Page 66 of Coerced Queen

“Where are you?”he asks in a strained voice when I answer.

“On my way home,” I say, sounding as tired as I feel.

“That doesn’t answer my question,tesoro.”

I remove the USB key and shut my laptop.“Please tell Livy I’ll be home in two hours, three max, depending on the traffic.”

“Where are you?I’m giving you this one chance to tell me because I’m going to do the right thing and let you explain why you disappeared for three hours without taking a single damn guard with you.”His tone carries a clear warning.“Don’t make me track your phone and come after you.”

“I’m at Shinnecock Hills.Explaining is going to take more than a few minutes, so it’ll have to wait until I get home.”

“Anya,” he growls in my ear.

“I’ll see you later,” I say, ending the call.

I need to come to terms with what I’ve become—an accomplice to multiple murders—and I have two hours to do so.But when I think about Raphael and what he did, I know deep down where it matters that I won’t hesitate to point my gun at him and pull the trigger.That makes me no different than Saverio.There’s no point in sugar-coating it or pretending otherwise.I’m a mob wife, and just like Livy, I embraced that role with my heart and my soul, giving it everything I’ve got.

It’s dark when I pull up at the house.All the downstairs lights are on.Saverio opens the front door even before I’ve cut the engine.

I grab my bag and my laptop, trudging across the gravel.He watches me with flaring nostrils and a bunching jaw as I greet the guards and climb the steps to the porch.

Stopping to face him, I consider the turns my life has taken.Some of them he forced on me.Others, I chose.It both scares and liberates me.It makes me feel strong and weak at the same time.I’m simultaneously unstoppable in my determination to save my family and vulnerable in my trampled affection.All my power was taken from me, and now I’m taking it back.It’s always been like this between us.Saverio never made me feel loved or hated.He always woke this duality of sentiments in me, setting me free and making me strong while keeping me captive and dictating my behavior at the same time.

But this?This is a turning point.

He leans his weight on the cane in his hand and wraps the other one around my nape, pulling me close to press a kiss on my forehead.A moment passes.And another.He sets me free, searching my eyes for answers I’m ready to give him.

“Come inside,” he says, wrapping an arm around me.“It’s cold.”

I let him guide me into the welcome warmth of the house.It smells like lasagna.“Where’s Claire?”

“Livy put her to sleep.”He takes my bag and then my coat, deftly putting everything away with one hand.“She hasn’t woken yet.”

He’s angry.No, he’s furious.I hear it in the even tone he forces, in the willpower it takes to keep his voice level.It’s not a factual or conversational kind of level.It’s the kind that festers with uncontainable emotions.

“I kept your dinner warm,” he says, studying me with that shocking blue gaze that’s almost see-through.“You must be starving.”

He’s always taken care of my needs, even when he’s angry with me.I follow him to the kitchen on auto-pilot, letting him pull out a stool for me at the counter.

When I’ve taken a seat, he pours a glass of alcohol-free wine and pushes it my way before going to the oven.

“You’re not using the crutches,” I remark.

After fitting an oven glove, he removes a plate from the warming-drawer and carries it to me.His smile is flat.“Slow progress.”

“That’s a big milestone.You shouldn’t make light of it.”

“Eat,” he says, jutting his chin toward the food before returning the oven glove to its place in the drawer.

Perversely, I’m hungry.Despite everything twisting me up inside, my stomach reminds me with a growl I need energy.

Saverio’s expression darkens.“When was the last time you ate?”

The fact that I have to think about it deepens his frown.

I take a sip of the red wine, enjoying its fruity flavor.“Breakfast.”I think.

“You’re breastfeeding.”His mouth sets in a hard line.“You should take better care of yourself.”

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