BIANCA
“Why is Stella still here?” I asked as I stared down at the tray of food in front of me.
It was lunchtime now. I hadn't touched a bite of the breakfast Dom had brought me despite how good it had smelled. He’d gotten angry and dumped it into the trash before storming from the room and locking me inside.
“She’s not here now. She left for Bolten with Vincent and Levin. But to answer your question, we have a deal with her. She needs protection too. You know that.” He sank onto the window seat and stared outside.
“Does that protection include fucking her whenever you feel like?”
He snapped his attention back to me and locked his green eyes on mine. “No.”
I figured he’d yell at me for the jab.
“You’re my wife, wasp. I won’t be fucking anyone else but you for the foreseeable future.”
I scoffed. “You won’t even be doing that, sweet husband.”
A muscle popped along his jaw before he turned back to the window.
“Where did you bury Fallon?”
He scoffed and shook his head.
“I want to know.”
“It’s not really any of your business,” he said, not bothering to look at me. “He’s gone. That’s all that matters.”
Anger surged within me, and I heaved the bowl of soup at him. It hit him in the arm, splashing the remnants over his pressed, black pants and onto his dark Henley.
The bowl crashed to the floor and shattered, sending glass shards skittering across the hardwood. He stared down at it for a moment, his Adam’s apple bobbing before he rose to his feet and approached me slowly.
My heart jumped into my throat, but I refused to back down.
When he reached the bed, I glared up at him, noting the anger clouding his handsome features.
“Why can’t you behave?”
“Why can’t you let me go?”
“Because you’re mine.” He visibly swallowed, his body corded with tension.
“This wasn’t part of our arrangement. You know that. You forced me to marry you. You killed Fallon. You tried to kill me. Excuse me for saying this, but fuck you, Dominic.”
He slammed me onto my back, his large body looming over me as he pinned my arms.
“Behave,” he hissed.
“Fuck. You.”
“You will, sweetheart.” He breathed out. “If I wanted it, I could take it. Don’t think you’re holding back on me. You’re not. You’re only prolonging the inevitable.”
“I swear I’ll take your ass down if you lay one finger on me.”
He chuckled softly, his breath feathering over my face. “Don’t threaten me, wasp. We both know you’re not cut out for war.”
“Tell me where Fallon is buried.”
His green eyes swept over my face. “What good would it do? He was going to betray you.”
I hated hearing the words, but it didn’t change a damn thing. “I need to know.”
He shook his head. “You never will.”
“Tell me where he is,” I said louder this time.
He shook his head again.
“Tell me. Tell me. TELL ME!” I screamed it. “Tell me where he is. I want him. Tell me. Tell me. I need to know. Fucking tell me!”
Hysteria washed over me as I screamed, tears pouring down my cheeks. I had to know. It was like facing my fears. Having confirmation that he was gone would be brutal, but I needed it like my next breath. “Tell me! Tell me! Tell me!” I repeated the words over and over through my sobs as I dragged in gasping breaths.
Dom’s brows crinkled as he shook me. “Stop. Stop it, Bianca. Stop!”
“Tell me. Please, Dominic. Tell me where he’s buried. Tell me where you put him. Please. Please, tell me,” my words came out choked and garbled as the pain of losing Fallon flared bright hot in my chest.
It overtook the rage. In my mind, I saw Levin knock him to the ground again. I relived the sound of the gunshots firing into the night, my screams on repeat in my ears as I called for him.
“Tell me,” I whispered again.
Dom released me and got to his feet, letting out a frustrated snarl as he ran his fingers through his black hair.
“Fuck!” He punched the wall, putting a hole through the plaster before backing away and opening the door. He didn’t look back at me. He simply slammed the door closed behind him and locked it, leaving me to weep on the bed, alone.
* * *