Page 29 of Hateful Vows
“Want what?”
“A cookie. I promise, they’re not poisoned,” he adds as he takes a bite and inhales sharply at the heat on his tongue, before laughing, child-like and delighted.
Carefully, I sit at the counter and take a sweet treat. When I bite into it, salt is the first thing I taste before the sugary dough, then the melting hot chocolate chips. It’s crunchy on the top and soft on the inside. A perfect recipe. I hum and devour the rest before taking a second. It would taste even better with a mint leaf on top.
“I’ll try next time,” Tino says. I must have said that last part out loud and I blush, furious with myself.
“Where is he?” I bark, but Tino’s unbothered. He keeps cleaning his station before hanging the apron on the side of the fridge.
“In his study. Don’t eat them all,sorellina.”
I wait until he’s gone to eat a third one, then lounge on the sofa, prepared to relax for the evening. But my mind refuses to let go, fixed on Dante.
I pad towards the office.
“If you’ve come here to gloat, save your breath,vipera. I’m in no mood to entertain you right now,” Dante says as I walk into the room. His father’s mansion has served as a base for his operations but here, in the centre of the city, at the top of one of the tallest buildings is where he feels at home.
It’s tempting to crush his sense of safety. But I’ve become accustomed to Dante Ventura’s light-hearted disposition. This gloomy version of him is… I don’t know what it is but I don’t like it. I already have one man in my life who barely smiles, I don’t need another.
Thinking of Aleksei playing house with Lucie makes my heart clench uncomfortably so I refocus on my husband.
“What’s the point of being married to you if I can’t revel in your failures?”
I intend to tease but even to my ears, it falls flat.
Perceval threads through my legs as I strut deeper into the room I’ve never been in before. He jumps on Dante’s lap and I shake my head at the sight of my husband giving him a forehead kiss. I want to hate it but I’m glad he’s getting comfort somewhere. It certainly won’t be from me.
A massive picture of a forest gives the space a serenity I wasn’t expecting. On the other side, the massive windows overlook the bustling streets of London’s financial district. It’s mesmerising.
“What are you doing here, Irina?”
“Tino left. He made cookies.”
Only years of hiding any trace of emotions allow me not to fidget.
Dante turns, giving me a caustic look, his eyes sunken when they’re usually a bright green that sparks with mischief. They trail me as I make my way towards him, heels tapping on the floor the only sound between us.
The air thickens with tension. Dante’s posture shifts as if poised to strike. I’m the cunning mouse baiting the hungry wolf. No matter what I do, Aleksei never takes the bait but Dante’s hot-blooded character is predictable. I like the familiarity of knowing he’ll rise to what I throw at him. Not many can say the same.
My legs brush his knees when I lean against the desk in between us. I haven’t visited his bedroom or touched him since the wedding, and he’s never knocked on my door either. We’ve been locked together, forced to cohabitate. I’ve been so good at avoiding him. Except today, I’ve barely seen him.
He drops my cat on the floor and it disappears behind me.
“I’ll ask you one more time, Irina. What are you doing here?” He enunciates words like he’s one step away from snapping and my heart flutters inside my ribcage.
I remain silent, bending over slightly to drag the fabric of my black skirt up my legs, revealing the garter that holds thin tights underneath. Cold air creates a path of goosebumps on my flesh. I could scream victory when Dante dips his gaze down to my legs and licks his lower lip.
He tilts his head and raises a brow. Moping and sadness isn’t my strong suit. I’m not a talker. A challenge, I can work with.
“I’m your wife, Dante.” The fire in his irises burns bright and he reclines in his chair. “What am I good for if not making you feel better?”
The cocky smile is back on his handsome face and I want to wipe it off again. But only me. No one and nothing else but me.
“Is that what you want,sposa mia? You want me to use your pretty little cunt? Make myself feel better buried deep inside you?” He glances down where my fingers glide against my underwear. I part my legs, letting him see the wet spot I’m creating with tight little circles against my clit.
“I can leave if you prefer,” I say with a nonchalance I do not feel.
I try to stand but his hands slap on either side of me, caging me in. “If my wife offers herself up to me, who am I to say no? Turn around.”
