Page 85 of Wicked King

I watch as her expression of outright determination begins to soften and then crumble. Her bottom lip quivers, and now I’m totally fucking lost. What did I do now?

“Jia…” I caress her cheek, running my thumb across her skin and catching the falling tear. “Please, tell me what’s wrong. This is never going to work if we’re not honest with each other.”

“I hate this,” she mumbles, and I jerk my hand back. A rueful smile emerges, and she pulls my hand back. “No, not that.” She blows out a breath. “I hate this incessant crying. I despise you thinking I’m weak; I abhor the idea of you seeing my flaws.”

“What flaws, spitfire? From where I’m sitting, you’re absolutely perfect.”

She snorts on a laugh, and on her, the awkward sound is the cutest thing I’ve ever heard. She draws in a long breath once the giggle subsides, and as if she’s made up her mind about something, she fixes her eyes to mine. “Promise me that you won’t think differently of me.”

I don’t think there’s anything this woman could say or do that would keep me from wanting her, from loving her. “I promise.”

“And that you won’t overreact.”

My brows furrow at that one. I’m not exactly known for my levelheadedness. “Damn it, Jia, just tell me.” Modifying my tone, I add more softly, “Please.”

Releasing my hand, she begins to unknot the tie of her robe. The red silk slides off her shoulders, and I’m so enthralled by the canvas of porcelain skin beneath: the full breasts, the firm torso and the smattering of dark hair between her legs, I nearly miss it.

As I double back to take her all in once again, my hungry gaze finds her twitchy fingers and moves up her arms.

To the dozens of shallow cuts across her forearms.

No, hundreds. Long ones, short ones, jagged ones, deeper ones.

A wave of red-hot fury pummels my veins as rage darkens my vision. “Who the fuck did that to you?” I roar.

Her eyes cast down to her tangled fingers and I immediately regret my outburst. Attempting to tamp down the burgeoning fury, I heave in a breath and school my expression into a mask of calm. Dropping to my knees, I crawl between her legs and capture her chin. This time, I don’t compel her eyes to mine.

“Please, Jia, tell me who did this to you so I can crucify the bastard, rip him apart limb from limb and drag his remains up and down the Westside Highway.”

She finally lifts her chin, her eyes willingly meeting mine. A tragic mixture of shame and despair darkens those bottomless irises, and my fingers curl into a fist at my side. “It was my father.”

Undiluted rage rushes my chest, tightening my lungs. “Fuck!” I growl. “That pezzo di merda, mother fucker, worthless son of a puttana.” The curses continue to fly as I leap to my feet and pace a tight circle around the bathtub. “How? Why?” I shout into the air, waving my hands like a lunatic.

“I don’t know,” she whispers, “because he enjoyed inflicting pain on others?”

“Fuck!” I snarl again. “If I can’t kill him, I’ll kill someone in his place then. Someone has to pay for this!”

A small hand closes around my forearm, jerking me from the bottomless downward spiral. “Marco, please, you promised you wouldn’t overreact.”

“How could I not? The man abused you, Jia! Your own damned father. The one person who is supposed to protect you.”

“I know,” she shouts back, her fingers tightening around my arm. “And that’s exactly why I turned out this way. Why I cried last night, why I’m scared to death to trust you, why I’m fucked up in the head.” She presses her finger to her temple in the form of a gun. “I can’t do this…”

Ripping her hand away, I squeeze both between my own. “Yes, you can. So our families fucked us up a little? It doesn’t mean we can’t overcome it together.”

“I don’t know if I can.”

Blinding realization hits me like a fucking freight train as I stare at this beautifully fierce but terribly broken woman. “That’s why you wanted an open marriage? You thought if you gave me an out, you wouldn’t suffer if I disappointed you.”

Her fine shoulders lift. “In my experience, men don’t change.”

“You’re wrong, and I’ll prove it to you.” I press a kiss to her forehead and draw her tight against my bare chest. “If you want an open marriage, you can have one, but there’s no one I want but you, my wife. You’re it for me, damn it, spitfire.”

CHAPTER 40

A VOW

Jia

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