Page 35 of Bloody Vows
"How are things going with your new wife?" he asks without preamble.
"Fine.” I shrug. “Why?”
“The marriage was consummated last night?”
“Christ.” I throw him an irritated stare. “Yes. I fucked my wife. Did you want me to bring the bloody fucking sheet to the meeting?”
“I wouldn’t have objected.”
“Fucking hell.” I run my hand through my hair. “That’s some old-world bullshit. Yes. I fucked her. She was a virgin, by the way, if you wanted confirmation. She’s not now.”
“Good.” My father seems unfazed by my outburst. “And you’re doing all that’s necessary to get her pregnant?”
“Oh, for fuck’s sake.” I shake my head. “Do you want me to detail how many times I came in my wife last night, or…”
“Tristan.” He looks at me with that even stare that I’ve grown used to over the years, the one that I know precedes a lecture. “This isn’t a joke.”
“I don’t think it is one.” I turn to face him fully. “I’m aware of the responsibility that you’ve given me. I’m aware that it will take a lot to hold this territory. I just don’t think my bedroom habits with my wife are the most important thing to discuss right now…”
“I want to be very clear about something.” He interrupts me. “This marriage, this alliance—it's bigger than just you and her. The success of our expansion into Miami depends on the stability of this arrangement."
"I understand that."
“Then you understand why your ‘bedroom habits,’ as you call them,areimportant. It is important that your marriage is consummated. It is important that you took Simone’s virginity, and that youaresure that she was a virgin. And it’s important that you get her pregnant as soon as possible.”
My jaw tightens. “She bled. She was a virgin.” The memory of me pushing my bloodied fingers into her mouth, making her lick her blood off of them, flashes back into my mind, and my cock swells inappropriately, aroused just from the thought of Simone.
“Good.” My father nods approvingly. “Then she’s accepted her fate? She’s the compliant, dutiful wife that a man like you needs to succeed in this venture?” His gaze doesn’t waver.“Because at your reception last night, she looked anything but compliant or dutiful.”
I think of the locked door this morning. “We’re… working on it.”
One iron-grey eyebrow rises. “Working on it. What is there to work on, Tristan? Break your wife in. Make her submit to you. She is not in charge—she never has been. Not when her father was alive, and not now.”
“She can be… difficult.” I resist the urge to pinch the bridge of my nose. “She’s not happy with the way this has played out. And honestly, I can understand…”
It’s the wrong thing to say. My father’s expression darkens instantly. “Understand? What is there to understand, Tristan? You saved her. You married her and saved her father’s empire instead of leaving her to die and taking it anyway. She should be grateful to you.”
I said the same thing to her. A flash of guilt stings in my chest. “I’m just saying, her feelings about all of this…”
“Feelings.” My father snorts. “Is she getting under your skin already, son?”
“No, I just…”
“Listen to me.” His voice drops low, deadly serious. “Her part in this is almost done. She married you, she fucked you. She gave you legitimacy, gave you access to the Russo operations and connections. The marriage is consummated, so it can't be annulled. All that's left now is for you to get her pregnant to secure the succession, and after that, she's nothing more than a pretty decoration. Once she’s carrying your heir, once she gives you a healthy son, she’ll have done her duty entirely, and she can fade into the background. She doesn’t even have to mother the child, for fuck’s sake. She can get a nanny. Just get her pregnant, Tristan, and you won’t have to deal with her unless you want to."
The casual dismissal of Simone as a person, as my wife, makes something twist uncomfortably in my chest. This morning I was reminding her of my control over her, howIpossess her now, but hearing my father talk about her like this… "She's not just a decoration."
"Isn't she?” My father looks at me as if I’m losing my mind. Maybe I am. I shouldn’t be arguing with him about this… what I’ve said myself to Simone isn’t so different. “What else is she, really?” he continues. “She has no role in the business, no particular skills or talents that benefit our organization. She's a symbol, Tristan. A beautiful, expensive symbol of your legitimacy. Nothing more."
"She's my wife..."
"She's your acquisition." His green eyes, so like my own, are hard with disapproval. "And if you start confusing business with pleasure, if you start thinking with your cock instead of your brain, you'll jeopardize everything we've worked for."
My jaw tightens. “I’m not. I know what we’ve worked for. What I’ve worked for. This matters to me.”
My father looks at me keenly, his eyes narrowing. "Remember why you're here. You're here to build an empire, to expand our influence and power. You're not here to play house with a woman who resents everything you represent."
I let out a sharp breath. She does resent me. And in the moments when I’m away from her—when I can think clearly—I can understand why. I usurped her father. I took away any right she had to her inheritance. I’m a stranger who has consumed her entire life.
