“Then what?”
I shrug.
“Then sleep where you like, I couldn’t give a fuck.”
“Why are you so cruel?”
Tears fill her beautiful eyes, and she does ask a good question.
“Because I am cruel, princess, and the sooner you realize that the better for you.”
I pat the bed.
“So, we may as well get started. Take off your clothes.”
She says nothing and merely sneers at me before turning on her heels and slamming the door behind her.
CHAPTER 25
TIFFANY
Joseph Ravera is the most infuriating, confusing, and despicable man I have ever met, and I will not play his game. I have options now, and my grandfather’s card sits like a welcome lifeline in troubled seas.
I wish I weren’t attracted to my husband. I wish I didn’t crave his touch or ache for his mouth on mine or any part of me that lives and breathes.
The fact that I even contemplated stripping for him is my biggest shame because in that moment I was tempted—for sure, and I hate myself for that.
I’m aware I’m in his home with no place to hide. Wherever I go, someone will be watching out for me, and it’s as if the walls are closing in on me. There is only one room that offers me peace and security of sorts. A safe place where he has admitted I can go when I have the need, and right now, I need it more than I ever did.
So, I slip inside the black room, and the moment the door closes behind me, I breathe a little easier.
Why does this place feel more like home than the convent ever did?
My breathing is calmer, as I lie with my back to the bench, concentrating on clearing my mind of everything crowding it right now.
My life has changed, and I’m still not certain if it’s for the better.
I am still uneasy, as so many doubts, worries, and problems run through my mind. I instinctively find the wedding band on my finger and I twirl it around, wondering why I’m not disgusted with the fact it’s here at all.
I like being married, and it’s only been one day already.
When I saw the bed we will share, blood pumped through my body like a lit trail of gunpowder. What will it be like? Probably cold, cruel and impersonal, like my husband. But there is something good in him that reveals itself at the right moment.
It’s as if I have reached a brick wall at the end of my journey. I have no way out except to go back to the beginning. The convent, perhaps. Was that really my safe place or merely the waiting room for my life to begin?
Meeting my grandfather today revealed a part of me I was never interested in before. My mother’s side. I must be a freak for not being curious about her.
Many years ago, I switched off that particular faucet in my mind. I have no wish to meet with her, talk with her, or understand her, and the fact she’s drying out in a facility for alcoholics tells me everything I need to know.
Then there’s Morgan. I am so ready for that battle. It’s now that I realize how much I need Joseph. He is exactly what I require to bring that woman down, and if that means her death, I will dance happily on her grave.
Revenge is a sin and retribution a necessity to move forward with my life without fear.
I want that so badly I will do anything to make it happen, so I swing my legs off the bench, my heart pounding as I make my way to the door.
Can I do this? Am I really that desperate? But as her cruel sneer taunts me in every crevice of my mind, determination powers my steps toward the attic room.
I say nothing as I head inside, Joseph leaning back against the headboard, his blank expression revealing nothing.
