I glance at my second in command. “Yes, there’s a charity gala tonight at the Ritz. Can you secure me an invitation with a plus one?”
Budimir’s brow furrows, as it’s unlike me to want to go to any kind of gala or event, but now that I’m in my position of power, I need to secure it by getting the city’s politicians on my side. “I’m sure I can.”
“Good, get it done.”
He doesn’t move, looking at me as if he wants to ask a question.
“What’s wrong?”
“Your plus one is going to be Eliza?”
I nod. “Of course. She’s my wife.”
His jaw clenches. “I hear she’s not faring well mentally. Is it wise to take her into a public setting?”
“It’s my wish to have my wife by my side for the event. She’ll behave, I guarantee that, Budimir.”
He nods, looking satisfied by my answer. “Very well. I’ll see to it now.” He turns to leave the room.
“Wait.”
He stops in his tracks and glances back at me.
“Next time, don’t even consider questioning me and my decisions. Do you understand?”
His Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows, as up until now I’ve not treated him this way. Budimir helped me put my plan in motion and double cross the bratva he had sworn allegiance to, but now everything has changed.
“I understand perfectly, sir.” He walks away and shuts the door to the study behind him, leaving me with my chaotic thoughts.
I tap my fingers on the desk and glance at the framed photo still sitting on top of it. A photo of Hernandez and his four children taken perhaps five years ago. My eyes are drawn instantly to Eliza. She was as beautiful at nineteen and far more innocent looking.
I grab the frame and smash the glass against the desk, pulling the photo out of it. The glass shards stick into my hand, but I hardly notice. Grabbing a pair of scissors, I cut the rest of her family out of the photo until I’m left with the smiling, beautiful face of my wife staring back at me.
And then, I throw the glass and the rest of the photo in the bin and prop the cutout part against the frame. “That’s better,” I murmur. As I stare at the photo, I realize I’ll need to warn my wife about this evening and how I expect her to behave.
She’ll not make me look a fool in front of the most powerful people in this city. So I stand and make my way out of my study and toward her room. A sense of unease coiling through my gut at what I’m going to find. I visited her room briefly for two days after I took her innocence, but couldn’t face it after that.
I unlock the door to the bedroom and then open it to find Eliza is sitting up with the restraints off, reading a book. The housekeepers were told to remove them a couple of days ago, but to keep the door locked.
She looks up as I enter and her face pales. “Oh God,” she mutters, looking terrified by my arrival.
Good.
She should be terrified of me.
“I’m here to tell you we’ll attend a charity gala together tonight.”
Her eyes narrow as she stares at me. I notice the way tension coils through her body, as if she’s getting ready to fight me. “You’re releasing me from this prison?”
I tilt my head. “Temporarily and on my arm, of course. I want to clarify that I expect you to be on your best behavior.”
Her nostrils flare. “You realize I’m not a child, right?”
I clench my fists by my side. “You sound like one when you speak to me like that.” I sigh heavily and move closer to her, noticing the way she backs up against the headboard. “I’ll give you some ground rules. You’ll not speak unless spoken to directly. Any answer you give will be short and sweet. If you dare say a word against me as your husband, you’ll wish you were never born.”
“It’s too late for that,” she mutters.
“Too late for what, Eliza?”