Total pages in book: 91
Estimated words: 89772 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 449(@200wpm)___ 359(@250wpm)___ 299(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 89772 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 449(@200wpm)___ 359(@250wpm)___ 299(@300wpm)
I called him out, “How do you know all that?”
“Don’t ask stupid questions you already know the answers to, Princesa.”
The nerve of this man!
I jumped off the couch. “I knew it! You’re watching me!”
Chucking the liquor bottle straight across the room, he lunged forward with his face inches from mine. His strong calloused hand gripped my throat with authority as he loomed over my small frame. The glass shattered against the far wall, producing a crashing sound that boomed deep within my core. As if I was the one who collided with it instead.
The dynamic between us had always been fire and ice, and half the time I didn’t know which one of us stood on what side.
“How many times do I have to remind you, not to raise your fucking voice to me? Even the most patient of men would have shoved their cock in your mouth to shut you the fuck up!”
His reaction didn’t faze me in the least. I’d seen my father flip tables when his meal wasn’t prepared properly.
“Is that a threat? I’m not scared of you,” I stressed, standing taller.
“That much is crystal fucking clear.”
I could feel his warm breath on my lips as his chest heaved in anger. His grip tightened slightly then eased. Through his temper and sudden movement, I couldn’t help but notice he was bleeding through his makeshift bandage on his right leg. My gaze hastily shifted to the rip on the side of his slacks.
“What happened?”
Cocking his head side to side, he let go of my neck. “Bad goddamn day.”
I winced, understanding the ramifications of those three little words. Unable to control my response, my body moved on its own accord, dropping to my knees in front of him.
“The fuck?” he rasped, taken back by my bold move.
“Oh my God.” I reached for his wound. “Were you shot?”
Not allowing any more of his feelings to be seen or heard, he crudely turned away from me and walked toward the door.
“It’s none of your fucking business.”
“None of my business?” I snapped, standing up while watching him limp out of the room.
I couldn’t do this for another second.
The push and pull.
The all-out war.
One too many pent-up frustrations from the last three months.
His distance.
His resentment.
His anarchy of a life bound to mine.
Without thinking, driven on pure emotion and adrenaline, I shouted loud and fucking clear, “I’m your wife!”
As soon as the words flew out of my mouth, he stopped dead in his tracks. My eyes widened, recognizing the significance of what I just announced. It was the first time I acknowledged what I was to him.
There was no holding back, I spit rapid-fire, “You think I don’t know you resent me for your sister getting taken? Do you think I’m stupid enough to think you wanted to marry me for anything other than revenge? I know the truth! You wanted to punish me! You think it’s my fault that you left her! If it wasn’t for me, she’d still be here and not fucking missing!”
No response.
Nothing.
To hell with this and his indifference.
I grabbed the vase from the coffee table and threw it in his direction. Shards of glass blasted off the wall in front of him.
“I can throw shit too!”
In a whirlwind of passion and fury, I spun around the room destroying everything in my path. My resolve broke into a million pieces, mimicking the glass.
Unleashing the rage.
The guilt.
The feelings I had for him.
I couldn’t keep up with the torment, all of it clamored for space in my mind. It shackled onto me like chains around my feet, dragging me into purgatory with him. I stormed around his office, my bare feet stomping everywhere I went, leaving piles of our bullshit in my wake.
“Sienna, enough!”
“No!”
I despised being told what to do.
By my father.
La Famiglia.
Him.
The sensible part of my brain was taken hostage by the irrational portion. I allowed my sentiments to be felt by my husband, wanting my voice to be fucking heard. Even if it meant I was coming off as a raging lunatic. He needed to recognize I wasn’t the fragile little girl he foolishly assumed I was. I wouldn’t let him walk all over me and not stick up for myself.
If he thought I’d jump with his every command, barking orders like I was some pet he could play with or reprimand whenever he wanted, he was in for a rude awakening. Vigilantly watching my every move, he stood there in his dominant stature with a neutral expression I wanted to slap off his face. The more I ruined his office, the further his indifference became. His composure was cold, flawless, not wavering an inch.
My defiance came in the form of his ability to treat me like nothing I did or spoke truly mattered. Especially in this heated moment, where I couldn’t stop the chaos I was catapulting into. Our lives came crashing down on me, and I added to the mayhem and disorder by permitting my emotions to get the better part of me.