Page 45 of His Cursed Heart

Alone and married.

And already broken.

The car ride is silent, exactly like she wants.

The last twenty-four hours have been a completely chaos. From the moment we kissed for the first time until she said goodbye to her brother.

The torture she had on her face when he begged her to come back from him is something I’ve never seen on her face.

We are playing a dangerous game. One moment we hate each other so bad that we almost kill one another, and one moment our eyes are having an intimate conversation.

I made a mistake when I took her garter down.

Smelled her skin.

She has a scent that I’ve become obsessed with, and the need to feel her smell on me is too much. That’s why I snuck my teeth into her flesh. Her smooth skin that was so hot under my touch.

Althea Seraphina Moretti will not be just my death, she’ll be the one who will make me beg for it, for mercy.

I stop the car at the gate of the hotel and Althea doesn’t wait another second and she exits the car.

I sigh and I open the door, going to the truck to take out our bags.

My wife waits for me at the reception and behind the counter is a woman who has wide eyes and an open mouth.

“Moretti.” I say calmly, even if I’m beyond calm.

The woman just keeps looking at me and before I have time to snap, I see my wife straighten.

“A room under the name Moretti.” She looks annoyed.

I’m too tired to think of her jealousy, or if she even feels that emotion.

We are heading towards the elevator and the silence between us is becoming too awkward.

She pushes the button and the doors open, letting us go in. Althea pushes again the button that indicates our floor and stands next to me like a ghost.

As the elevator moves, I peak a look at her and for the first time tonight I see how tired she actually is.

Her face is pale and her cheeks are drawn back.

Did she eat anything?

The bags under her eyes are now visible because the makeup starts to wash away from her face.

Tonight, I met two versions of my wife which I've never seen before.

One in which her soul was breaking in her eyes at the thought of leaving her brother.

And one in which she was trembling in anger.

Althea is a volcano. Not like one.

She is one.

She keeps everything in her until she explodes. She doesn't want to show emotions, thinking that people will call her weak, and when she can't hold them anymore, she lets them out in the most consuming way possible.

How can I get her to trust me when we make a step forward and five backwards.

---