Page 15 of House of Lies

“Make the popcorn? I’ll change into something more comfortable.”

“Sure.”

I’m unsure what I agree to, but I can afford to take the night off. My uncle has access to the Benedetti family’s future transportation schedule. We will take care of it, one by one, destroying everything and every alliance the Benedetti family has until there is nothing left of them. When we’re done with them, I can return home.

I descend the stairs, lost in my thoughts. Caelia is a beautiful mess. I thought I’d get over whatever this was when I was going to meet her, expecting anything other than this. Now, I face the risk that she may become a liability I cannot afford. And I can’t seem to stay away from her. There are moments when her eyes soften, when her defenses crumble, and I am drawn closer, always wanting more. Her confessions, her smiles—I’ll take them all—her tears, and her rage.

I need to know the real Caelia, not the woman Mattia tried to turn her into.

You’re not him, I remind myself.

It’s easy to forget at times. It’s easy when sometimes I spend the entire day asking myself what Mattia would do, and then I come to this place he shared with his wife, who despises him. I know precisely what he would do. He’d try to break her. He’d take the misfortunes of the day out on her. And when she fights me, I wonder if taking what I want wouldn’t be easier. When I’m tired and my head is pounding, I’m almost slipping.

You’re not him.

Caelia is waiting for me in the center of the bed when I return; her silhouette is bathed in the soft glow of the TV. The bowl of popcorn almost slips from my hand. I had grown accustomed to her attempts to cover herself as much as possible, but she had chosen differently tonight. She wears a top and silky red shorts, exposing her legs, clavicle, delicate arms, and neck too much. She cleaned my wound, offered to share the bed with me, and now she’s going down this road.

I clear my throat. “So, what are we watching?”

“Vikings, Supernatural, or Breaking Bad. Your choice.”

It’s not a rom-com, then. I smirk, watching her closely as I enter the room, waiting for any sign of regret or flinching. Instead, she scoots closer to the edge of the bed, making room for me.

“Tough choices, Wildfire. Tough choices.”

Caelia is a strong woman, but she’s been through too much. Every corner of this house serves as a reminder of her past. Her flinching is an unconscious reaction, one she can’t control. Her body reacts before her mind can catch up. She has only shared fragments of what she has been through, using them to provoke a reaction from the husband she believes me to be. Now, even the simplest acts of kindness or closeness cause her to be on edge. It may take years to rebuild her trust. Years I don’t have.

“I’m fine with whatever you want to watch.”

I place the bowl between us on the bed and settle down. I’m determined to make her feel comfortable and safe. She slips under the covers, turning on Vikings.

It’s going to be a very long night for me.

CHAPTER 9

Caelia

They exchanged their vows in front of a stunning arch adorned with flowers. As I watch Nario and Danielle, doubt creeps into my mind. Did Nario truly mean his vows, or did he promise to destroy Danielle as he leaned in for the kiss? Does she love him, or is she trying to put together a plan to run away? The venue is bathed in a white, cream, and ivory palette, with twinkling lights casting a warm and inviting glow. The reception hall exudes a romantic and intimate atmosphere, courtesy of the flowers and candles, but it makes my stomach churn. I have watched the white chairs arranged in neat rows and an aisle lined with rose petals leading up to the arch, and all I did was remember my wedding day, struggling not to throw up.

It should be a magical moment that the couple will always cherish. Until the nightmare sets in. I’m alone at the table, watching the happy couple perform their first dance as husband and wife. A wave of sadness washes over me. All the wedding plans I had envisioned and all the dreams for my special day have been shattered. Cosima is here, but I’ve been avoiding her. She’ll want to know how things are between me and Mattia, and I find that difficult to explain. An odd routine has set in between us. I lie in bed each night, dreaming of a better future free from him. A future where he’s dead. Yet, each morning, I wake up in his bed and continue my day. I go through the motions—sleeping, eating, showering—forcing countless smiles that strain my cheeks. I no longer recognize the person I share a bed with. I got used to living in a prison where Mattia is the warden who doesn’t care about my feelings or needs. Something has changed in the past few months. He makes a real effort to be different. I am unsure whether this change will last or is merely a phase. I cannot trust him enough to let my guard down and be grateful for his new attitude.

I spot my husband talking to his father at a nearby table. They both seem tense, and I try to catch what they say, but their tones are too low. I can’t make much out of it. The tension between them surprises me. Mattia has always idolized his father and is willing to do anything to please him. I’m thirsty and want to avoid speaking with one of my aunts heading my way, so I stand and make my way to the bar. Just as I am about to place an order, I feel a light touch on my lower back. Startled, I turn around and come face-to-face with my brother-in-law, Ludovic, standing behind me, his face inches from mine.

“I was hoping to catch you alone.” His eyes are filled with a spark of desire and mischief, making me sick.

Ludovic has always been a troublemaker. As Mattia’s younger brother, he has never been denied anything in his life. I attempt to step away from him, my heart pounding. He smirks, raising his eyebrows suggestively. He exudes confidence and arrogance in a way that repels me, carrying his tall, muscular frame as though he is the most important person in the room. Every inch of my skin crawls.

“Take your hands off me.” I grit my teeth.

He’s not listening; he inches closer, cornering me between a chair and his body. Leaning in, he whispers in my ear. “Mattia has promised to let me destroy your cunt, but he hasn’t delivered so far.”

My body tenses up as his breath tickles my skin. My embarrassment flushes my cheeks as he leans back, gazing deeply into my eyes. His hand finds its way into my hair, and he smirks, his lips tantalizingly close to mine. Time seems to freeze, and all I can do is stare back, questioning the truth in his words. I wouldn’t put it past Mattia to make such a promise, but it still tears my heart apart.

“Go fuck yourself, Ludovic! It will never happen, but it’s good to know what you’re dreaming about.”

“You little bitch,” he spits, gripping my waist and forcefully pushing me against the hard surface of the bar.

I can smell the alcohol on his breath, and the last thing I want is to cause a scene.

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