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“Honestly, Elia, if you were gonna take me as your mistress, you could’ve just told me before you went and got married.” She laughs, tossing her hair over her shoulder as if the notion is hilarious.
“Who the hell said anything about you being my mistress?”
Her green eyes widen slightly. “Well, you did just bring me up here to fuck my mouth.”
“A one-time lapse of judgment, I can assure you.” I lean back in my chair and point toward the door. “You can go now.”
She blinks. “Are you kidding?”
“Do I look like someone who fucking jokes a lot?”
Her jaw drops. “Elia, you can’t be serious. I—I’m your girl. Before that fucking prude wife of yours came into the picture—”
The tone of her voice grates on my already electrified nerve-endings. I react with a cruelty rarely seen on this level of the club. Violence is usually reserved for the basement and our fixer.
“I’m going to go ahead and stop you there.” Pushing back from the desk and getting to my feet in one smooth movement, Siena doesn’t have time to digest what’s happening. My palm curls around her throat, my grip harsh and not at all reminiscent of the way I’ve held Caroline. I don’t give myself time to process that before I squeeze Siena’s larynx, cutting off her air supply.
Her fingers come up to scrape against mine, searching for traction. But I’m too large; too strong.
“Need I remind you who signs your paychecks, who ensures your safety to dance at this club, and who runs this fucking town?Me, princess. You will not speak to me like I’m the scum beneath your shoe, nor will you refer to my wife inanyway that isn’t entirely and outrightly flattering. You’ve serviced my cock for years, but rest assured when I say I won’t fucking hesitate to slice your chest open and crush your bitter little heart if you ever fucking call meEliaagain. I’mMr. Montalto, orSir, to you, and nothing fucking else.”
“But—”
My grip tightens, my free hand joining to lift her off the ground. Her claws wrap around mine, desperate in their attempts to get me to relinquish control, but I hold still. Dark red splotches crop up along her cheekbones, coloring her otherwise pale and dull skin.
“The time for talking is over between us. You will not mention this to a single soul. If I think you’ve even breathed a sigh regarding this afternoon, I’ll have your head mounted on my wall by the end of the day. I’m not fucking around, Siena. And I’m not taking a mistress.Capisce?”
She tries to nod, but my hold on her impedes the ability to agree with me.
With a harsh shove, I release her neck; my heart thumps erratically in my chest as she slumps to the floor, a sob wracking her body. Turning on my heel, I cross the room to the large window overlooking downtown and people-watch for a few moments in silence.
The door closes softly at her departure, and the tension coagulating in my shoulders softens, balmed by the loneliness permeating my office. And as I continue watching those below, picking out the addicts from the normal tourists, I lean my forehead against the cool glass, trying to calm the beat of my heart.Why the fuck does it suddenly feel so empty?
I’VE BEEN STARING out my bedroom window for half an hour, ever since Elia got home. He didn’t acknowledge me, despite it being the first time we’ve been under the same roof in a couple of days.
Instead, he stopped just inside the front door, watched me mix cake batter for a few silent moments, and then stomped up the stairs to his bedroom. The door slamming shut told me I probably shouldn’t go after him.
Not that I wanted to, anyway; it’s not my responsibility to cure his bad mood.
I was taking my strawberry cake out of the oven when he came back downstairs with a crossword puzzle book tucked under his armpit, dressed in a black long-sleeved tee and swim trunks.
Still, he ignored me, and so I’d gone upstairs to avoid seeing him again. Passing by the window, I caught a sliver of tanned, chiseled flesh diving into the pool on our patio, and found myself glued in place.
I haven’t moved since. Can’t stop ogling my husband as his body cuts through the water, an unstoppable bullet of energy.
What ghost is he trying to outswim?
The sun sets with me still standing, watching. Drooling. He pulls himself out of the pool after one final lap, falling back on the ledge and throwing an arm over his face.
Christ, he’s attractive.The kind of man that clearly made a deal with Satan, because his good looks are just otherworldly.
My clit throbs just looking at him, imploring me to go down and invite him upstairs. Though I’m sure he’d oblige, considering the other times he’s been more than happy to grind up against me, I can’t make myself do it.
He pulls his crossword puzzle booklet off the black chaise lounge, positioning a pen between his lips and dunking his feet into the water as he scrutinizes the page. Silently, I watch his brow furrow as he marks spots on the booklet, concentration making him a thousand times hotter.
Jesus, he could probably kill someone in front of me right here, right now, and I’d lay back and spread my legs like nothing happened.
Andthatis why I stay in place, why it feels like my feet have grown roots. We’re only a few days into this union, and already, I feel like I could give Elia my soul.
