Page 22 of Married to the Ruthless Mafia Heir

Starting today, this woman who'd schemed her way into my bed was my wife.

What a joke of a marriage. No love. Just transactions.

I drained the bottle. My head started to fog. Turned over, closed my eyes, tried to sleep. It wouldn't come.

Something stirred in the bathroom.

Then came the sound of muffled crying.

I was surprised. Elena was crying? A woman that calculating, crying?

Irritation crawled through me. But underneath it, something else. Guilt, maybe. Shame. I thought about how she'd looked sitting on the bed waiting for me. So fragile. So obedient. Didn't seem like someone who'd drug a man and climb into his bed.

She'd stood up to Miss Vitali, protected the Moretti name at the wedding. Handled herself well.

She had too many faces. Who the hell was Elena? I had no answer.

"Stop crying."

I walked to the bathroom door and knocked hard. "What's there to cry about? This is what you wanted, isn't it?"

The words were still harsh, but my tone had softened. She was just a girl in her twenties. Much as I hated her, I shouldn't be such a bastard about it. That wasn't how Moretti men operated.

My voice just made her cry harder. Really pushing it. But the sound was muffled, like she had her head buried. Not wailing. Just sobbing.

"Miss Vitali came at you, you fought back. Why do you just take it from me?" I demanded. "Is this your strategy? Play weak and victimized, make me pity you, make me fall for you? Elena, that's pathetic."

She didn't answer.

"Or maybe you're just a bully? You're scared of me, but you know Vitali's nothing, so you're not afraid of them?"

My thoughts were spinning out of control.

Finally, she spoke. "I'm not."

She'd moved closer to the door. Her voice was thick with tears, but clearer now. "Dante, I'm not like that..."

"Hard to believe you."

"This marriage—you didn't want it. I feel terrible about that. I've been trying to apologize to you." Her voice broke up, coming through the door in pieces. I could picture her, face streaked with tears.

She wanted to apologize? That was unexpected.

"So no matter what I do to you, you'll just take it, because you feel bad?" I asked.

She waited before answering, like she was confirming something to herself. "Yes. I'm really sorry, Dante. What happened—that was wrong. So however you treat me, I can accept it. But I don't know Miss Vitali. When she humiliatedme, she was humiliating the Moretti family. I couldn't let that happen."

Her logic tracked.

But her words and her actions didn't connect.

If she knew she'd wronged me, why drug me? Her apology was a joke.

I laughed coldly. Saw right through her. "All this, and you're just trying to win Salvador's approval."

She went quiet again.

I yanked the door open. Elena sat on the floor, arms wrapped around her knees. She looked up, tears catching the light in her eyes, her nightgown falling open at the chest, showing curves.