“Your— Oh! I had no idea. I’m so terribly sorry.”
“I am certain that you are. Please convey my regrets to your father. It is indeed unpleasant to see such a long-standing and respectable establishment go suddenly bankrupt.”
“Sir, I…uh…I don’t understand.”
“You made my wife cry, Tamara. You will understand tomorrow.”
My husband doesn’t spare her another look as his hand moves from my face to the small of my back. “Let’s go. They will send everything to the house.”
The silence that follows us to the door is heavy. Like the weight of the glares that both women must be shooting at me.
As we descend the stone steps from the shop to the street level, I ask, “What happens tomorrow?”
“Your car is having brake issues.” We stop beside his limo, and he opens the back door, ignoring my question completely. “Theo will take you home in mine.”
“Okay.” I slide inside the lavish vehicle and, turning to meet his gaze, I repeat, “What happens tomorrow?”
“I destroy their business.”
My jaw hits the floor. “You can’t do that. It was a simple misunderstanding. Do you have any idea how many people’s livelihoods might depend on that shop?”
“I don’t give a fuck and can do whatever the hell I want.”
“Please. Please don’t be like that.”
He halts, his gaze finding and locking with mine. “I am who I am, little flower. I’ve never pretended otherwise. At least, not with you.”
The door latches shut with a soft snick. A moment later, the vehicle pulls into bustling traffic.
No. He never hid who he is from me.
I slump back into the buttery leather seat and close my eyes, hoping to shake off the maelstrom of feelings raging inside me. Crushing my chest under their force. Sinking to the pit of my stomach as if weighted by boulders. Some are still grounded in the shame levied on me by the sales lady who so nicely cast me out of the store. Others are burdened by the regret and guilt of potentially hurting many ordinary workers with my inability to hide the truth from my husband. He obviously figured out what happened to me at that shop and is ready to unleash his wrath. But, there’s something else, too… Something I’m reluctant to admit even to myself.
There’s…joy.
Not like carefree happiness or glee, but joy born from a moment of contentment. Because he stood up for me. My husband declared that he will destroy that business, and with it, that woman’s privileged life. I don’t have a single doubt that he is capable of it and will do just what he said. And I liked it. Not the “destroying” part, of course. But that he would do it because of me. To avenge me somehow. I never really had anyone defend me before. Never had anyone to lean on to right the wrongs done to me.
But as I’m basking in the warmth of that feeling, an image of that poor man—the donor—invades my mind. Adriano somehow persuaded him to take his own life so my mom could get his heart. The mere thought of it is sickening. Abhorrent. Only adespicable man would conceive of something like that. And yet… Despite knowing he orchestrated it all simply to make sure I would do his bidding… Despite being fully aware that no feelings were involved, and I personally was in no way the catalyst for it… He kind of did itforme. Arranged a man’s death to save my mom’s life. Deep, deep down, a small part of my heart flutters.
Jesus.
I shake my head, trying to banish these thoughts about my mercurial husband. Purge the feelings he is making me feel. Deny the truth, because accepting it would be terrible. Inconceivable. Hypocritical.
Adriano Ruffo has no care whatsoever for other people’s feelings or how his actions impact those around him—the things I hold in the highest regard.
Without remorse, he has stepped over literal corpses to achieve his goals—something I couldn’t even imagine.
Based on what I’ve witnessed so far, I think he’s incapable of feeling even the slightest concern for anyone but himself—not another human being, maybe not even his own pet.
Knowing all that…
How could I ever fall for a man like him?
I never could.
Right?
***
