Page 51 of Bloody Vows
I need to go home.Now.
14
SIMONE
The estate feels oddly empty without Tristan.
After the unexpected run-in with him in the kitchen, I went back to bed, sleeping fitfully until the sunlight streaming through my windows woke me again. Tired and groggy, I got up and got dressed, forced down a quick breakfast, and took a walk before going through the motions of my morning workout.
Now, as I walk upstairs to shower, I swear I canfeelthat he’s not here.
It’s as if his presence permeates everything when he’s here.Because he’s impossibly overbearing, I think as I ascend the stairs, but deep down, I don’t think that’s really it.
It feels like I’m alone again, like I was after my father died. After he died, after I found out the truth about him, when I had to face an uncertain future, I felt like I was suffocating.
With Tristan gone, I feel like I can breathe again.
I have at least a few days. A few blissful days without Tristan’s demands or seductions or punishments. But as I get into the shower, leaning back into the hot spray, I remember his voice telling me that we’d have along conversationwhen hereturned home. I feel the burning stroke of his hand against my skin again. And I feel that slow, hot coil of arousal that never seems to be far away when he’s on my mind.
I hate him. And I want him. The two things should be mutually exclusive, as far as I’ve ever known. But with Tristan, that doesn’t seem to be the case.
And, strangely enough as I go about my day, I find myself missing our banter. Our fights. The barbed words we throw at each other, keeping me on my toes. Tristan is infuriating, but he engages with me. He makes me feel…
He makes me feel alive.
The thought is a shock. But it’s true, I think, as I sit down at the desk in the library and open my laptop, intent on doing a little online shopping instead of heading downtown with the security team Tristan assigned me. I’m still uncomfortable with them, and I don’t like the idea of it.
My whole life, I’ve moved through it along the path I was told to follow. I was a good daughter. A dutiful daughter. I got good grades in school, learned all the things I needed to know about managing a household, put effort into making myself beautiful and stylish and desirable for a future husband. I accepted that my father would choose who I would marry and that it would be for the good of the family.
And then he betrayed his closest ally, and abandoned me, and an Irishman from Boston swept in and made me his bride.
None of that was in my father’s plan. I don’t care what Tristan says; my father wouldn’t have married me to him. He would never have let someone with the last nameO’Malleytake over his empire. Tristan is an opportunist, and as far as I can tell, I’m right to stand up to him. To fight him every step of the way… which is something I’ve never done before, with anyone.
I feel like I’m finallymyself,instead of who I’m being told to be.
Apingon my laptop screen drags me out of my thoughts. I frown, seeing a message with the last nameTorrino. It can’t possibly be…
I click on the email, blinking with shock as I read it.
Simone,
As your email might be monitored, delete this as soon as you read it. I’m aware of your situation. Given the knowledge sooner, I might have tried to rectify it. There is still time. Meet me at Sol’s. Tomorrow at one. We’ll discuss options.
E.
I stare at the message,my pulse quickening. Enzo Torrino. The man I was supposed to marry before my father's death changed everything. I haven't seen him since the funeral, haven't even thought about him much since Tristan swept into my life like a hurricane. The last time I really thought about him was the day that Tristan arrived here, when I was heading down to meet the men who all wanted to change my fate by tying it up with theirs.
Enzo is a part of the past. I didn’t really want to marry him—he’s not particularly handsome or interesting—but hedoeshave influence. Not here in Miami, but in Chicago. My father saw him as the perfect potential match—a man who brought enough to the table to make him a worthy heir, but not one who thought so highly of himself that he’d think he was above my father’s advice or that he could do better than my father had already done.
My father would have hated a man like Tristan.
And my father was an evil man. If he would have hated Tristan… should I?
I quickly delete the email, my mind racing. I already know what I should do—ignore the email, or better yet, tell Vitto about it. TellTristanabout it. I know that talking with Enzo, let alonemeeting with him, doesn’t fit at all with the ‘rules’ that Tristan has set out for me.
I bite my lip, staring at the screen. Meeting with Enzo would be more than just disobedience. Tristan will be furious if he finds out. This goes beyond just locking him out of my room or refusing to respond to his advances. This is insubordination, betrayal, even infidelity, if I let it get that far.
But I won’t. I just want to hear what he has to say.If there’s a way out of this, don’t I want to take it?
