Page 7 of Desire and Revenge

I draw up my knees, curling into a tight ball in the middle of the bed, then drag the comforter over me.

The first sob leaves my throat as soon as the bedroom door shuts behind my husband. My slender arms go around my body as it shakes with the sobs.

Crawling out of the bed carefully, I stagger to the bathroom and immediately turn the shower knob to the hottest setting.

I glance down at the bra and sheer lace stockings discarded on the floor where Sebastian had carelessly tossed them aside. I had felt so decadent wearing them, hoping he’d notice, but he hadn’t spared them a second glance.

A wave of disappointment washes over me as I step under the scalding spray of the shower, letting the heat burn away the remnants of the night.

By the time I’m done scrubbing, I’m no longer crying, at least.

I stand in front of the fogged-up mirror, staring at my swollen eyes and flushed face.

Irritated with my own self, I turn away. I can’t even muster up enough feelings to feel murderous towards him. I feel like an empty husk most of the time, but at this moment, there’s a restlessness under my skin. Or maybe I just don’t want to be at the scene of the crime.

Whatever it is, it has me shrugging on my lace nightie and dressing robe, hair still wet as I rush out the door.

Unfamiliar with the house, my steps become slower and more careful as I navigate the long hallways, curving staircase, and then more hallways, with only the faint moonlight spilling through windows, the only light in the house.

A noise startles me, and when I jerk around, I see it’s just branches fluttering in the breeze and tapping against the windows. At that moment, something catches my eye just beyond the trees.

Is that light?

Curious, I hurry to the backdoor and crack it open, waiting to see if any alarms will go off before taking a step out. When nothing happens after a minute, a smile curves my mouth and then I’m running towards the hint of light ahead.

The closer I get, the wider my eyes grow. And when I finally walk into the greenhouse, I have to pick my jaw off the ground.

“Holy shit.”

The greenhouse is beautiful. It has glass walls and intricate iron frames that shimmer in the moonlight, creating a sanctuary that feels almost otherworldly. Inside, the air is warm and richly fragrant with the scent of blooming jasmine and fresh earth.

Exotic plants ranging from lush ferns to vibrant orchids flourish in neatly arranged beds, their leaves catching the soft light like jewels.

There are also twinkling fairy lights draped over the iron framework, adding a whimsical touch and casting a gentle, enchanting glow that makes the space feel like a scene from a fairy tale.

If it weren’t for the gigantic diamond ring on my finger—constant reminder of the new nightmare that is my marriage—I’d almost believe that this moment is a dream.

I’m not usually a nature enthusiast, but I can’t help but fall in love with this place. Despite the rough night I’ve had, it somehow lifts my spirits and makes me feel better.

“I don’t think perfect mafia princesses are supposed to curse,” a dark voice scoffs, making me spin around with a startled cry.

From the dark corner, I can only see the fiery butt of a cigar, but I know exactly who it is even before he steps out of the shadows.

“What are you doing here? You shouldn’t be here.”

Nero Castello is still in his dark t-shirt and jeans combination, a dark mountain of a man. “Only one of us shouldn’t be here, Angel. And it isn’t me.” Then he raises one brow. “Running away already?”

“I’m not running,” I rush to say. “Why would you think that?”

Those dark eyes slide down my body in a slow perusal that makes my spine stiffen, and I immediately cross my arms over my chest to hide the hard points of my nipples when I remember I’m not wearing a bra, or any underwear, for that matter.

“Go sit down,” he orders.

Disbelief makes my eyebrows pull down. “I don’t take orders from you.”

Nero’s jaw hollows as he inhales from his cigarette ,and for some reason, my eyes are immediately drawn to the way his lips wrap around it.

“Suit yourself, Princess. It’s not my business if you cut your feet from one of the thorns. I’m sure your husband would love that.”