Page 4 of House of Lies

“We’ll see about that, Wildfire.” He smirks.

I shudder at his promise, masking my confusion at the nickname. It’s the first time I have heard it. Is he already drunk? He just came in. He forced himself on me countless times during our marriage. I wish there were a softer way to describe what he’s been doing to me, but there isn’t. Usually, he gets so drunk that he can’t think straight. I often wonder if the sight of me disgusts him, which is a feeling I share. I can’t even look at him without rage bubbling inside me and a desire to kill him simmering on the surface. He never bothered to undress himself, or me, for that matter. He lifts my skirt or lowers my shorts just enough to get what he needs, always in the dark. Initially, he used to do it several times per month, like he had to take all his rage out on me. But over this last year, he almost forgot I exist. Almost. I might as well be just another employee living in his mansion. I hope he found a mistress somewhere—someone crazy enough to want to sleep with him. Although it’s likelier that he lost interest in me and got bored with fucking a lifeless body.

Something is strange about him tonight, though. He’s looking at me with an unknown intensity, the glistening of his eyes making me think he means the words he’s saying. He’s a trained liar. Mattia perfected the art over the years, and I can’t trust him. He’s ruthless, violent, and bloodthirsty.

“Remind me, what are we doing here?” He places his palm on my lower back, taking a step closer to me. I take a step back, trying to put some distance between us. He follows.

“It’s my mother’s birthday.”

I wish I hadn’t noticed that he had changed his cologne. Sickness takes over me every time he is nearby. I hate that citrusy, earthy perfume. The one he’s wearing tonight is comforting, like a shelter during a thunderstorm. He’s the last person on Earth to offer me any solace. I wish I could take it—just tonight. I want to be less stubborn and more like my sister. But I wasn’t born to be docile. And one day, I’m going to break free of the chains that bind me to Mattia, even if that means I’ll have to kill him. I narrow my eyes, doing my best to ignore the closeness between us.

Mattia always avoided touching me in public. He married me because his father forced him to. He’s incapable of loving someone other than himself, but I think there’s a crack in his heart. I’ve noticed it many times, and I’m looking for it again when Maribella, one of his distant cousins, walks into the room. There has always been a subtle change in his posture—a spark coming alive in his icy eyes. It used to amuse me in the beginning. Now, I don’t find it funny any longer. I’ve spent too many hours wondering if he would treat her as he treats me—if he’s capable of protecting a woman with his life. Mattia is a loyal man. To his father, to the family business. He’d die to protect the things he values. But not me. It will never be me.

I watch him from the corner of my eyes, waiting for that moment when everything falls into place for him. But his gaze is focused entirely on me, his touch still on my lower back, too light and gentle. He doesn’t even flinch when she walks past us. Mirabella notices, her gaze locked on him, a look of confusion on her face.

“Are you ready to go home?”

Home. It takes everything in my power not to laugh. He never asks me if I want to do something. He commands it and expects me to follow. I’m not sure what game he’s playing, but I’ll figure it out. I always do.

“Ready when you are.” I shrug. I can’t see my sister anywhere, and apart from her, there isn’t anyone I wish to say goodbye to.

I’m glad I don’t have to pretend any longer. He kept me in a cage for so long that now I dread going out in public. I hate every second when I’m in his presence. I want to cut off the hand he’s touching me with. I let Mattia guide me toward the exit, surprised that he didn’t speak with his father first. Or with anyone. The road to the car is paved with miracles. He recovers our coats, helps me dress, links his arm with mine, and keeps the door open, although his men are here and he doesn’t need to.

“How was your day?”

I’m used to the routine, and he decided to break it tonight. I don’t particularly enjoy it. We usually spend the entire car ride in silence, with me looking through the window and him placing calls and barking orders. The hell waiting for me at home depends on his mood. Sometimes, he leaves me the hell alone; other times, he unleashes his rage upon me, hitting me in places he knows I can hide from others.

“What have you been doing while I was gone?” He tries again when I fail to reply.

“Stop it.” I shake my head.

Not only does he have eyes on me every waking second, but he also doesn’t care what I do with my free time. As long as it’s something he approves of. As long as I don’t embarrass him. As long as I fall in line. The only thing that keeps me going is the fantasy that one day, I’m going to kill him. I don’t care what will happen to me. I’ve already lost everything. I resent my controlling, angry, and abusive husband. I’ve been forced to give up everything, and now I’m trapped and helpless.

CHAPTER 2

Kaz

My wife hates me.

No. Caelia hates her husband, and I am the man who looks like him. Like her soon-to-be-dead husband—a fact I’m not willing to share with her. Possibly. It depends on how Mattia plays his cards.

I’ve told him the truth; what he does with it is up to him. This was not how I was going to play this. I’ve worked out all the scenarios in my head except for one. I didn’t anticipate that my brother’s wife would be a gorgeous creature filled with rage that would leave me breathless the second I saw her.

I was always intrigued by her. It didn’t take long for that to turn into an obsession. I’ve always been drawn to how she carries herself gracefully, even in photographs. She’s the kind of woman who makes heads turn, hearts flutter, and dicks hard, and she’s unaware of it. I felt a connection to her even before I met her. I envied Mattia for being her husband, thinking that he was someone she could always rely on to protect and worship her. That he was a partner to her. A friend. A confidante who was going to be there for her through thick and thin. This part of the plan was simple. Take her. Own her. I’ve tried to convince myself that it’s a bad idea and that she’s way too young to be touched by my hands, but her father didn’t care about this when he married her, so why should I?

She loathes it when I touch her. She flinches. She couldn’t stand to even look at me and stared through the window the entire ride instead of speaking to me. It took me a split second to understand that her marriage to my brother hasn't been a happy one so far.

She jumps out of the car as soon as it stops. I follow, but she’s already several steps ahead of me. I can’t afford to waste time contemplating the mansion or the surroundings. I know the blueprints by heart, but everything is still so fucking new to me. I hurry after her. Some things are just about to change in this house.

“Caelia.”

She stops in the middle of the stairs, throwing me a glance over her shoulder, looking as surprised as me by the sound of her name coming from my lips. Her red hair stops on her lower back, and images with my hand wrapped around it, her head falling back on my shoulder while I fuck her from behind, are invading my mind, making me lose focus.

“What do you want?”

“Am I going to see you later tonight? Do you want to have dinner or?—”

She analyzes me from head to toe, shuddering.

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