Page 16 of In Their Hands

I placed her hand on my forearm and led her away from the dancers, toward the head table where my father sat with Giuseppe. Dad was beaming at me, clearly pleased with my choice of bride. I’d married his best friend’s daughter; why wouldn’t he be happy?

He had no idea about his consigliere’s treachery. It’d taken all of his strength to come downstairs for this reception. I wouldn’t deliver an emotional blow that might stop his failing heart.

We came to a stop across the table from my father and Giuseppe, and their attention immediately fixed on us. Giuseppe’s eyes blazed at the sight of his daughter at my side, but the older man made no other move to express his impotent rage. I’d bested him, and he would have to accept his new reality. One day soon, he would serve me, and Dante would be eliminated.

“Elenora, you look lovely.” Dad’s voice was weaker than ever, his breaths too shallow. He did his best to sit up straighter and study my pretty bride. “I’m so happy you’ve chosen to marry my son.”

I felt her fingers flex on my arm at my father’s choice of words. No, she hadn’t chosen this. But it hadn’t been my preference either.

Other than that small twitch of her hand, Nora’s appearance remained composed, the perfect image of a serene young woman who was happy with her fate. Unease stirred in my gut. No, I didn’t like this strange side of my new wife. She barely seemed to have a soul, much less a will of her own.

Had I done this to her?

“I’m disappointed that you eloped, Luca.” My father called my attention away from my concerns over Nora’s behavior. “Even if I am pleased with your choice of bride.”

His disappointment needled at me, but I kept my head held high. My father’s pride and acceptance meant everything to me, even if there was no love between us. He had strict expectations of me, and I’d worked for my entire life to meet every one of them. I’d been determined to earn my birthright, no matter the cost.

“I didn’t want to bother you with a big wedding,” I lied smoothly before shooting a sharp look at Nora’s father. “Giuseppe offered his daughter in marriage yesterday, and I didn’t want to wait. This way, you can see me married.”

Dad would witness the promise of the next generation, even if he wouldn’t survive long enough to one day meet my son. That would bring him some comfort on his deathbed. For all my father’s sins, I respected him, and he deserved a dignified end.

“I’d like a private word with you, Luca,” Giuseppe said. He glanced at my father. “I need to talk to him about his responsibilities to my daughter. The wedding happened so quickly that we didn’t have time for a proper discussion.”

Dad wheezed a laugh, not noticing the tension between me and his best friend. “He surprised you with the elopement too,” he surmised, waving his hand to dismiss us. “Don’t give him too hard a time, Giuseppe. This is a happy occasion, seeing our families truly united.”

I glanced down at Nora, who had remained dutifully silent while the men talked. It was as though she wasn’t even a person, a beautiful statue. She’d railed at me for treating her like a possession rather than a woman with her own thoughts and feelings, and now she was acting like no more than a pretty accessory at my side.

Was this her way of psychologically punishing me for how I’d treated her? By making me feel like the bad guy here? Surely, I hadn’t actually broken her.

Monster.Her accusation snaked through my mind.

I shook off the dark thoughts. I could deal with my wife’s strange demeanor later. If she was trying to be passive aggressive, she would regret it. I valued honesty, and I wouldn’t tolerate this kind of deceitful behavior. She wasn’t acting like her true self, and I didn’t like it.

I would return to her after I finished talking to Giuseppe. For now, I could leave her in my father’s care. I glanced along the high table and noted some of her cousins seated farther down. She would have some familiar company in my absence.

Far from satisfied with the arrangement, I removed her hand from my arm and brushed a kiss over her knuckles, playing the part of besotted groom.

“I’ll be back soon.” It was a promise and a warning. Nora would behave herself in my absence, or she would have a very sore bottom in a few hours.

She blinked up at me vacantly and smiled.

My stomach turned, but I forced myself to release her. I wanted to shake her instead. I wanted her to tilt her imperious chin and tell me exactly what she thought of me, even if the words might sting a little. Anything was better than this vapid doll act.

If I’d broken her…

I couldn’t think about it. Not now. If forcing the birth control shot on her had hurt her so deeply, I would hold her and make up for it later, when we had some privacy. And if she was playing some kind of psychological game with me, she’d learn that I wouldn’t tolerate being manipulated. My wife would not hate me, and she would certainly not break because of me.

Giuseppe stood, his body slightly stiff from his arthritis. But he was still an imposing man, and meaner than ever in his advancing age. I left Nora, accompanying him as we strolled out of the ballroom and down the hall toward my father’s study.

When the door shut behind us, Giuseppe rounded on me. “You little shit.”

I strolled to the drinks cabinet and snagged the decanter, pouring a glass of whiskey for myself and then one for him. I held it out to him with my brows lifted, refusing to reply when he spewed insults.

His thin lips pulled back in a sneer, and he crossed his arms over his chest, denying my offering of civility. I shrugged and placed the glass back on the cabinet before sipping at my own drink, as though this was a casual meeting between old friends.

I settled down in a burgundy leather armchair and swirled the amber liquid in my glass. “I’m willing to forgive your betrayal,” I drawled, careful to keep the rage from my tone. Anger would make me appear weak, and if I succumbed to my hatred, I might attack the bastard. My loathing was far older than just a day; his sins against me ran deep, and I’d hated him for years.

“Your daughter is mine,” I continued, calm and reasonable. I always had careful control of my emotions, and that long practice served me well now. It was what would make me a good boss, a strong leader. I wouldn’t become erratic and unpredictable like Dante. Respect could be inspired by stability, not sadism.


Tags: Julia Sykes Erotic