelves. He’s still dressed in the dark suit and shirt he wore to the office.
I glance at him from under my eyelashes where I’m stirring tomato sauce in a pot on the stove. He’s lost the tie. The top buttons of the shirt are open, hinting at the hard chest and ink beneath.
He saunters over to Noah, who’s sitting at the table and drawing pictures of families with moms, dads, and kids, and kisses the top of his head. “Hey, buddy. What have you been up to today?”
“Look.” Noah turns the drawing around for Dante to see. He presses a finger on each of the stick men and women that stand in front of a black house. “That’s you, that’s Mommy, and that’s me. And that’s Jazz.” He points at a brown four-legged animal that resembles a donkey. “And that’s my dog.”
“Mm.” Dante leans over Noah for a better look. “A dog, huh? I guess we better get you one then.” He looks at me. “If your mom agrees.”
