Page 145 of Unraveled

No hello.

Nothing.

“It’s Saturday, Elena. I always come here on Saturday nights.”

“Not usually this late.”

“Do you want a daily update for when I plan to come and go from different places, and when I might show up here?” Gian asked.

Because if that would keep her from meeting him at the door, he would happily try to provide her with those details.

“You’re being a smartass,” Elena said, “and I could do without the attitude.”

“It’s been a long day.”

“Well, you certainly had a long night, didn’t you?”

Gian resisted the urge to roll his eyes. “If you’re talking about the dinner, and then the birthday party at the club last night, yes, it made for a long evening.”

Elena crossed her arms, her jaw stiff as she stared at him hard. He always thought blue eyes would have fit his wife far better than her brown eyes did—the iciness in her gaze couldn’t quite be matched by any other woman he had come in contact with. Sometimes, her brown gaze gave off a sense of warmth simply because of their color, but it was a lie.

She was colder than ice.

“And why wasn’t I invited?” Elena asked. “I am your wife, Gian.”

“Because it wasn’t a family thing,” Gian replied dryly.

“Still—”

“I wasn’t asked or invited to bring you, so I didn’t. Don’t act like that bothers you, because we both know it doesn’t. The only thing that might bother you is not being able to buy something pretty to wear out for an evening. If that’s what you want, decide where you want to go next weekend, and I will take you. Not for my birthday, though.”

“Fine.”

Gian sighed internally, taking that as a battle won.

“Also, my birthday is coming up,” Elena added quickly.

“And what would you like for it?”

She smiled sweetly, as though she was pleased with his question. Another false invitation into her web.

It never failed to surprise Gian how easily men could be caught up and then subsequently killed in the maze of Elena’s games and manipulations. He had been one of those men, once. Three years ago, it had been him who saw her distant eyes and perfectly styled appearance and thought, something is wrong with her, she never smiles.

She seemed sad, alone, and too quiet. She had been young at just twenty-three, with no siblings and only her father raising her. Her mother had died long ago.

Her beauty, sweet nature, and soft voice had drew him in easily enough. Her world was a malevolent place, and certainly not meant for her.

He had been stupid.

A foolish man caught up in a hero complex.

It was a mistake Gian would never make again.

Not with Elena.

Gian wrongly perceived what he thought to be Elena’s innocence and naivety was a direct result of her upbringing, under the hands of her violent, awful father. He had never once considered that every single thing that Elena offered to a man, whether it be emotionally, verbally, or physically, was a game. Her words were meant to placate and soften. Her touch was meant to disarm and trap.

For her, men were a means to an end.