Page 12 of House of Lies

I shake my head. Caelia takes the seat closest to the exit. I wonder if it’s a deliberate choice or merely a coincidence.

“What did you love to do before you married me?”

Him.

Before she married that sick, pathetic excuse for a human being. Tilting her head, she takes a deep breath. It looks like she struggles to find an answer to my question.

“I ... um ... I loved creating illustrations for children’s books,” she murmurs, her gaze fixed on a spot on the floor. “I even tried writing some.” I want to make her look at me and witness that half-smile tugging at her lips—a sight I have yet to see.

“Is that something you’d like to pick up again?”

I turn on the oven, only partially focused on the task. If I burn the food, my aunt will track me down.

“What?” she says, snapping out of her thoughts.

“I’m just wondering if there’s anything you’d like to do. You spend a lot of time locked in that room alone. And it’s entirely my fault,” I add in a heartbeat, “and I’m sorry.”

Is this how my life is going to be from now on? I'm constantly apologizing to this woman for things I didn’t do. Is this helping? Is it making anything better? It’s driving me insane.

“I guess,” she whispers. “I honestly don’t know. It’s not something I dared to think about.”

Fucking Mattia.

“Just tell me if there’s anything you need or anything I can do for you.”

Tell me if there’s any piece of you that’s still whole, Caelia.

My family decided not to share enough information about their marriage before I inserted myself into her life. They left me vulnerable, and it’s not something I will ever be able to forgive. The first night I saw her, I played it by ear. And I wasn’t lying when I told her that all I wanted was to spread her legs on a table in front of all those sycophants and devour her as if she were my last meal. I have dreamed about it countless times. She possesses the kind of beauty and vulnerability that can make a man fall to his knees and worship her. Any sane man, not my fucking brother.

She remains silent as I finish cooking, her eyes piercing through me, searching for meaning in all this.

“Thank you,” she murmurs when I place the plate before her. I wait for the toast to finish before taking my seat. I try to keep my distance, sitting at the other side of the table.

“This is so strange.” She laughs, toying with her food.

“It is.” I agree. “I think it will take a lot of work to make this marriage work.”

“I keep wondering when it will turn into a nightmare.”

“No more nightmares. I promise.”

At least, not while she’s awake. I can’t do anything about the ones that haunt her sleep. Not yet. She lifts her gaze, fighting to conceal any emotion. I’ll allow her to yell at me and hit me. I’ll let her remind me, for as long as we’re together, how much she fucking despises me. None of it will be about me. I’m simply wearing the face of the demon that tried to destroy her.

“Is your father pressing you for an heir?” I raise an eyebrow. “Is that why you’re doing this? Do you believe I would be more willing to have your child if you didn’t treat me like garbage?”

“No.”

He is pressing Mattia for an heir, or at least he was. But I’m not ready to have children. I don’t even know if I want them in the future. I’m not stable enough to shoulder that kind of responsibility. Revenge has been my sole commitment throughout my life. It’s within my grasp—I can taste it. And Caelia’s situation should sweeten it, not because she deserves any of the pain she’s endured, but because they deserve what’s coming to them. But it’s a bitter truth.

“Then why?”

I can’t act like him. I can’t pretend to dominate her, to force myself on her, or to be the one who stokes her hatred. Fuck, this is hard. Mattia could not provide a valid explanation. There is no twisted excuse for his actions.

“You’re my wife. I should have protected you from the start. And I failed.”

We lock eyes, waiting for the other to break the silence.

“Yes, you should’ve. And yes, you did,” she concludes, standing up. “Thank you for breakfast.”

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