Page 54 of Wicked Sinner
"Congratulations," Bridget turns a page. "I hope you'll be very happy together."
Her complete lack of reaction is maddening. I was hoping for jealousy, for some sign that the thought of me with another woman affects her. Instead, she seems genuinely indifferent. Either that, or she’s an excellent actress.
I should let it go, but I can’t. The urge to keep needling her, to see if I can get her to give mesomething, is too strong.
"She's very interested in marriage," I continue. "Children. Building a life together."
"How refreshing," Bridget says dryly. "A woman who actually wants what you're offering."
"She does," I agree. "She understands what it means to be part of this world. She wouldn't fight me at every turn."
"Then marry her," Bridget finally looks up from her book. "Seriously, Caesar. If she's so perfect, if she's everything you want, then propose to her tonight. Problem solved." Her hazel eyes meet mine. “You’d be doing us both a favor.”
It's the logical solution—marry Isabella, legitimize my position, pay off Bridget, and let her leave my life. Find some way to make sure our child never suffers from this. But the thought of actually going through with it makes me feel sick.
"I already have a fiancée," I say quietly.
"No," Bridget corrects. "You have a prisoner who refuses to marry you. There's a difference."
I leave for the dinner party frustrated and angry, but I play my part perfectly. I sit by Isabella, compliment her dress, laugh at her jokes. I let her take my arm possessively when we're introduced to other guests, let her talk about our "future plans" as if they're already decided.
She's radiant with happiness, clearly believing that my attention tonight means something more than it does. When she kisses me on the cheek goodnight at her door, I let her, though I feel nothing but a vague sense of guilt.
"Thank you for a wonderful evening," she murmurs against my ear. "I hope it's the first of many."
The feeling of her warm breath and the sensation of her lips should turn me on, but I feel nothing. "I'm sure it will be," I lie.
When I return to the penthouse, I find Bridget lying in bed, watching a horror movie. She doesn't ask about my evening, doesn't show any interest in where I've been or what I've done.
Her indifference is more devastating than any jealous rage would have been.
"How was your date?" she asks finally, without looking up.
I take a slow breath. “It was fine,” I say finally, unsure of what else to say. I’ve tried everything I can think of.
Bridget turns the channel to something else. "Good. I'm happy for you."
And the worst part is, I think she might actually mean it.
—
Three days later,uncomfortably close to the deadline for me to choose someone—especially if I were to want to choose Catherine—I have a meeting with Konstantin and Tristan. Both men look grim as I enter, and I know immediately that this isn't going to be a pleasant conversation.
"Caesar," Konstantin says without preamble. "We need to discuss your situation."
"Which situation would that be?" I ask, though I already know.
"The Torrino girl," Tristan interjects. "Vincent is expecting an engagement announcement soon. He's been telling people that you're practically family already." He leans back in his chair, arrogant as ever. I remember the car following me, how I’d wondered if Tristan might have some hand in it, and I feel my jaw tighten.
"I haven't made any commitments to Vincent or his daughter."
"Caesar," Konstantin's voice takes on a warning tone. "We've been patient with your… adjustment period. But that patience has limits. The Torrino alliance would strengthen your position considerably."
"And if I'm not interested in the Torrino alliance?"
"Then you're a fool," Tristan says bluntly. "Vincent controls half the port authority, has connections throughout the shipping industry. His support would be invaluable.
"I don't need Vincent's support," I snap, my irritation quickly rising.
