“She looked at me like something inside her broke before she ever reached that altar.” I tilted my head slightly. “So let’s try this again.”
His breathing turned ragged. “What. Did. You. Tell. Her.”
“Nothing!” he shouted. The room went still. Ventura realized he’d lost control of himself. Too late. Sweat poured down his face now while he clutched his stomach harder. Good.
I rose slowly to my feet. Towering over him.
“She thinks I married her for a reason,” I said softly. “Something changed before the wedding.”
“I don’t know what’s going on inside that girl’s head,” Ventura hissed desperately. “She’s always been dramatic-”
My hand slammed onto the desk beside him hard enough to splinter wood. Ventura flinched violently. Sergio smiled.
“Careful,” he murmured. “Boss hates when people insult his wife.”
Ventura’s eyes widened slightly at that. Wife. Not bargaining chip. Not alliance. Interesting how quickly possessiveness had rooted itself inside me. I leaned closer slowly.
“You bruised her,” I said quietly. “You terrorized her for years.” My voice dropped lower. “And now she wakes up screaming in my bed.”
“I disciplined my daughter-” Ventura coughed.
“No.” My gaze locked onto his. “You broke her.”
Ventura’s mouth tightened stubbornly. Then, despite the sweat dripping down his temples and the fear hollowing his face, he spat out: “You’ll never prove anything.”
Ah. There he was. The real Lorenzo Ventura. Cruel. Cowardly. And arrogant enough to think surviving this was still possible. I smiled slowly. Coldly. “That’s unfortunate.”
His face paled further. “What?”
I adjusted my cufflinks calmly. “Because I was actually hoping you’d confess.”
Real fear flickered across his expression now. “I told you the truth.”
“No,” I corrected softly. “You told me a version of it.”
Ventura stumbled backward as another wave of panic rolled through him. His breathing sharpened violently.
“You’re bluffing,” he said again, weaker this time. I tilted my head. Right on cue, his body folded with a choked gasp as pain ripped through his stomach.
The poison itself wouldn’t fully activate for hours. But fear? Fear was beautiful. Fear made the body destroy itself long before toxins ever needed to. Ventura collapsed against the desk shaking.
Sergio took a slow sip of bourbon beside him. “Jesus,” he mused. “You really never learn.”
“P-Please-” Ventura rasped. I crouched in front of him one final time.
“The next few days are going to hurt,” I said mildly. “A lot.”
Terror widened his eyes.
“You’ll sweat first. Then fever.” I smiled faintly. “By day three, you’ll wish for death.”
“You fucking monster,” he choked.
“No.” I rose smoothly to my feet again. “Monsters kill quickly.”
Ventura grabbed desperately at my sleeve. “Leonardo-”
I looked down at his trembling hand touching my suit. Then slowly back at him.
