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I reach Casso’s office. I have no clue if he’s in there, but if he’s at home, it’s a good bet. I hesitate just for a moment, and although I’ve never been explicitly told I shouldn’t go in there, I can see Casso’s face as I barge in, his handsome features twisting into anger as he points a finger indicating for me to get the fuck out or whatever. But screw him and screw his job and his privacy, he stripped that from me and I’ll be damned if I let him hold it over my head like he deserves more than I do.

I yank the door open and storm inside. I’m surprised to find him behind his desk on the phone looking tired, but instead of getting pissed off, a little smile slips onto his face like he expected this. He holds up a finger meaning give me a second and I march over to the desk, plant my hands firmly on the top, ignore the tiny frightened voice in the back of my head wondering if maybe this is a terrible idea after all and maybe I should stop, and lean forward glaring at him like I’m about to bash his skull to pieces with a paperweight. “Hang it up,” I hiss at him.

“Nico, I’ll have to call you back, something’s come up. Yes, it’s Olivia. Yes, she found my surprise. It’s not funny. Goodbye.” He hangs up the phone and leans back in his chair grinning smugly.

“Nico knows?” I practically scream at him. This asshole is falling back into his bullying ways and it’s driving me insane.

“He was around when I made the decision.”

“The decision to do what exactly, other than invade my privacy and make me feel like an absolute worthless piece of garbage?”

He laughs gently and shakes his head. “First of all, you have no privacy and you never did, you’re the Don’s wife. Second of all, I didn’t intend on making you feel bad.”

“Then tell me what the hell you intended, because from my perspective, I just walked into my room to find all my stuff’s missing and now I’m very much reminded that this isn’t my home, you aren’t my family, and I don’t belong here!”

He stares me as I breathe hard, tears in my eyes. I struggle to keep them from falling because screw him and screw letting him see me cry again, it’s like all I do is cry when I’m around him, but I’m upset and I can’t help it. He stands slowly, running a hand through his hair, and lets out a long sigh. “I need to show you something.”

“No, Casso, no, I’m not playing your game.” I walk backwards as he comes toward me. “You can’t keep doing this to me. You can’t jerk me around and yank me whichever way you want without explaining what’s going on. You want to show me something? How about you tell me what the heck’s happening first. Where is all my stuff? Where am I supposed to sleep, since apparently, I don’t have a room anymore? Are you kicking me out and sending me home? What’s happening?”

“It’s easier if you come with me.” He opens the door and tilts his head. The smile’s still there, and it’s still smug, but it’s not as broad like he realizes he screwed up.

I’m trembling with anger. I want to kill this man more than I’ve ever wanted something in my life. He’s such a bastard, and even now he can’t see that he’s making it so much worse. If he’d just talk to me, use his words, treat me like an equal and a person, then maybe this wouldn’t be so bad.

Instead, it’s like I’m nothing to him, not worth his time.

He leaves the office. I throw my hands up and stare up at the sky and wonder if I’m about to be smitten by some angry, vengeful god for a sin I didn’t even know I committed. But instead of lightning bolts from heaven, I just follow my husband up the main stairs to the central wing of the building and to the door of the master suite. This is the family’s section of the house, and all the siblings have rooms around this area. Elise lives somewhere near here and I’m not actually sure where—from what I can tell, she lives next to the pool.

I hesitate. That’s his room and I’ve never been in it, and frankly, I still don’t want to go in there. It feels too intimate, too real. As far as I understand, nobody goes in there, only the housekeepers, and then only a select few he personally vetted. He steps past the threshold and beckons me to follow.

I pause, but curiosity wins out. I wipe my tears, tilt my chin up, and stride after. This is his room, his inner sanctum, his private place, and I can’t help but want to take a look. Casso repels me but he also fascinates me. The inner workings of a man like him, what could possibly motivate a creature simultaneously so callous and so gentle, I’m utterly enthralled by the idea of gleaning insight into him even just from the way he keeps his private room.

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