Page 109 of Handsome Devil
“She doesn’t know what she wants,” Achilles sneered. That he was an ableist fuck was the least surprising thing I learned this century.
I bent Lila down, careful to cradle her head—poor girl was as arrhythmic as a pet rock, not one musical bone in that body—and spun her halfway.
Her cheeks were flushed pink, her mouth parted, and she stared at me with a mix of awe and joy, like I’d plucked a particularly fanciful, glittering star and gifted it to her.
“I think she does. I think she very much wants to be treated like a normal teenager.”
Achilles’s jaw tightened, and Gia was now giving both of us her full attention.
I spun Lila around, stared into her eyes, and very slowly mouthed, “I’m going to say horrible things right now. I don’t mean any of them. Nod once if you understand.”
I waited a beat. Two beats.
She nodded.
The kid goddamnnodded.
“Look how happy she is,” I murmured, smiling to the young woman, ready to deliver the final blow. This wasn’t just to mess with Achilles. I wanted him to know he was selling his sister short. That she understood the world better than he gave her credit for. “I bet there are other ways I could make her happy. Is she promised to anyone yet? My marriage is shaky these days.”
“What the bloody hell is wrong with you?” Gia ripped herself from Achilles, staring at me in abhorrence. Her fists were curled tight. “She’s achild.”
“I’m barely touching her.” I continued swaying Lila in my arms with enough space for Jesus between us. Lila seemed quite happy by the way she clung to me, her arms fastening around my shoulders like I was an anchor, innocent eyes pleading for me to continue.
Achilles, like Gia, didn’t like my little joke. In fact, as soon as the words fell from my mouth, he was jerked back by Luca, who left his unexciting fiancée to growl, “He’s just messing with you, you idiot.”
“Tate.” Gia stomped.
“Gia.”
“This is incredibly disrespectful to all of us.”
“If you want me to stop dancing with another woman, just say the word, and I will.”
She clamped her mouth shut.
I shrugged. “Very well.”
I spun Lila again.
Tears clung to my wife’s waterlines. My knees nearly buckled at the sight. Yet I couldn’t stop myself. I wanted us to be exclusive. To never see her in another man’s arms again.
Spinning Lila for the third time, I thought I heard a lilt of juvenile laughter. Achilles and Luca were ready to rip her frommy arms, but they didn’t. They saw her having fun for the first time in what I assumed was years. Maybe ever.
Gia pivoted on her red-soled heels and tromped her way off the dance floor. I finished the waltz with Lila, then escorted her back to her pitiful table, determined not to give my maddening wife any more power over me than she already had.
Plus, Lila deserved to be bidden goodbye properly. I had no idea when exactly I grew a fucking conscience, but something in me knew that normal Gia, not the one who was pissed off with my ass, would want me to treat this girl right.
Practice empathy, Dr. Patel’s words echoed in my head. At the time, I didn’t see a need to try.
Now, I was willing to play along. For her.
When I returned to our table, Gia wasn’t there.
“Where’s my wife?” I asked Enzo, who now seemed to be flirting his way into a threesome.
“I’m off duty,” Enzo quipped, his eyes never wavering from the blond and brunette he was chatting up. “Ask someone who car—”
I fisted his bow tie, yanking him so our noses squashed together. “Let’s try again, shall we? Where is my wife?” For the full effect, I palmed the pocket where he kept his knife, silently signaling I could easily cut his thigh if he pissed me off.
