I slip the silky blindfold off the knob and tie it securely over my eyes. All that’s left now is for me to wait for that familiar sound of the door being opened.
And hope… Hope that spending this evening with my silent guest will help me forget that, come tomorrow, I’ll be married to the most ruthless man I know.
As usual, the lights in the room are down so low that barely an outline of the furniture is visible. A pitcher of fresh lemonade is on the coffee table. Two glasses are set beside it, ready to be filled. The sofa I sit in is facing hers, just as it always is.
Five weeks.
Five weeks I’ve been deprived ofher.
My Little Scheherazade, whose stories I crave as my lungs crave air.
I nearly lost my fucking mind because of it.
I need her. Her voice. Her calm presence. Her complete trust in me. The man she shouldn’t trust at all. And if she knew the truth…she wouldn’t.
Five weeks.
I can’t help but think I forced her hand. Could my moving up our wedding have led her here?
Tohim?
When I told Iris our new wedding date, she called me cruel. Accused me of deliberately keeping her mother from attending, given that it’s still too risky for the woman to be among a crowd after her heart transplant. I’m a heartless bastard who didn’t consider that when I changed the timing of our nuptials. She leveled all of that on me, blamed me for many things. Most of them true. Though not the bit about her mother. There are other forces at play.
The rhymey bastard sent two messages in the past month. The first arrived a day following Serafina Fabbri’s surgery and was vague as usual, but it did sound like he was now threatening a woman. So I assigned a full security team to protect my Iris.
The one this week, however, made that threat undeniably clear.
11:17 Unknown:
When one finds something rare,
He should guard her with great care.
A reckless moment without measure,
Could take away your priceless treasure.
After reading that shit, I sent my cell phone flying off the rooftop deck of Ruffo Enterprises Tower right into the harbor. Destroying my phone is the only outburst of rage I allow myself, and only when I’m alone. A fucking inconvenient problem. Because I had to trudge down to my office to use the landline to tell Brahms to double the protective detail on my future wife.
His minions have obviously been doing a good job, since she wasn’t able to give them the slip. Until tonight. To come to the Annex.
Heads will roll for this fuckup.
Five weeks.
Five damn weeks of not being able to be alone withher.
An eternity.
I need her. Need her like my next fucking breath.
She is my weakness. A vulnerability that can be exploited. A fault in the armor that surrounds me.
I can’t let it be seen.
I can’t even allow myself to accept it. Or admit the inconvenient truth.
I need her.
