Page 49 of Torn By Fate

I opened my mouth to answer, but she cut me off. “A name. A face. Anything that isn’t your convenient, manufactured crisis designed to somewhat make me dependent on you again?”

My jaw clenched. “No.”

She held my stare for several seconds and then nodded once. “Then I don’t believe you.” She said it cleanly, without hesitation, and started pushing her cart again as if to dismiss me. “I won’t be falling for your lies again, Salvatore.”

“You’re a Salvatore now too,” I said, following behind her, my patience thinning with every step. I wouldn’t be dismissed so easily. “We are both Salvatores. Whether you like it or not. And that means your potential death is a problem—my problem—even if you don’t believe that the threat exists.”

She came to a halt abruptly, and I nearly walked into her. Serafina spun around to face me, eyes hardening with fury. “You are the threat in my godforsaken life.”

I stepped closer, my arm snaking forward so I could grasp her delicate wrist in my hand. Her pulse fluttered beneath my fingers. Fast. Furious. Alive.

“You hate me for trying to kill you,” she whispered, trying to wrench her hand free, but I held tight. Not enough to hurt her but a reminder that I could. Her free hand came up and pressed against my chest as she tried to create some distance between us.

“You’ve been toying with me all this time. Why do you care if I live or not? Wouldn’t that be good riddance for you?” Her eyes searched mine. “Maybe you will end up with a more docile wife after my death. Someone more to your liking. Someone who wouldn’t try to put a bullet through you.”

Something dark stirred beneath my ribs.

“You belong to me, Serafina. And I need to keep you alive.”

“Why. Do. You. Care?”

“Because you dying while you carry my name is an insult to me and my capabilities.” Her expression faltered for half a second. I leaned closer, lowering my voice. “I don’t want anyone questioning whether I’m weak or whether I couldn’t protect my own wife. I’m a man with a reputation, Serafina.”

Her mouth twisted bitterly. “I thought you didn’t care about your reputation, Reaper.”

“It matters when it comes to you.”

“How cute, husband,” she drawled, voice dripping with sarcasm. “I almost believed you truly cared for my well-being."

“Keeping you alive is business. I’m merely keeping my end of the bargain.”

The moment the words left my mouth, I knew they weren’t even close to the truth. It was complete bullshit. Because ‘business’ didn’t explain why I’d crossed borders for her in the first place. It didn’t explain why the thought of finding her dead made the blood in my veins go cold.

My lungs clenched at the image of her, eyes open, staring into nothing, a pool of blood under her cold body.

Fuck me, this woman was driving me utterly insane.

I had enough of this goddamn back and forth.

Serafina wasn’t as untouchable as she believed herself to be. I was a whole foot taller than her. Twice her size. Much stronger than her in all the ways it mattered.

If I wanted to, I could throw her over my shoulders, carry her out of this supermarket, put her in a car, and have her back home before she could even protest.

I’d keep her locked in our room, where she would be safe. Where she belonged.

In my bed. Waiting for me like a good fucking girl she was going to be.

The thought sent dark, primal pleasure through my veins, my blood heating.

“There we go,” she said, watching me with a bitter smile. “The goading truth. I’ve always been just a pawn to you and our families.”

“Serafina—”

She took a step closer before I could finish and pointed at me. “That was in the past,” she said, lips curling with fury and hatred. She jabbed her finger in my chest and held it there. “I won’t let you use me.” Another jab. “I won’t be a pawn to our families, and I’m not a broodmare. I’m meant to do a lot more with my life, and you won’t stand in my way.”

I looked down at her finger pressed into my chest and then back at her. Her eyes burned into mine. “And what exactly is it you want to do with your life?”

“I have a list.”