Page 2

I do not need my eyes. I know that smell before he speaks. Tuscan leather, aged scotch, and that sinful bite of cinnamon that has haunted me since I was eighteen. I hate that I still want to lean into it.

"Hiding from me already, Kitten?"

His voice is smooth, smug, and lazy. It makes me want to rip his throat out with my teeth.

I tip my face toward the silhouette blocking the sun and let the wind throw my red hair around my shoulders. My heart slams against my ribs. I make my shoulders drop anyway and smooth my sundress over my lap like I am made of ice.

He wants a quiet little blind wife. A doll who spreads her legs and thanks him for the fuck.

I tip my chin up so the sun hits the edge of my jaw beneath the scarlet ribbon.

"I'm not hiding, Romeo," I say, sweet as poison. "Just enjoying the sun on my skin before I decide how I'm going to kill you."

A low chuckle rumbles in his chest, dark enough to feel like it's striking me right between my legs. The shadow of his towering frame shifts as he closes the distance between us with long, unhurried strides.

Before I can get my feet under me, his hands slide under my arms and lift me off the stone like I weigh nothing.

"Hey! Put me down, you bastard!" I shout, kicking my bare legs out, but my heels only connect with the hard muscle of his thighs.

"Careful, Kitten. We’re on a cliff. I do so love watching you squirm. I, however, do not love the thought of scraping you off the rocks below."

Romeo pulls me against his chest and hooks my legs around his hips before I can protest. His left arm wraps around my lower back like an iron band, pinning me tight against his hard torso. The scent of him hits me hard: leather, aged scotch, and that bite of cinnamon.

His free hand reaches up, his rough fingers tangling in the hair at my nape and tilting my head back.

"You've been out here long enough to get cold," he murmurs, his lips brushing the sensitive skin below my ear. The stubble on his jaw grazes my neck, sending a violent shiver coursing straight down my spine. "Your skin is freezing, Iris. Did you forget your slippers inside?"

"Do not touch me," I hiss, shoving both palms into his hard chest. The bastard doesn't move an inch, as if I'm a slight breeze. His chest flexes under my palms, feeling as hard as marble, and the heat through his shirt feels like a betrayal. "I said, 'Put me down!'"

"No." His voice drops into that tone that does not let anyone boss him around, with a hint of amusement as I struggle. "You belong in bed resting after what we did last night. You're sore and trembling, and you need to eat."

"I do not need anything from you!" My voice cracks with fury, my fingernails digging into the fabric of his shirt. "I heard you, Romeo. I heard what you said to Gemma inside your office."

The air between us turns completely still.

The low hum of his amusement vanishes in an instant. His fingers tighten slightly in my hair, holding me steady, but he does not flinch. His heartbeat beneath my palm remains calm, steady, and infuriatingly slow.

"Did you now?" he asks quietly.

"Wife," I spit the word directly into his face. "You called me your wife. Since when am I your wife, you psychotic freak? We never had a wedding. I never stood before a priest with you. I never said I do!"

Romeo lets out a slow, measured breath against my forehead. He does not sound surprised, nor does he sound apologetic. He sounds like a man who has had this whole plan mapped out for years and is merely waiting for the final piece to fall into place.

"You've been my wife for two years, eleven months, and sixteen days, Iris."

My breath catches in my throat. The precision of the timeline hits me like a fist to the solar plexus.

"How?" The word escapes my lips in a strangled rasp.

"After the church," Romeo answers smoothly, his thumb stroking along the curve of my jawline, tracing the faint ridged scar tissue that begins at my temple and runs toward the bridge of my nose. When you were in the ICU, Danny realized what his weakness had cost you and handed over your hand in marriage to save his neck. I paid the doctors. I brought in the best specialists in the country to rebuild your face and save whatever vision you had left. I signed the marriage license with your father as legal witness while you slept, Kitten. You took my last name before they even removed the stitches from your eyes."

A cold, sickening wave of nausea rolls through my stomach.

"You bought me," I whisper, my eyes stinging behind the silk ribbon. "My father sold me to you, and you stole my life while I was unconscious."

"I didn't buy you," Romeo growls, his tone suddenly harsh and dangerous, the dark mob boss replacing last night's gentle lover. He jerks my head back another inch, forcing me to face his shadowed features. "Your father threw you away. The Irish mob failed you. I claimed what was already mine. I have protected you every day since that blood dried on your skin. I gave you the penthouse. I gave you Inga. I gave you Sofia. I watched you heal, and I waited until you were strong enough to handle this life."

"You drugged my tea!" I scream, thrashing in his grip, my fists pounding against his shoulders. "You slipped into my bed while I was asleep, like I was yours to take!"