Page 103 of Venomous Throne

If I opened that door and faced him, what was I going to say? I wasn’t ready to forgive his actions. But I wanted desperately to understand the man. There was no point in having this conversation if I wasn’t going to be brave enough to face him.

I cracked the door.

Jaxon sat slumped, back to the jamb. His legs were tucked to his chest, arms flung loosely around them. That long, golden hair was still out of its binder, disheveled and ragged. He looked up at me, and I wasn’t prepared for the tornado of emotions swirling there.

“Sorry isn’t going to cut it,” I murmured.

And then I sank down to the ground, mirroring his posture.

“I don’t know how to fix this,” he admitted. “If I could go back, I would do it differently.”

The typical response to regret.

I wished there was wine, or even something stronger, to brace myself. I opened my mouth, and the words poured out of their own accord.

“I was married to a very controlling man. Vincent dictated everything,” I began. The past swelled up, rattling the cage in my mind where I kept it locked tightly away. “What I ate, what I wore. Where I went, and even what I said. I had no say in the matter, and the few times during the beginning of the marriage that I stood up for myself, I found out just how cruel he could be.”

Jaxon’s grey gaze dipped from mine to look at the place on my chest where the large, ugly scar lay hidden.

I brushed it absently. “Most of the time, it was his fists. He didn’t want to permanently damage me.”

“I hate that he’s dead,” Jaxon breathed as his fists curled over each other.

I waved my hand. “I made my peace with that. It’s in the past. Done. Finished.” I gave him a hard look and threw down my final card. “I cannot be in a relationship where someone makes decisions for me—especially without consulting me.”

Jaxon closed his eyes briefly. “You’ll never trust me again.”

A bitter laugh choked me. “I didn’t say that. But, Jaxon, I’m trying to understand. To give you the benefit of the doubt. Your intentions were in the right place. But you’re going to have to explain yourself.”

His jaw worked back and forth. “What do you want to know?”

Now it was my turn to tread carefully. My imagination was filled with wild possibilities, each one more terrible than the last. “What can you tell me?”

“Not everything,” he said dejectedly.

In the silence that followed, rain beat down on the roof. Its relentless attack was the dark backdrop to our tangled web of secrets.

“You’ve got to give me something,” I pressed. “Make me understand.”

“Understand what?”

I pursed my lips. “How your first thought was to jab me and drag me out here. I wasn’t in danger—” At his protest, I quickly added, “I wasn’t inimmediatedanger. That man? Don Alessandro Mancini? He and I have an accord.”

Jaxon raked a hand through his hair, tugging roughly on the strands. It made my scalp hurt to watch. “The thought of losing you drove me half mad—and I’m already fucked up in the head, Isabella. You wanted to know? That’s the truth.”

I stretched forward, almost reaching for him, but stopped myself. “I know you’ve got demons.”

He snorted.

“But that doesn’t excuse your actions,” I continued. “You’re still responsible for what you do.”

“I am. And I’m sorry that I chose to do the wrong thing.”

Thunder rattled the walls.

I crisscrossed my legs and laid my hands in my lap. “How did you get this way? What happened to you?”

Jaxon bowed his head. “You’ll think I’m disgusting.”