Total pages in book: 114
Estimated words: 108405 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 542(@200wpm)___ 434(@250wpm)___ 361(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 108405 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 542(@200wpm)___ 434(@250wpm)___ 361(@300wpm)
“I won’t stand by your side if you inflict pain and slavery on others. If you wanted that, you should’ve chosen a different wife. If I find out the rumors are true, I will stand in your way at every turn. I will not fall in line.”
If, if, if. Her accusations were yielding as doubts crept in. Pride and lust surged through me again. This time, the lust was more carnal. The impulse to spar with her, to see just how close I could bring her to falling in line. And the pride was that of a husband watching his wife grow. “Spoken like a true queen. This is the Lourdes in you,” I said, referring to her regal second name. “But how long would you hold strong to your ideals? You promised to obey me. I don’t need to remind you that defying me could bring danger on your family.”
“Yet you do remind me quite frequently.”
I had to stifle my chuckle.
“What would you do?” she asked. “Would you choose the right thing over family? If it meant saving countless lives?”
“I already did.” My amusement vanished. “And I’d do it again.”
“But that doesn’t make any sense. You turned your father in because he was involved in human trafficking. But he never took it as far as you have.”
“You don’t know that, do you?” I asked, my tone verging on snapping. I wanted to be patient with her, but it got under my skin when she compared me to him so easily without verifying anything that she assumed was fact. At some point, I needed her to realize that she was doubting and maligning me without evidence, while I saw nothing but potential and goodness in her. And even if I was her own personal beast, I was still nudging her toward a better version of herself. “You’ve made a lot of assumptions and accusations, Natalia, but not once have you asked about the specifics, or even generalities, of my business.”
She smacked her water glass on the table. “I’m asking,” she said with a frown, as if I hadn’t just invited her to.
I stuck a toothpick in my mouth, somewhere between wanting to teach her a lesson and trying to be patient with her. One minute, her curiosity allowed her to listen, the next, she was obstinate for no reason. “Then I will show you.”
But not until she ate. I’d already finished my meal, and she’d barely taken three bites.
I shifted to take a velvet box from my back pocket and stuck it squarely on the table in front of her plate.
Her gaze bounced between the box and me. “What is that?”
“Your wedding ring. Teresa made it. Remember Felix, the boy with no front teeth? His mom.”
“But I already have one. It’s—oh. I see.” She glanced at her hand, then slid off the ring I’d put on her finger in the church and placed it in front of me. “It was your mother’s. You must want it back.”
That wasn’t why. My mother’s ring had been a stand-in. It wasn’t good enough for my wife. I’d found it amongst Bianca’s jewels, the ones I’d recovered for Costa over the last several years. It meant nothing to him so I’d pocketed it, meaning to melt it down. It’d come in handy, but now I could get rid of it. I tossed it aside, opened the little box, and slid it closer to her.
Her eyes widened. “Cristiano. This is . . . enormous.”
Indeed it was. I’d explained to Teresa what I’d wanted, but she’d insisted on meeting Natalia before creating it—to capture her personality, apparently. Who needed personality when you had a big, fat rock to back up your confidence? I’d wanted something bold. A jewel fit for a queen. I’d told Teresa to recall the biggest diamond she’d ever worked with—and then find one double the size.
Natalia would wear my ring, a piece of jewelry so heavy, she’d feel the weight of me at all times.
“Is it real?”
I arched an eyebrow, suppressing a laugh. “Natalia, for fuck’s sake. Of course it is.”
She gave me a minx-like smile—she was messing with me—then slipped on the emerald-cut diamond set in a diamond band.
I picked up the box. There was more inside—a two-tone, gold-and-silver ring with a fine, almost invisible pearl inlay strip around the center, engraved inside with our wedding date and one word.
Mine.
It would be only my first taste of branding her tonight.
I passed it to her, and she slid the rings together to form one. She spread her fingers, peering at them. Would she recognize why I’d chosen it? She placed her splayed hand on the table, admiring it in silence.
She only raised her eyes to watch me push on my ring. My band matched hers, but without the pearl and with a different word inside.