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“Mr. Ferrari. Bianca.”
“You’re her driver, not her fucking friend,” Vincent spits. “You refer to her as Mrs. Ferrari.”
Andre smirks at me behind Vincent’s back, and it takes everything within me not to return it.
“Understood, sir.” He leaves without another word.
The front door clicks closed, and Vincent cracks his neck back and forth. “Don’t take this as a reward for your tantrum, Bianca.”
I raise an eyebrow, and he steps closer.
“This way, I can keep you safe even when you’re acting like a fucking child.”
I scowl. “Don’t piss me off, and I won’t act out.”
His gaze drops to his feet. A smile crawls onto his face, and he waits until it’s fully fledged before lifting his head. “I was wrong with my threat today. I will find new ways to punish you,dolcezza.”
“And I’ll find new ways to defy you.”
His eyes flash with lust, but his lips twist in frustration. “I’m going out.” He moves toward the front door.
I follow, my fight pushed down with intrigue. “Where?”
“To attend to apet.”
My nostrils flare, and the soft sound of his laughter echoes through our apartment on his exit. I pick up the glass vase I was only minutes ago admiring, throwing it against the elevator doors with a deafening crash. Water, crystal, and dampened rose petals shower the tiles in the broken shards of my anger.
twelve
Now that we’re back at home, I’m bored. Boredom at the cabin didn’t feel so suffocating. Vincent was always with me, even locked away in his office. I could hear the murmur of his voice. He’d eat lunch and dinner with me. He’d watch me while I slept. He’dtouchme. Here, in the cold and sterile walls of his apartment, I have no one.
I have few friends. I can’t socialize with Trixie; she’s not Cosa Nostra, and she’s what my family would respectfully refer to as awhore.I’m the wife of theconsigliere. It’s a hard no without even considering it. Even the thought of seeing Cat regularly doesn’t appeal to me.
I want Vincent.
I apply my night serum to my face, rubbing it into my skin in soft circles. I stare at myself in the mirror, trying to imagine what Vincent sees. I think he finds me attractive. He looks at me with lust in his eyes. He touches my lips before he kisses them, nostrils flaring in longing before he claims my mouth each and every time.
Picking up my rose quartz roller, I massage my face, watching myself as I do. Loneliness is a funny thing. I live in a beautiful, albeit barren apartment with an attractive man. A man who is powerful and respected and who finds joy in my pleasure. Yet something holds him back from giving himself to me completely. I am married, yet I remain a virgin.
I’m an eighteen-year-oldmarriedvirgin.
He’s openly sexual. He kisses me. He uses his hands and mouth to bring me to orgasm. He enjoys it when I use my mouth and my hands to bring him pleasure. But he won’t make love to me. He won’t fuck me. He won’t take a virginity he doesn’t know exists, and I can’t for the life of me figure out why. At first, I thought it was Roberto. He thinks I slept with his brother, and who would want their sibling’s sloppy seconds? But it’s not that. It can’t be. What is sex when you’re intimate in every other way?
I sigh, dropping my facial roller into the top drawer in my bathroom. I close the drawer with my hip, running my hands through my hair as I exit the bathroom.
The shreds of my wedding dress were nowhere to be found when we returned from the cabin. Our bedroom sat as though it was untouched. Untainted by horrible words and maiming insults. I wanted so badly to bring attention to the fact thathegave in by removing what he affectionately referred to as our mockery, but the stern look on his face when I noticed the bare carpet was enough for me to refrain.
Vincent sits in the large armchair in our bedroom, hooded eyes muted by the darkness in the room. I hadn’t even heard him come home.
I walk toward him without speaking, stopping only when my knees touch his.
“Dolcezza,” he hums. “Tell me why you seem so sad.”
“I thought you were working.” I climb onto his lap, the move brazen enough to startle him into silence.
Hands lifting, I’m certain he’s about to reject me.Again. But he surprises me, catching me around the waist to bring me closer.
“Do you have apet?” I ask, holding his face in my hand to keep his gaze.
