Page 41 of The Sicilian Billionaire's Neglected Wife
He didn’t let himself finish the thought.
****
HER HEAD WAS GOINGto explode. Actually explode. Grey matter on the hotel walls, and wouldn’t that make a spectacular headline?
“Racing Champion’s Wife Dies of Hangover, Husband Still an Ass.”
“What the hell were you thinking?” Aivan paced their suite like a caged panther, all coiled muscle and barely leashed violence. Morning light streamed through the windows, turning him into something gilt-edged and dangerous. “Do you have any idea what could have happened? What almost happened?”
She pulled the pillow over her face. Maybe if she suffocated herself, the pain would stop. The pillowcase smelled like her own sour breath and regret.
He yanked it away. “I’m talking to you.”
“I don’t even drink!” The words exploded out of her before she could stop them. “They said it was non-alcoholic!”
He stopped pacing. “What?”
“The champagne. For your victory toast.” She pressed her palms against her temples, trying to hold her splitting skull together. “Someone gave it to me. Said it was the alcohol-free kind. I was just trying to celebrate your win and—”
“You were drugged.” His voice went deadly quiet.
“I was trying to be a good wife!” She sat up too fast, immediately regretting it as the room performed a nauseating carousel spin. “Supporting you. Toasting your success. While you were letting that reporter climb all over you!”
“Letting her—” His eyes flashed. “That’s your excuse? You talked to half the men in Monaco because of a reporter?”
“I didn’t mean to! I was looking for—” She stopped, horror washing over her as fragments of the night returned. “Oh no. Oh no. Did I really ask strangers about fidelity?”
“Five men.” His voice could have frozen hell. “Eusebio counted five men you approached. Asking if they were faithful. Telling them you needed someone better than your husband.”
Tears burned her eyes. “I didn’t mean—”
“Telling them I don’t love you.” He stalked closer, fury radiating from every line of his body. “Advertising our private business to strangers. Making yourself available.”
“I wasn’t—”
“That reporter means nothing.” He was looming over her now, hands braced on either side of her hips, caging her in. “Less than nothing. But you? You were ready to replace me with the first ‘faithful’ man you could find?”
“That’s not—” The tears came then, hot and unstoppable. “That reporter was all over you! Touching you! Offering herself to you! And you just sat there!”
“It’s part of the job—”
“Part of the job?” The words tore from her throat. “Part of the job is letting other women paw at you like you’re some prize stallion?”
“You’re being irrational.”
“I’m being—” She was sobbing now, all the pain and fear and jealousy pouring out. “Do you know what it’s like? Watching them throw themselves at you? Knowing you could have any of them? Knowing one day you’ll realize you can do better than some nobody you married out of obligation?”
“Sienah—”
“My father did it.” The words poured out like poison from a wound. “Left my mother for his secretary. Someone younger, prettier, more exciting. Someone who wore red lipstick and cheap perfume and laughed like breaking glass. Broke Mama’s heart so badly she never recovered. Used to find her crying into her pillow at three AM, trying to muffle the sound so I wouldn’t hear.”
Her chest heaved with the effort of finally saying it all. “And then he died. Died trying to steal money from his employer to keep his new woman in designer bags. Died for her while Mama cried herself to sleep every night, clutching his old shirt that still smelled like his aftershave.”
She looked up at him through her tears, seeing him blurry and beautiful and terrible. “And I swore I’d never be her. Never let myself become my mother. But here I am, watching my husband collect women like trophies, waiting for the day he decides I’m not enough anymore. So please don’t cheat on me. Don’t make me into her. If you can’t be faithful, if you need variety, just let me go before—”
“Never.”
The word came out savage, ripped from somewhere deep in his chest. Like the very thought of letting her go incensed him beyond reason.
