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Striding down the hallway, I intend to head upstairs and check out the upper floor, when I hear sounds in the kitchen behind me. Isn’t it too early for the maids to be here? A look at my watch confirms it’s not eight, yet. I turn around and retrace my steps, only to stop short when I get to the kitchen doorway.
There is a woman standing by the open fridge, searching for something inside. Her face is hidden behind the appliance door, but I’m certain I’ve never seen her here before. She’s wearing black leggings and an oversized gray sweater with the sleeves rolled up. Her feet are bare. Long black hair is falling down her back in soft waves.
“Who are you and what are you doing here?” I bark.
She jumps with a yelp, closes the fridge, and turns to face me. My eyes flare in shock.
“Good morning,” Ravenna mumbles.
I can’t stop staring. If I saw her walking down the street, I probably wouldn’t have recognized her. Ravenna is a hundred times more beautiful without makeup. She looks like a fucking angel who descended from heaven, and I find it impossible to take my eyes off her. She is also much younger than I thought.
“Um . . .” She tilts her head to the side and picks up one black strand between her fingers, twirling it. “Are you okay?”
No, I am not okay.
Although I’ve never been attracted to women who wear a lot of makeup, I’ve been mesmerized by Ravenna, even when she wears lavish clothes and has a ton of crap smeared over her face. But seeing her with her hair hanging freely, framing her angelic face, I feel like I’ve been sucker punched, unable to draw in air.
“I need to go to the hospital and then check on my mom after,” she says.
My gaze moves down, stopping at her throat. The bruises on her neck are a deep purple color today, and looking at them rekindles the rage in my stomach. It’s my fault. I should have stayed on that damn balcony and killed that motherfucker the moment he went inside her room, no matter the consequences.
“Alessandro?” Ravenna steps forward and inclines her head.
I carefully reach out and move her hair back so I can have a better look. The black strands feel like silk on my palm.
“I like your hair,” I mumble.
Ravenna’s lips curve upward. “I like your hair, too.” She lifts her hand and hesitates for a few moments, then glides her fingers over the side of my head.
“It’s really short.” She smiles.
I should fucking leave, not discuss damn haircuts, but I can’t make myself move.
“Habit.”
With my hand on her neck, I trace the shape of each bruise with the tip of my finger. Her skin is so soft, and to see it marred in such a way makes me want to go to that hospital, cut off the bastard’s hand, and make him eat the damn thing.
“Was that the first time?” I ask through clenched teeth.
“Yes.” She shrugs. Her hand is on my upper arm now, and I can feel the warmth of her touch even through the fabric of my shirt and suit jacket.
She’s lying. I should have realized way sooner that her husband was hurting her. There were so many signs pointing out that something is wrong between them, but I was too blinded by my hate and focused on vengeance that I chose not to dwell on them.
I still don’t want to. I don’t want to care. It would mean kissing my revenge goodbye and breaking the promise I made to myself and to Natalie. That can’t happen. I might have deviated from my plan so far, but I am going to execute it in full at the end. These stupid feelings that started growing in me, wrapping around my ice-cold heart like fiery claws, need to be extinguished. I hate Ravenna Pisano, and my stupid heart better remember that.
The sound of female chatter and hurried steps reach us from the direction of the hallway. The maids have arrived.
Ravenna quickly pulls her hand from my arm and steps away. “I’ll be ready in twenty if that works for you?”
I nod and leave the kitchen.
Not one word.
The man sitting next to me shot off my husband’s hand because it was used to hurt me, but he hasn’t said a single word to me since we got inside his car. But I did catch him looking at me when he thought I wouldn’t notice—a sideways glance as I was sliding onto a passenger seat instead of the back one. A squinty glimpse while I rummaged through my purse looking for a new pack of tissues. A peek through the reflection in the side window as I was trying to find the switch on the dashboard to turn up the heat. I can’t stand it anymore.
“So . . .”I ask. “Cat got your tongue?”
Nothing. Alessandro keeps staring at the road straight ahead.
