Page 47 of Hate Mates

I pull back, watching the way Caterina’s breath catches, the way her lips remain parted and she flutters her lashes. I see something raw and unguarded flicker across her face before she locks it down.

And just like that, our fate is sealed; intrinsically linked for eternity.

SIX

Dominic

Silence engulfs us as we cross the threshold into my home.I guess, technically, it is our home. There are no guests here, no overbearing stares from my family or hers, nothing but the weight of our own company.

Caterina hovers by the entrance, her head tilted slightly as she looks around the foyer. My home is modest—at least to me—but there is still a grandeur to it with the tall ceilings and the sweeping double-wide staircase. White walls stand tall around us, with colorful artwork hanging on them and marble floors beneath our feet.

The dim lighting from the lamp by the door casts a soft glow across her face, making her look delicate. But I know better. She’ll open her mouth and whip me with that wicked tongue of hers.I wonder what else that wicked tongue of hers could do?

Throwing my keys into the bowl by the door, I stalk from the hallway toward the back of the house and the kitchen, angry at myself for even thinking about her mouth and what it is capable of.

It unsettles me more than it should that she’s here. Caterina was never meant to step foot in this house. She belongs at theestate with my brother. That was the plan, but I had to bait her.To get caught. And now she’s in my space, in my home, staining every part of it with her scent, her voice, and her goddam presence.

I open the refrigerator with more force than necessary, pulling out a bottle of water before letting the door swing shut. Unscrewing the cap, I gulp down the contents like a man who’s been stranded in the Sahara. The hesitant click of her heels approaching has my eyes closing and my body tensing.

When I open them, Caterina has come to a stop beside the kitchen island, resting her palms on the surface, one on top of the other. Her engagement ring—the one my brother gave her—sits proudly on her finger, glistening under the lights.

I force my gaze away, but the burning in my chest lingers, sinking deeper until my stomach hardens. The desperate need to get away from her rushes through me, fueling my movements. I shrug out of my tuxedo jacket and head for the stairs.

“Are you going to say anything or are you going to spend our entire marriage giving me the silent treatment?” Caterina calls, her voice tight and her frustration evident as she follows me.

Wouldn’t she like to know?

The corner of my mouth kicks up in a smirk, but I keep moving, praying that my non-answer will deter her.

“Are you seriously just going to walk off?” I don’t answer, taking the steps two at a time. “You’re behaving like a child. I’ve never been here before, Dominic. I don’t know where anything is.”

I reach my bedroom, leaving the door open as I throw my jacket onto a chair. Caterina comes to a stop on the threshold, her hands on her hips as she huffs out an annoyed breath.

Removing my cufflinks, I look at her in the reflection of the mirror. “I wasn’t aware that I was supposed to give you a grandtour. Maybe I should have arranged champagne and asked the string quartet to return with us?”

She scoffs, stepping into the room but keeping her distance. “It’s called manners. You might want to give them a try sometime.” Her eyes flicker over me from head to toe before disgust settles into her features. “But I guess I shouldn’t have expected anything less fromyou.”

“I don’t think having manners was something I promised to do. If you wanted a cordial husband, you should have married my brother. Oh, wait.” I let the insult hang in the air until it’s suffocating us.

Her lips part, and for a second, I think she might show me the cracks in the perfectly made up front that she’s kept in place all day. Disappointingly, she lets out a slow breath and folds her arms across her chest. “You’re infuriating.”

“Thank you, dearestwife,” I say mockingly, unbuttoning my shirt as I walk to the closet. “Just making sure I keep those vows I made today.”

I expect her to storm off, lock herself away in a room somewhere, but I feel her eyes on me as I toss my shirt aside. Turning toward her, with my tattoo-covered chest bare, I raise a brow in question. Her eyes flicker down my body before she snaps them back to my face, and a blush works its way up to her cheeks.

She turns away and clears her throat. “You don’t even care, do you?”

I pause, my fresh black t-shirt halfway up my arms. “Care about what?” I sigh.

“That we just got married. That everything about our situation is messed up and despite how much we hate each other, our families still expect us to play the part of the doting husband and wife.” Her voice sharpens. “This isn’t a love story.You made that very clear at the altar, but what exactly is this to you, Dominic?”

I pull the t-shirt over my head, my lips curling as I pull it down my body. “A business deal. Different brother, same terms.”

As I cross the room, she steps into my path, lifting her chin. “Where are you going?”

Placing my hands on the curve of her waist, I revel in the way her entire body tenses. “Out.”

She pushes out of my hold, stumbling back in her haste. “Where?”

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