Page 18 of The Sicilian Billionaire's Neglected Wife
Sienah
“IS THAT THREAT SUPPOSEDto make me change my mind?”
Cold. Businesslike. The words hang between us like I’ve presented a bad contract instead of shattered our marriage with three small words.
I blink. Once. Twice.
Waiting.
But there’s nothing in his eyes, nothing in his voice, nothing but that tone he uses for incompetent mechanics who’ve failed to meet his standards.
A laugh escapes. Wrong. All wrong. Too high and shaky and broken, nothing like the woman who spent hours making everything perfect for tonight.
“Not a threat,” I manage. “I would never...I’m not trying to...”
The words won’t come.
How do you explain you’re not threatening someone when your heart is crumbling? When all you wanted, all you’ve ever wanted, was for him to fight for you just once?
He watches me with dark eyes that used to make my pulse race.
Now they just...watch.
Cataloging. Assessing. Filing me away like a problem to be solved later or maybe never at all.
Tears burn behind my eyes. Hot. Unstoppable.
This table.
This beautiful, romantic table where I arranged every candle with shaking hands, scattered rose petals like a fool in love, chose champagne from our wedding year because tonight was supposed to be special. Tonight was supposed to be everything.
I’d thought...
“You don’t even know, do you?”
Small words. Lost words. They slip out before I can stop them.
Silence.
I watch a candle flame dance, wax pooling ivory at its base like my wedding dress puddles in old photos. That dress. I’d been so happy, so sure I was the luckiest girl in the world to marry Aivan Cannizzaro.
“It’s our tenth anniversary today, Aivan.”
His name cracks. Breaks. Falls apart in my throat like everything else.
Ten years.
Ten whole years of my life measured in his schedule, his races, his victories, and he doesn’t even remember the date that started it all.
“Ten years ago, you put a ring on my finger and promised—”
