“I protect my family.”
“And I protect mine.”
The air between us tightens like a noose and when all the air feels like it’s been sucked out of the car, she pushes open her door and steps out without looking at me.
Good.
I watch her stalk toward the elevator like she’s heading into a fight she refuses to lose. A grin lifts my lips. Breaking her will be worth all the effort.
She still thinks she’s trapped.
She thinks this marriageis a cage I built around her.
She’s wrong.
I didn’t marry her to survive this war.
I married her to win it.
And if she believes I won’t burn down whatever’s left of her world to make sure my family remains untouched?—
She hasn’t been paying attention.
11
TIERNEY
Back in the penthouse, I kick off my heels at the front door and head straight for the kitchen.
I need a drink. Something stronger than the polite water I sipped while his mother dissected me.
Allegra Viacava is a real piece of work.
A week ago I was free. Now I’m performing for psychopaths.
I reach for a bottle of red wine on the rack, grab the biggest tall-stemmed glass I can find and pad barefoot to the sitting room. When I get there, Bronx is standing by the bar, whiskey in hand and his shirt open at the collar.
He prowls toward me when I sit on the couch. “Let me open that for you,” he says.
“How about no?”
Instead of listening, he snatches the bottle, returns to the bar and uses a corkscrew to remove the cork.
“How did you translate the word no to ‘oh, yes please, darling husband, please pop my cork’?”
Bronx joins me on the couch and pours the deep red merlot into the glass. “There are way too many words in that sentence that have my dick throbbing, wife.”
I sigh, reach for the glass, and take a long drink. Sitting deeper into the couch, I glare at him and hate how hot he looks in a pressed shirt and dress pants. Damien wore jeans and t-shirt as standard.
“There are other rooms in this bachelor penthouse, you know,” I mutter. “And other seats.”
He unclips his cufflinks and slides his sleeves to his elbows so the ink on his forearms is visible, then reaches for his whiskey tumbler.
“If you don’t like my apartment, or where I sit when I’m in my apartment, then leave.”
Air shoots down my nostrils. “Leave?”
He cocks a brow and stares right at me. “Yeah, leave.”
