Page 16 of Coerced Wife

I obey on autopilot, opening my mouth for him to feed me.

While he replenishes my body with energy, a part of my soul shrivels up and dies.

Giorgio was wrong.

Power only feels good when it’s real.

CHAPTER

FOUR

Saverio

I’m tinkering with the engine of the Corvette in the open garage when Luigi pulls up on Monday morning.

My first thought is that I’m glad Anya is at work.

I put the spanner aside and straighten as he gets out of the car and makes his way over with the help of his cane.

Wiping the oil from my hands on a cloth, I watch him. I give him the first opportunity to speak, to come clean.

“You made quite an impression at the wedding,” he says, leaning on the cane.

I chuck the cloth on a bench. “Did I?”

“You know what I’m talking about.” He looks at me intently. “If people wondered about you and Anya, they don’t have any doubts about the nature of your relationship after Saturday.”

I keep my face blank. “I’m glad to hear I did a good job.”

He smiles.

I wait some more, wait for him to say it, to admit he painted a target on Anya’s back, but when he finally opens his mouth, it’s not to set things straight. It’s to tell me, “You’re like a son to me.”

Yeah. Until recently, I thought so too.

He studies me through squinted eyes. “I want you to give Raphael a chance.”

Resting my palms on the frame of the car, I lock my elbows. “You know my opinion about Raphael.”

“That’s why I’m asking.” His voice drops an octave. “And I never ask more than once.”

I keep his gaze squarely. “Is that a warning or a threat?”

“Good advice.”

“It’s my job to watch out for you. That includes disagreeing with you when necessary.”

“Raphael is family now. Giorgio will need the alliance when I’m gone. He needs you to work with him on this, not against him. I don’t want to go to war with you, Sav. You’re still my son-in-law. The fact that you and Rachele went your separate ways doesn’t change that.”

I cross my arms. “Did you give me a reason to go to war?”

A second ticks by, and then he says, “No,” lying to me in my face.

So that’s how it is. I guess that’s how it’s always been. I was too blinded by his approval and attention to notice that he always took me for water and never for blood. Perhaps I just saw what I wanted to see. At the end of the day, blood is always thicker than water. Maybe it’s an omen that my doctor friend, Nicole, said those very words to me not so long ago when she warned me that the biological father of Anya’s baby might make a claim on his child.

“But I’m not here to talk about Raphael,” he says when the silence stretches.

I grab the spanner and continue to loosen the rod bolt I was about to remove before he showed up. “What did you want to talk about?”

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