Page 36 of Brutal Vows

“Shit, princess, I’m clueless. Just went on Reddit for advice then made the call based on availability…” I trail off.

She sniffs and shakes her head, but still, the tears come, and when she turns to me and rests her forehead on my chest, I wrap her in my arms, even though she’s folded hers over her stomach, protective of her body.

Still, I blow out a soft sigh in relief as she leans into me while I rub her back, letting the emotions flow out of her. It’s a win. A massive one. Already, she’s coming to me of her own accord.

Eventually, she slows down, and after a few hiccups, looks up at me. “It’s the perfect piano. The best in the world. Is it brand new? Those things cost like almost half a million dollars.”

I shrug. Who the fuck cares about the money? “You’re a pro, Milana—” And as my wife, deserve the best.

“I don’t know how you did it, because it wasn’t here when our brothers arranged our lives earlier this week.”

“No, it wasn’t,” I say with a lopsided smile. “A logistical nightmare, but Ben handled it.”

With a backhanded swipe at her nose, she steps out of my arms and shakes her head. “This would be much easier for me if you were an asshole, you know.”

There’ll be enough time for that. She’s here now, trapped. She’ll lash out eventually, and I’ll have to manage her and the temper that’s going to come with it.

I’m not going there. We have months—years—to sand each other down, smoothing all those rough edges. I don’t know what happened in my head, but ever since I clocked who was walking down the aisle to me and had time to digest the shock, until death do us part has gone from being one-dimensional words to something I want, a full marriage in technicolor with this woman who has skidded into my life from the side, as if I manifested her.

Jesus. I’m fucking delusional. It’s just her, here, in my arms mere seconds ago that’s messing with me. What I’m not delusional about is the fact that, with what happened with Ivan and Gabi last night, things have taken a turn. There will be no escape from this marriage soon.

“You hardly ate anything this morning, and I don’t think you slept last night,” I say, knowing everything seems so much worse when you’re hungry and tired, and I need to tighten the screws in my head because they’ve been turning loose overnight for me to want this marriage to be real. “I’ll show you around, but then I need to go see Benedict. You’ll be okay alone?”

Honestly, I don’t feel she should be alone. I have no clue what she’ll get up to if left to her own devices. I can check in on her via the hidden security cameras, but fuck knows, I don’t want to be the creep who spies on his wife. She might be locked up, but she’s entitled to privacy and the sense of safety that comes with it.

Also, the last thing I want is to do something similar to the fucking dickhead who filmed her on the sly. Of all the shit out there, it feels the dirtiest, sharpest stab in the back.

“That’s fine—I’m fine,” she murmurs. “It’s just been a difficult few months…and the thing is, Luca—” She breaks off and shakes her head. “I…I can’t give you anything in return.”

“I didn’t expect you to lug a grand piano around in your hand luggage,” I joke, but it’s only to speed past the transactional nature of arrangements like these. And there is the sex thing I’m quietly working on from the side. She’s a hot-blooded woman, and I’ve seen her reaction to sensual touch. She isn’t immune to me, but it’s going to take time. Patience. Trust.

If only she could trust me, it would be a start. This is going to be a very delicate operation.

“But I bet a Ducati would be just your thing.”

“Well…” I say on a chuckle. “A Ducati won’t fit in a suitcase either, but you’re not wrong. I’ll show you my collection at some point. Come, let’s get you settled. There isn’t much to the place. The kitchen,” I say, waving toward it. “Sitting area and your music room. This way.” I walk off to my bedroom, now hers. “I tapped out with the decorating and left it to Elena, our housekeeper, and Rosalia, who works for Matteo. I hope you like it. You can change whatever you want, just say the word.” I hold the door for her. “Hopefully, it has everything. Just make a list if there’s something you need.”

She nods as she walks into the room, arms crossed again. “I’ll be fine.”

“The fridge is stocked.”

“Thank you.”

We stare at each other for a hot second, my bed the proverbial elephant in the room. She drops her gaze first, but she isn’t the only one who needs to decompress. I need to get away from her.

“I won’t be long. I’m just next door.” Not exactly, but I can’t let her in on the setup here yet.

“Okay, thank you.”

I sense her gaze on me as I walk out and feel for my phone in my pocket. Shit. I am going to watch her. The pull is too strong.

Benedict isn’t in his apartment, so I take the elevator down and go through the security to our basement offices. My brother is sitting by his multitude of monitors and swivels around as he hears me walk in.

“Ha, our champion returns! Happy wife, happy life?”

“Unhappy wife, fucked up life.”

Benedict leans back in his seat with a smirk. “You mean your grand gesture didn’t pay off?”