Page 109 of Fortress of the King

The house is dark, just as I instructed Gus to keep it. He’s good at staying out of the way, as are my guards. None, except the one at the watchhouse at the gate, can be seen.

I park in the underground garage and shut off the engine.

My heart races in my chest like it never has before. I learned long ago, when my father and Mario began to train me in the business, to keep my emotions in check.

Never wear your heart on your sleeve, fuck, I don’t even have a heart anymore. Not like I did back when I still believed in more than darkness and destruction.

Your enemies should never know your next move, and that’s what she is right now,my enemy.

I punch in the code to the side entry that leads through a secret passageway and into my study.

This place always fascinates me. The architect who built it and remodeled it was slightly mad, so paranoid that he had a panic room cellar and an underground bomb-proof shelter built in case of doomsday. He couldn’t have known before his untimely death just how thankful I would be because of his foresight and ingenuity. It’s like this place was made to be mine.

The house is still and smells like pine needles and cognac.

I cross the expansive rug and see everything is in its usual place.

I pay a housekeeper handsomely to keep my place dust and dirt free. Since I never know when I’m going to be here, she comes once a week without fail, and when I’m in residence, she’ll clean after I’ve left, leaving no trace that I was ever here.

I loosen my tie as I decide to take the steps, instead of the built-in elevator, up to my bedroom, because that’s where I told Gus to keep the traitorous woman I’ve no idea what to do with.

She should be locked in a fucking dungeon. Or at the least, the guest suite, not that that’s punishment. But no. I have her close to me, even when the cold darkness swirls around me like a snake. I have to be there when she wakes.

I want the first thing she sees when she comes around is my face and the wrath I intend to inflict on her staring back from my eyes.

Lucky for me, I don’t have to wait long.

I enter my bedroom through the double doors, and the first thing I see is Rayne lying on my bed on her side, her long, golden locks spread out like a fallen angel along my silk pillows. She’s still in her dress from the Gala, of course.

For some reason that I can’t explain, I reach down and pull a throw over her body, covering her. I cross the room and pour myself a scotch from the tray on my bookcase as I turn to stare at her. After a few moments, I move back to the bed and sit on the edge, my fingers itching to touch her, to know what it feels like to feel the skin of the woman who lied to my face and tried to ruin me.

A strange thing happens, however.

Instead of the bubbling anger that I felt when I almost punched Enzo, and the rage that consumed me as I drove here plotting her death, I stare down at her now, and all I feel is…pity.

What would I have done in her shoes? What if it was Valentina?

Would I give a fuck about the person I was betraying to get what I really wanted? If my own flesh and blood were kidnapped and they were being threatened, could I honestly say I wouldn’t do the same?

The fact is, I know I would. I would do whatever it took to get my loved ones back. She’s no exception.

I close my eyes. I don’t know when my feelings turned to more than just lust, but even my heart – as blackened as it is – knows that what we shared was something more than just sex.

It was fucking perfect, if I’m honest with myself.

And it was all a lie. All outlandish lies.

But was it, though? A part of me wonders what if….I guess we’ll never know.

I get up and walk to the window, the night sky is too alluring for me not to seek solace in its blackened abyss. It lures me in like the darkness always can, and for a moment, I realize that I had the light for a while, like a beacon. She lit up my soul like an angel would, not the devil’s mistress that she turned out to be. Taking me to places I never dreamed possible.And I let her.

She let me fuck her in the bathroom stall, knowing all she knew.Why?One last hoorah?

I wonder…Would she have waited for me to fall asleep after the Gala? Long after we tousled in these very bedsheets? Wrapped up, in her arms, sated and satisfied?

All of it breeds a new form of anger inside me. One that fills me with bitterness as much as it does lust. I still fucking want her. My body betrays my mind on every level.

I run a hand through my hair and stare down at her form.

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