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“The fuck there isn’t.”
“Why would I stay?” I throw my hand up and swallow hard. “My father is gone. My sister is dead. What could you possibly want from me?”
The last comes out as a sob, and I dig my nails into the flesh of my palm to give myself something other than utter sadness to feel.
He steps closer. “I’m not done with you.”
“You mean you still want to punish me,” I correct.
His jaw works furiously, and I can tell he’s going over a myriad of things he could say.
In the end, he opts for, “You’re my wife.”
I shake my head, laughing at the irony of it. “Don’t do this.”
“Don’t do what?”
“Don’t pretend we’re actually married. That you really saw me as your wife. From the beginning, you made it clear I was just a place card. Something to keep until your real choice returned.”
“That’s not true, and you know it.”
I bite my lower lip as a tear rolls down my cheek. “All I know is that you hated me.” I’m barely able to speak now, because him pretending to want me is worse than his rejection. “You tortured me mercilessly.”
Suddenly, he’s pulling me roughly to him. He grabs my jaw and forces me to look at him. “It was alwaysyou, Carina. I always wantedyou. And that’s no damned lie.”
“If that was the case, you would have asked me to marry you.” I try to move away, but he holds tight.
“Fuck, I hate to speak ill of the dead, especially so soon after. But it’s the truth, and you will hear it.” His fingers tighten as he brings his head down so we’re nose to nose. “I only wanted Alma because she looked like you,” he grits between his teeth. “Because I wantedyoubeyond reason, and every time I saw you, all I wanted to do was take you and tie you to my fucking bed. I wanted to lose myself in you, but you don’t listen and refuse to obey, and you’re fucking impossible to control!” he rambles. “You hatedme.”
“What?” His confession, the imagery it brings to mind, leaves me breathless.
“I thought Alma would be the best of both worlds. She’d never question my decisions. She wouldn’t interfere. She would be perfectly obedient. And she looked like you.”
“You wanted a docile wife,” I whisper.
“You’re not hearing what I’m saying, Carina. I fucking wantedyou. The same thing that keeps us fighting is the very thing that makes me want you more. You’re brave and smart and so fucking strong. You push every single one of my buttons, and I fucking like it. I want to fuck you raw, and I want it to make us both bleed.”
His lips crash onto mine, kissing me so painfully deep that if there was any doubt in my mind that he meant what he said, it’s instantly eradicated.
When he pulls away, he drops his forehead to mine. “You are my wife, Carina. I don’t care what any marriage certificate says. You’re in my blood.”
I cry out as the joy his words bring me manages to break through the thick wall of sorrow that’s plagued me for days. And I cling to him. My husband. My lifeline. My love.
“So you want to fuck until we both bleed?” I smile.
“I do. Then I want to give you the world.”
My smile fades as the ugly monster born the day Alma died rears its terrifying face. Or maybe it’s been there all along, and I’m just now willing to let it out without shame. “I don’t want you to give me the world, Luca. You are already that to me.”
“Then what can I give you?”
“I want revenge,” I hiss, anger suddenly brewing out of control in my belly. The image of my sister in her coffin has replayed in my mind over and over, and there’s only one thing that will end that cycle now. “I want you to give me Scarlet’s head on a fucking platter. No.” I rethink that statement. “I want you to teach me to get it myself. I’m done fighting what I was meant to do. If fate wants me to be a fucking criminal, I want to be the deadliest one. Can you give me that?”
His expression fills with a mixture of fear, respect, and appreciation. “Yes.”
27
LUCA
