Page 26 of Desire and Revenge

“He’s so cute… What’s his name?” I ask quietly.

Sebastian turns sharp eyes on me, all amusement wiped clean from his face, “Don’t you know to not intrude when men are having a conversation?”

Before I can stumble through an apology, his fingers dig into my arm painfully, and I’m hurled inside the resort. I glance over my shoulder just before we go out of sight. And I’m not sure if it’s my imagination, but I swear Nero’s eyes are fixed on the back of my husband’s head, his expression a chilling mix of anger, disgust, and repulsion.

Even though I shouldn’t be worried—after all, he might just dislike men putting their hands on women—I feel a rising dread inside me. Not because I fear Sebastian might turn around and see him, but because Nero’s look is eerily similar to the one I’dseen before—the one he had when he smashed my assailant’s head into pulp.

And that’s what scares me the most.

It’s only when we walk into the courtyard where the rest of the wedding party are gathered that Sebastian releases me. I immediately paste a smile on my face as people start to approach us.

“You must be Sofia,” a slender man in corduroy pants and a beach print shirt says. “I couldn’t make it to your wedding, but I’m honored that you’re here for mine.”

“You must be Paolo,” I smile at him. “Where is the lucky bride?”

“Doesn’t get here till tomorrow morning, just an hour or two before the wedding. Her father is ridiculously overprotective.”

At my side, Sebastian snorts. “Even after you’ve paid for her in full? Now that is what is ridiculous here.”

The man chuckles, but it lacks humor. “It’s not like that, Lucchese. Nina and I have been together for so long. She’s a good girl, and I like her, you know. It’s not a transaction.”

“Go find the other women,” my husband whispers. “I can see Viviana and Aunt Danya.”

I shudder. If Viviana is a bitch, then Danya is the Queen Bitch. She can find a squeeze of fault out of the word perfection itself.

“Okay.” The only thing I want to do is run to the edge of the island, jump right into the ocean, and swim till I can’t anymore, or sharks take me, either one.

Smoothing my hand down my dress anxiously, I make my way across the room to where the two women are standing, staring over the room with identical pursed lips. Danya’s hair is a perfect silver pushed back and tied into a severe bun, like a boarding school matron.

“Hey,” I begin. “What time did you arrive?”

“I don’t know why you insist on being troublesome,” Viviana hisses. “It seems the more we try to guide you on the proper dress code for a woman based on your status, the more you insist on doing whatever you please.”

I don’t bother glancing down at my dress because I’ve come to realize that even if I wear heavy robes and a chastity belt, they’ll still find it indecent.

Danya tuts. “I hear Sebastian doesn’t touch you, hasn’t touched you in a while. Is that true?”

I don’t wonder how she knows. “No. It’s not true at all.”

The younger woman’s eyes slide down my body. “I would understand his reservations. Men like reserved women. They need to be able to unwrap you at the end of the day like a hidden treasure.”

“Of course,” I agree easily.

“That is beside the point,” the silver-haired woman says. “What matters is that you get pregnant and give him his heir. The sooner the better, or people will start wondering. And trust me, child, you do not want people to wonder about you. People can be cruel, and we don’t want that for you. We’re only looking out for you.”

A hysterical laughter bubbles up inside of me, and I press my mouth together to keep it in. The only people that have been cruel to me so far is them.

“Of course.”

I tune out the rest of their conversation, and my mind naturally goes to its new favorite subject: Nero. I think about how he had looked with his helmet-ruffled hair, the black turtleneck, and those dark jeans that molded to his long legs. He looks like he was made to ride that bike, the machine purring between his legs, and then I imagine it’s me astride him.

I clench my thighs together discreetly when I start to feel a curious throb at the junction of my legs. What is wrong withme? Are Danya and Viviana right about me being a hussy? Can Sebastian tell just by looking at me? Is that why he hates me?

“Aunt Danya,” Sebastian slides in beside me, arm going around my waist. “You look beautiful as usual.”

I try to remember if my husband has ever called me beautiful after our wedding day, and I can’t recall.

“You’ve always been a charmer,” the older woman chuckles, cheeks going red with pleasure.

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