“Kieran Ivers would’ve bent you over the bench in that courtroom, fucked your likely virgin ass, and then slit your throat before thinking twice about his audience. I think you should count your goddamn lucky stars I even offered to marry you.”
“I didn’t ask you to do that.”
“You didn’t object, either. Seemed pretty eager when I had my head between your thighs, worshipping your pussy until you came all over my fucking chin.”
We’ve veered so far off-topic, but it’s hard to stay focused when the hatred for me emanates from her body like a warm glow from a campfire on a cold winter night. It draws me in, the warmth irresistible, but I’m afraid someone’s left a few dead leaves too close to the pit, and it’s beginning to spiral out of control.
Clearing my throat, I try to redirect the conversation. “Just tell me who touched you.”
“I don’t want to talk about it.”
“Too damn bad.” My voice is sharp, the jagged edge of a broken glass shard, and she flinches. Swallowing, I try to force some of the tension from my body, aware that I’m being an ass.
What is she doing to me?
Montaltos don’t bend to anyone, and yet I feel my gut deflating, trying to allow room for her to breathe.
“Caroline.” I lean over the seat and grip her chin in my hand, forcing her to look at me. Better she learns now that I’m a prick, rather than later. “I don’t tolerate secrets.”
“Well, that’s a shame,husband, because I have many.”
My eyes narrow, searching her flawless face for signs of distress. She’s cold and aloof, using her attitude to throw me off, but I’m not so easily deterred. “Tell me what happened to you. The last time I saw you, your body was unharmed.”
“Wrong,Capo. My body hasn’t been unharmed since I was a kid.”
“What do you mean?”
She sighs softly, shaking her head, and I release her. Turning to look out the window, she presses her forehead against the glass, watching the world flash by. We pass by the streets leading out of downtown, flush with pine trees and flowerbeds, landscaping maintained by the poorest residents in town. To an outsider, King’s Trace is your average, cutesy tourist town, but I know the danger that lurks beneath.
Iamthe danger.
It feels wrong to be the most powerful man in the state and be unable to get your brand-new wife to open up about her demons.
A million miles stretch between Caroline and me, shifting something between us I wasn’t even aware existed. An invisible force, blocking her from me.
Settling back in my seat, I close my eyes and try to focus on strategizing for work. Certainly, when Kieran hears that we went through with our nuptials, he’ll want a meeting, and I’m sure as fuck not giving him that. Not when I’m sure he’s involved in our missing product.
“Why’d you ask me to marry you?”
Opening my eyes, I look over at my wife; Caroline still stares out the window, but her fingers curl into the top of her thighs, knuckles blooming white. “Does it really matter after the fact?”
“I guess not.”
“Look. I just wanted to help. It seemed like you could use it.” A smirk tugs at the corner of my mouth, and I try to shift the tone of our afternoon. “It helps that you’re beautiful.”
“What, did you think that by marrying me, I’d pull my skirt up and let you dick me down whenever you need it?”
I choke on a surprised laugh. “Dick you down? Jesus, your mouth. What does that even mean?”
“What’s itsoundlike? Come on, Elia, that big head of yours can’t be completely empty. Stupid men don’t run crime organizations.”
I’m not comfortable with how much she knows about my work, but I suppose that’s the curse of living in a small-ass town and being the daughter of a man deeply invested in the world. “Keep talking like that, and I’m going to throw you over my fucking knees,carina. I told you to watch your mouth.”
“And I told you, I’m not going to just do whatever you say.”
My jaw ticks; I can feel my blood pressure rising, shifting quickly from arousal to indignation. No one fucking talks to me like this, and yet... I don’t mean it when I tell her to stop.
What is wrong with me?