Page 70 of Pure Vengeance

They’d have the largest guest suite, including everything Dante needed to get better—at least for long enough to allow Natasha time to come to terms with losing him. Sadly, it was part of sharing one’s life with a pet. They never seemed to get half as many years as we wanted them to, and it was especially true for large-breed dogs.

As I settled her into the passenger seat of my car, I wondered if she’d come back to me if I showed her I wasn’t a complete asshole. I had to try, even though the idea was completely self-serving. If I did it right, I might, just maybe, get my wife back.

I’d have to be careful though. Instead of throwing her into the deep end of my sexual depravity, I’d have to coax her gently, without force, and remind her of how good it had been.

All of that could come later—after Dante was better.

“Where are we going?” she asked without looking at me as I turned left out of the lot.

“I’m taking you home.”

“You’re going the wrong way.”

“If you plan to stay with Dante, you’ll be doing it at my house. I already set things up with Dr. Mendez.”

Her face reddened and I steeled myself for the oncoming storm.

“If you think for one goddamned second that you’re putting my dog into that disgusting kennel, I will?—”

“No. He’s going to share your suite.”

She opened her mouth—probably to tear me a new asshole—then shut it. “Not your room?”

“You’ll have your own on the other side of the house.”

After several seconds, she said, “Fine. I want a deadbolt on my door. I also want a gym installed to my specifications at your expense before the end of the week. My trainer visits every day between nine and noon. Until the gym is installed, you’ll clear the west lawn for my use.”

“Done. Anything else?”

“Yes. I don’t want to see you. I don’t even want to know you’re alive. That goes for Saoirse too, and I’ll be carrying a weapon at all times in case either of you decide to fuck around and try for me.”

Because I was a sick bastard, my cock thickened as I imagined her armed and ready to kill.

Her phone rang, cutting off my agreement. She hadn’t left me much choice. If I wanted her back, it had to be on her terms.

“Misaki, hi. I’m sorry I was a no-show for training today. Dante got sick.”

She glanced at me as her trainer replied, then said, “Thank you. I’m hoping for a good outcome. Anyway, I’d like to move my lessons to the dojo if that’s okay. Also, bill me for the missed lesson, but that one and all future bills go to Lachlan O’Donnell until I say otherwise.”

Ouch.

I didn’t protest though.

After giving her trainer my address, she ended the call. “When can I expect my dog?”

“Probably not until late this afternoon. It will take time to get the equipment in place and work out scheduling for the staff.”

“Okay. I want someone to get my car from the clinic.”

“All right.”

“Good.”

“Are you planning on going somewhere?”

“Yes.”

And… we were back to monosyllabic answers. Deciding to pick my battles, I let her lapse into silence until we got home.

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