I can’t erase the vision imprinted in my brain of her eyes locking onto mine as she came apart beneath me, the way she’d moaned my name, pussy gushing over my cock, the way she’d made me feel like someone actually loved me for myself, not my money, my power, my position—
No. We’d fucked. We’d fucked and that was it. Believing otherwise only serves as a testament to Frankie’s skills at manipulation.
So now, as much as I’d like to drag her upstairs and bend her over the railing of my office balcony, fuck her until she’s screaming loud enough for all the guests to hear and I’m too spent to feel the burn of this rage anymore, I won’t do it. There’s nothing inside her heart but deceit.
Funny, she always seemed so against being anything like her father, but I suppose once an Abbott, always an Abbott. She’s no better than that slimy lowlife gambling addict.
Fuel on the flames is knowing that her supposed husband is probably kicking up his feet somewhere in town with that shit-eating grin on his face, waiting for whatever happens next. I’d like to have my brother arrange for the guy to quietly disappear and never return—we certainly have the connections to make it happen. The only people who even know about Frankie and him are my brothers and myself, and Charlie. Hell, it wouldn’t be hard to make the son of a bitch trip into a shallow grave in the middle of nowhere, would it? But what would that solve? It wouldn’t change the fact that Frankie lied to me. That our entire relationship was a sham. Part of some master plan to...to what? I still can’t even begin to guess what she was trying to get away with.
I shake the thought away. It doesn’t matter. Frankie’s husband might be disposable, but even if Frankie comes clean about why she kept her prior marriage from me, my former wife will never be trustworthy again.
She tries to move away from me now as we work our way through the guests and across the courtyard, but I pull her closer and murmur, “You’re expending a lot of energy trying to get away from me,wife. Stay where I put you. I’m not done with you yet.”
Her body stiffens, as if she’s preparing to shake me off, but I only tighten my hold. The moment we get back to the Bellanti estate, I have a decision to make.
Are we truly over, or am I going to fight for her? I’ve already tossed around the idea of breaking the law on her behalf and helping hide the body. Equally, I’m tempted to wash my hands of the whole sordid mess. Give her back to her smug-faced husband and erase her from my life. It’s what she deserves.
Every time people stop us to chat, I’m forced to continue with the polite smile and the bullshit. Pretending nothing is wrong. Meanwhile, my urge to break free reaches a boiling point.
Finally, we escape. Our feet are loud on the gravel walkway leading to the house. Lights from the lampposts casts a soft glow while the evening wind blows warm and gentle. Were this a different scenario, the ambiance would be pleasant. Romantic even. Frankie’s hair tossing in the breeze, the glow of the lights highlighting her natural beauty. But this isn’t a lovers’ stroll. It’s the death march of my marriage.
I drop her arm without a glance in her direction, but fuck, I can still feel her on my skin. She hurries in front of me as if she can stop me, stop whatever I’m about to say or do.
“Dante, listen.” She tries to snag my wrist, but I pull away.
“I don’t want to hear anything you have to say.”
Her jaw drops. “But before, you said that…that we were going to talk in private.”
I scoff. “Well, I changed my fucking mind.”
With that, I move around her and continue toward the house. Each crunch, crunch, crunch of my shoes on the gravel grates in my brain.
She chases after me, but I don’t slow my pace. “Wait. Please. I know I should have told you. And I know you’re confused and hurt and—”
I can’t stop the cruel, hard laugh that comes out. Never in a thousand years will I allow this woman to think that she’s hurt me.
“You can’t hurt me,” I tell her. “You’d have tomeansomething to me to hurt me. You were useful, and now you’re not. Simple as that.”
We reach the porch and she crosses her arms over her chest, shaking her head. I can see tears welling up in her eyes. “I don’t believe you.”
“Believe this, then. You’re not a partner. You never were. You were a means to an end, and even that has run its course. Your services as a pretend wife are no longer needed. Especially given the fact that our union is legally null and void.”
Leaning around her, I push the front door open. Frankie starts to step into the house, but I grab her arm and tug her back, blocking her way with my body.
“Don’t even think about setting foot inside this house,” I tell her. “I want you out of my sight.”
She freezes, her eyes gone wide. “What? Where am I supposed to go?”
I shrug. “Why don’t you ask your husband that. As far as I’m concerned, you don’t live here anymore.”
Then I go inside, shut the door in her face, and turn the lock. A knock of guilt beats against the iron wall around my heart, but I ignore it.
Leaning my head against the door, some of the tension in my neck and shoulders releases at the sound of her heels tapping down the steps, then retreating on the gravel of the walkway. I let out a deep exhale, knowing there’s no turning back now. No room for regrets.
Will she go to him? Will she crawl into some cheap hotel bed with him tonight? I’ve driven her straight into his arms, and I have to remind myself that it’s exactly where she belongs.
I can almost hear the sound of my father’s voice ringing in my ears.
