Page 36 of Coerced Wife

“Luigi,” I say, adjusting my cuff and walking over to shake his hand.

“Sit,” he says, motioning at the vacant chair next to Giorgio.

Giorgio gives me a shit-eating grin as I take a seat. It’s his way of showing me he’s pissed off that I left him in the dark about the reason I called the meeting.

“This doesn’t concern Raphael,” I say.

Raphael laughs, twirling his glass and clinking the ice against the hand-cut crystal. “Are you getting your balls in a knot because I manage the club better than you?”

“I said to cut it out, Raphael.” Luigi stamps his cane on the floor before turning to me. “Raphael is here to learn. Let’s get to the point of this meeting. I’d like to get back to reading my newspaper in peace.”

Cutting to the chase, I say, “I found our new bookkeeper.”

Luigi raises a brow. “And you need a meeting to tell us?”

“You could’ve just emailed the guy’s credentials.” Giorgio takes a cigarette from the pack in his shirt pocket and shoves it between his lips. “I gave up my golf for this.”

“It’s Anya,” I say.

The smile vanishes from Giorgio’s face, the cigarette dipping in the corner of his mouth.

Raphael laughs as if he finds the idea funny. “Your girlfriend?”

I keep my attention on Luigi because he’s the man I need to worry about. A silent question passes between us.

Is Raphael up to date?

Luigi locks his jaw, but he holds my gaze squarely. His non-verbal language says Raphael isn’t aware of thesituation. Luigi may stupidly trust him, but he’d never be foolish enough to expose Giorgio by openly admitting that his son assisted in a murder and that my girlfriend is a witness to the crime.

“Anya is a competent bookkeeper,” I say. “In fact, you’ll find her more than competent.”

Coming to my rescue, Dante adds, “She’s a genius with numbers. You won’t believe the shit she can calculate in her head.”

“It’s a win-win,” I say, challenging Luigi with my gaze. “Antonio is left off the hook, and Anya already knows how Lewis worked. Plus, we keep things in the family.”

Giorgio stares at me as if I’m nuts.

Luigi narrows his eyes. “She may be as brilliant as you claim her to be, but what about trust?”

“Trust isn’t an issue. She’s loyal to me.”

“Is she now?” Luigi says, the tilt of his lips mocking.

My answer is confident. “Yes.”

“Prove it,” he throws at me.

I expected him to say that. As far as he’s concerned, there’s no way Anya can ever trust the man who’s supposed to end her life. True, she doesn’t trust me like that, not how a wife is supposed to trust a husband, but she knows I’m not going to kill her.

“Why doesn’t your girlfriend trust you?” Raphael asks, openly provoking me. “Did you dip your dick in someone else’s honeypot?”

I don’t bother to tell him I’m not a cheater. I couldn’t give a fuck what he thinks. He, on the other hand, visited the hookers upstairs the day after his wedding.

“Anya finds herself very much in love with me,” I say, tasting the rancor of that lie like a bitter pill dissolving on my tongue.

The knowledge that she’d rather be miles away fromme hooks into my chest and rips holes where it matters in my heart. Her body and obedience are no longer enough. Claiming her started out as a game that made my dick very happy. And then other things came up, reasons I can barely admit to myself. But now that I’ve had a taste of her, I want everything—body, heart, and soul.

“Really?” Giorgio says, not even trying to hide the fact that he finds the idea ludicrous.

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