Page 129 of Bene

She didn’t smile.

At all.

In fact, Vanna constantly looked as if she was ready to kill her fiancé whenever the man was in breathing distance. Sometimes, she did well to hide it, and other times … she didn’t even try to hide her displeasure.

Now was one of those times.

Bene, from his position hidden in an alley across the street from a restaurant that Vanna and Mario frequented throughout the week, he watched as the two of them stood face to face in front of a running town car parked on the curb. The man driving in the car stood near the rear passenger door, ready to open it for the two when they wanted to leave, but they weren’t paying him any attention.

Probably because they were too busy glaring.

And their voices?

Loud enough for him to hear.

That was not a couple in love.

Not in the least.

God knew he had no business spying on these two, especially because he wasn’t doing it to help his family in their current situation. No, he followed the two because a part of him still wanted to know what was happening here—why was she marrying that man, and had everything between them been a lie?

Bene learned more than he wanted.

More than his heart could handle.

“What did I tell you, huh?” Mario demanded.

Vanna stared back, unbothered. “I’m not going to be pleasant just because you tell me to fix my face, put on a dress, and go out to look pretty on your arm, Mario.”

“You will do whatever I tell you.”

She let out a bitter laugh.

God.

It hurt in Bene’s chest just to hear it, and it wasn’t even directed at him. It sounded like a mixture of desperation, anger, and more.

“You really haven’t figured it out yet, have you?” Vanna asked.

“That you’re going to be my wife whether you like it or—”

“You can’t make me want you, and you won’t force me to be your fucking pet. You didn’t like the way I acted in there tonight, then too fucking bad for you. I’m not a doll for you to play with whenever you feel the goddamn need.”

“Listen, you’ll either get in line, or you won’t like what happens when you don’t.”

“I don’t love you!”

“Watch your fucking tone,” Mario snarled, “before I cut the tongue right out of your mouth. We’ll see how much attitude you give me then, huh?”

Jesus.

He was still mad at Vanna.

Still had things to say to her.

Despite all that, it took every ounce of his will power to stay hidden in his spot when what he really wanted to do was cross the street and beat that man into the pavement for threatening Vanna like that. For some reason, he doubted it was the first time.

One of many, likely.