Page 60 of Trapping His Darling

“My ring scratched her when she fake hugged me.”

I had noticed the vintage trinket on her finger, and had made a note to replace it with something more suitable, but figured it was a family heirloom because she never took it off.

I held out my palm. “Give it to me.”

My wife’s shoulders slumped as she pulled the ring off and handed it over. I studied the poison jewelry, while recalling memories I had of her fidgeting with it every time I upset her. I opened it to find a tiny needle; one that was overly sharp, and likely hollow like a fang on a snake.

“You have put me in a difficult position,” I said, with more control than I felt. I closed and pocketed the ring.

“She tried to kill me first.”

“She should have not been here in the first place.” I began undressing my wife. “Have I ever told you about Alexie?”

“No.”

“I’m second born. My brother, Alexie, used to be the heir.”

“What happened?” she asked, stepping out of the pool of fabric around her ankles.

“He betrayed my father by sleeping with the Don’s wife. He was banished. The alliance between us and the Italians has been strained since.”

I paused to reflect, thinking back to him impregnating Gianna. I couldn’t help but feel that he would have run the Bratva into the ground if he had been in charge. Reckless.

“Then he got what he deserved,” she said quietly as I removed my belt. “Don’t you think?”

“Yes, but you too have put us in a precarious position with the mafia. This might be the slight that tips the scales, propelling us into an all-out war with the Italian syndicate in the area.”

“I’m sorry.” She looked at the folded belt in my hand, then ducked her head and worried her fingers.

“You undermine my authority when you make decisions like this without me.” I pulled her over my lap. “I cannot allow that, Tiffany.”

What I did next was brutal.

When it was all said and done, I had laid enough stripes across her ass and thighs to break her. She didn’t even plead for mercy anymore. Just sobbed quietly. There was usually something satisfying about breaking the spirit of those I tortured, but this made me sad.

We sat in the quiet after I had put aside the belt. I rubbed her back until her breathing evened out. I then moved Tiffany to the bed, keeping her on her stomach. I gave her proper aftercare, so the few welts that broke the skin didn’t get infected.

I then got in the bed and held her until she fell asleep.

Tomorrow, I would have to move us to my father’s house. This place was no longer safe, especially for Tiffany to be home alone.

CHAPTER TWENTY EIGHT

Viktor

One week.

That was it. One week of blessed, quiet obedience where my beautiful wife simply played with her plants.

Now she was missing, and so was her poison ring.

I knew in my heart that she didn’t run away from me. She would never leave behind her stuffed dog, and jars of dicks. Those were her most precious and prized possessions. She often slept with Hero when I worked late.

Clenching my fists, I stormed through the house. There was no way she got off this property on her own, which meant someone took her. And it had to be someone who knew where the cameras were.

Did someone hurt her?

Did someone murder her?

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