She laughs—sharp, humorless, and drains her drink. “Why? So whoever he has watching me doesn’t hear while he’s brooding and making unilateral decisions about my life?”
I finally turn. She’s flushed, eyes bright with fury, red dress clinging like it’s making a point. Not drunk. Just done.
“You married him.”
She slams the glass down. “Heforcedthat. Him and my brother! That’snotthe same thing.”
Fair.
From Cartel princess to the Queen of Cosa Nostra and she refuses to take the throne because it was forced.
Stubborn woman.
Too hot for Angelo. Too sharp for the role he wants her to play.
A waitress appears. I give a single nod. Another drink lands in front of Adriana without her asking.
She exhales, scrubs a hand through her hair. “He doesn’t ask. He doesn’t explain. He decides and waits for me to… comply.” Her mouth twists. “So I stopped giving him anything. Silence is the only thing he can’t control.”
I study her. The way she holds herself tight, like she’s daring the world to shove first.
“He thinks silence is punishment.” I shake my head once. “It’s not.”
Her gaze locks onto mine. Really locks. “Then what is it?”
“A warning.” I take a slow sip. “And one he’s not listening to.”
She huffs. “You sound like you’ve seen this before.”
The empty bed flashes through my head.
The folded shirt.
“I have.”
Adriana leans back, eyes narrowing. “Uh-oh. Who is she?”
I hesitate half a second too long.
Her grin spreads. “Oh, Iknewit. You don’t get that look over a bad investment.”
I take a sip of my drink. “She’s trouble.”
Her smile softens, just a notch. “Thedangerouskind?”
“The quiet kind.” I tilt my head. “Those are worse.”
She raises her glass. “God help her.”
I clink mine against it. “He already did, when she slipped out of my bed this morning.”
Adriana gasps, a smirk curling across her crimson lips as she leans in.
“Give me the chisme.”
Chapter 10
Ayla
