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“He doesn’t deserve to be killed. You have me as your wife. There is no out for me, and I know what my fate would be if I were ever to cheat. I was raised by a made man. I know the rules. No other men.” He buttons up his shirt, tucks it in, and puts his holster back on. Sliding on his perfectly fitted tux jacket, he rights the lapels and buttons it. I jolt a bit when he reaches around me and grabs my hair in its bun, pulling tightly. It stings, and I cry out in pain.
“Nico, that hurts. What the hell?” I push him hard, but he doesn’t move.
“Stop!” he hollers, and I go rigid. He starts to mess with my hair, then lets my curls fall free, and I’m completely taken aback when he takes his thumb and drags it against my red lips. This makes my lipstick smear, I'm sure, and that's when it hits me. He’s making me look like he just fucked me. This animal. My miniscule sense of dignity is stripped from me.
“Good. Now remember, just like you said, you're my wife now.” Taking out his phone, I assume he calls Giulio, and I stay stunned into silence over the scene that just played out.
The knife.
My initial.
The blood.
The mussing me up.
He’s thought of everything.
“The sheets are ready. Bring in the men.” He helps me stand, the shock still penetrating me.
What is happening?
Just what den did I get locked in?
I married the villain, or the real-life beast of every fairy tale.
“You need to cling to me, look pleased. They need to believe we fucked.”
His crass words sting me. I jolt when the door opens, and I cling to him like he ordered, placing my hand on his hard abs. He places his hand on the back of my neck, kneading the knots that have started forming from stress and exhaustion. This helps me lean into him more, at least. Damn the sensations, and damn them for feeling nice. He brings his lips to my forehead, and I watch my father step in, as well as some of his men and Giulio. They look at the sheet, then to us.
My face grows red, as if I really did have sex. How humiliating this tradition is. It’s dehumanizing and vile.
Nico kisses my temple, moving his hands all over my neck for the sole purpose of adding to the act. But I won’t lie—it feels so. Damn. Good.
“Well done. We will meet you down there for the final dance and send-off.” My father nods curtly before he leaves, with all the men in tow.
Giulio and Nico share a knowing look, and then he’s gone. The second they are out of sight, Nico is off me.
“You do what you need to do to come out there and look like a happy, pleased wife, so we can have our dance and leave. I have business tomorrow, and Seattle is a long flight away. Try not to be too damn long.” He slides out the door so effortlessly you would think he vanished into thin air.
Turning, I take a look at my reflection in the mirror.
“You got this. Infiltrate his life. Get the information. And bring him down. Then you will be free,” I remind myself over and over, repeating it what feels like a million times.
Finally, I am able to pull myself together and fix my hair and makeup before leaving the room. Giulio meets me down the hall and stops me.
“Your bags are all packed. I will take them to the car. Mr. Valiente will have other necessary items bought and placed in your new home when you get to Seattle.”
“Oh, okay. Thank you, Giulio.” There is a kindness to this man, and I truly believe he hides it well, but I know he has it in him. There is something in his eyes. A way about him that makes me feel bad that he has to harden himself to keep his cruel boss pleased.
Maybe he’s like me, born into a life we both never wanted?
Who knows. I guess we will see soon enough.
CHAPTER THREE
NICO
We dance together,and she slips in an occasional smile, masking her hatred for me well. An actress. I’ve learned some things about her so far that just might work in my favor, if I can just keep her on the right side of my preferences.
