Page 7 of House of Lies

My heart skips a beat. Trusting his words will only screw me up in the end.

“I don’t want you to fix things. I just want you to leave me the hell alone. Please.” My voice breaks, his silhouette becoming a blur.

“I can’t.” He shakes his head. “I’m sorry.” I’m surprised he hasn’t raised his voice yet. “Why are you making this so difficult?”

“I’m the one making this difficult?” I scoff. “We weren’t even married for five seconds before you made yourself clear. When the priest said that you could kiss your bride, you told me how this would work. Remember?”

His face is blank. He has no reason to remember the words he turned into weapons on our wedding day. Why would he?

“No?” I laugh. “Let me remind you, then. You told me that, of all the whores in the world, you had the misfortune of marrying me. That you became my master the moment we said our vows. You’ve warned me you’ll kill me one day.” I remember all the vile things he said, how my heart slowed down, and all the blood drained from my face. How frozen I stood there in the middle of the church while he pressed his lips against mine, pouring all the hatred into my mouth. “And now you’re trying to act like a decent human being? It’s too late for that, Mattia. You can’t take back all the things you’ve done.”

He doesn’t reply for a moment. He stares at me with those gray eyes that always intimidate me.

“I know I’ve done some terrible things, Caelia,” he finally says, his voice low. “But I’m not giving up on us yet. I still want to try.”

As I watch him now, I’m left all confused. He looks like the man who said all those things to me, but he’s not the same. Instead of being immune to my words, he’s tense. I find consolation in the thought that maybe he’s dying and he had a change of heart. I’m not going to make this easy for him.

I shake my head, tears streaming down my face. “It’s too late, Mattia. I can’t keep doing this. I can’t keep living in fear of you. I want a divorce.”

He stands up, towering over me. I shrink back, but I refuse to show him any more fear.

“You’re not getting a divorce, Caelia,” he says. “You’re mine, and you’ll always be mine. Remember that.”

Mattia shifts, and I flinch, my fight-or-flight instinct kicking in. His eyes never wander from mine, and he frowns. His jaw tenses and his hands are clenched into fists, but he seems annoyed by my reaction, not at me for simply existing.

“I’ll be downstairs if you change your mind about dinner.” He stands up and heads toward the door.

“I won’t.”

I struggle to breathe long after he’s gone.

I don’t know how to handle this side of him.

I wish I didn’t have to deal with him at all.

CHAPTER 4

Kaz

This is proving to be far more complicated than I thought, and not because I have abandoned my life behind, killed Kaz to become Mattia, and don’t know who my friends and foes are. Dealing with Caelia is proving to be the most challenging of them all. It appears that Mattia has been solely focused on breaking her. She carries a lot of baggage, that’s for sure. Trauma that needs to be addressed and dealt with, but he failed. He might have bent her a little his way and broken some little pieces along the way, but he didn’t break her completely.

I purposely omitted any mention of her in my report to my uncle. I’ve told him everything is going according to plan, and she suspects nothing. I didn’t even bother mentioning that I know he’d been hiding the abuse under the rug. Vanya must have told him I know by now. I’ll have to deal with that later.

Technically, it wasn’t a lie. Caelia believes I am Mattia. The behavior change might confuse her, sure. But maybe she thinks he’s gone crazy. I gave her an extra week. She barely left the room. No one came to visit her. She merely exists within that confined space, driving me insane. She learned to stay out of Mattia’s way and not provoke him unless provoked, which is a brilliant plan in the long run. I should leave things as they are and stay away from her. She’s not even a part of my plan. But I can’t. Her grief haunts me.

I knock twice on her door, waiting.

“Go away!”

Not tonight. I’ve made up my mind. I barely closed an eye over the last week, trying to think of something to help her. The easiest way would be to tell her the truth, but that’s not an option. I’ve noticed that her door doesn’t have a lock. Her sense of safety is nothing more than an illusion, and she knows it. My gut twists as I open the door and step inside.

Caelia spends a great deal of time reading. Nothing in this room reflects her presence. The bed sheets are pristine white; the only light source emanates from the nightstand lamp. There are no unfolded clothes scattered around, dirty mugs, framed photos, or a laptop—nothing.

“Hi.” I close the door and turn back to her. She has already leaped out of bed. “A knife, Wildfire? Are you flirting with me?” I grin, directing my gaze to the hand in which she holds the knife.

She’s not entirely broken. Her grip on the knife is steady, and I shouldn’t underestimate her. But I sense that she’s unsure of what to do with it. She’s dressed in an oversized T-shirt and long pajama pants, attempting to conceal as much of her body as possible, even though it’s warm inside the house. I can see how my presence might have given her the wrong impression. I’m dressed in shorts and a T-shirt, ready for bed. Usually, I sleep naked, but I don’t want to frighten her. Her internal struggle must be agonizing. It must be hell inside her mind.

“Why are you here?” she asks.

---