Page 6 of His Wife

A gentle sigh echoes from behind me. “Right. And hey, now you’re part of this family, too. Married to a millionaire with a bad attitude and an unhealthy relationship with crime and brothels.”

Mira snickers, but I merely smile, the thought of them running whore houses slowly carving a hole in my chest.

“Oh, shit. I’m sorry,” she apologizes and slips in next to me. “It took me years to digest that last part so it no longer bothers me. And here I get my foot in my own ass by assuming you did the same over the span of a few weeks.”

I lick my lips and absentmindedly reach for the scar behind my ear, brushing the marred flesh. “I’ve heard the rumors of the Del Rossa brothers long before Alexius shoved that envelope down the front of my waitress uniform.”

“He did what?”

This time it’s my turn to chuckle as I glance at her sideways, feeling my cheeks warm. “He came into the diner where I worked and walked right up to me, practically pinning me against the wall while breathing down my neck.”

“Sounds like him,” she says dryly, rolling her eyes.

“He pulled out the black envelope and slipped it down my front, saying I had twenty-four hours.” The memory is so vivid, so detailed. I can remember the chills that erupted across my skin as his warm breath kissed my cheek. “I knew the moment I looked into his eyes he’d destroy me.”

Mira nudges me with her shoulder. “Destroy, as in a good or a bad way?”

“Verdict is still out on that.” I pull myself together and refuse to let the memory linger any longer. “I guess I don’t have to wonder whether the brothers frequent their own clubs.” I try hard not to let it sound like a question, yet I’m sure I fail, but secretly want her to tell me that Alexius has never gone to one of his own clubs, which is absurd. Of course, he has.

Mira unties her hair, shaking out the knots. “As a woman in this house, I’m not privy to any information regarding their business. They are incredibly secretive about everything, and it’s crossed my mind more than once that these hard-asses rule the Illuminati or have the Antichrist himself under their employment.” She sweeps her blonde hair into her fist and reties it in a messy bun, placing her arms on her hips. “But instead of making peace with the fact that I know nothing that goes on in this house, I make sure I have a pair of eyes and ears around here.”

I gape. “Are you serious?”

“Of course.” She shrugs, scowling as if I just asked the world’s most stupid question. “I live with these guys, Leandra. If shit goes down, I want to make sure I know what it is.”

“And what do you know about Myth?”

“Oh, Myth is the cream of the crop of all sex clubs. I’m sure you’ve heard the rumors.”

“I have. But being from the other side of town, the gossip that littered the streets was more about the lower-class clubs.”

Mira takes my hand and leads me to the leather couch, sitting down at the edge of the seat and pouring us both a glass of whiskey from the crystal decanter. She hands me mine before settling back. “What I know about Myth is that you have to be richer than Elon Musk and more powerful than the president to get access. Gambling is a big part of this family’s business—at least, that’s what I gathered over the years. Even though Myth is a sex club, I believe the poker and blackjack tables are the main attraction. It’s where the men roll out their dicks to see who has the bigger one.” She takes a sip of her whiskey and winces as she swallows. “I will say, I overheard Alexius and Nicoli talking once, and it sounds like they take good care of the girls who work for them.”

“What did you hear?” I ask, clutching my glass tighter.

She bites her lip and looks thoughtfully across the room. “One of them had suddenly gotten sick, and her gallbladder needed to be removed. Alexius paid for one of Chicago’s top surgeons to operate on her, and she received the best recovery care. From what I could hear, Alexius spared nothing to ensure she was well taken care of.”

A sliver of light breaks through below the dwelling surface of jealousy that starts to suck all the oxygen from my lungs. “He takes care of them,” I murmur, looking down at my glass and the swirling amber liquid.

“As his employees, yes.”

I scoff. “You might have eyes and ears around here, Mira, but your reach doesn’t go past the estate security gates. We don’t know what goes on behind the walls of Myth. I don’t think we ever will.”

God. The thought makes me sick to my stomach, my cruel imagination showing me torturous images of Alexius wrapped up in beautiful women and their perfect bodies. It makes sense that a man like him would prowl the proverbial terrain in search of those who can feed his hunger. Alexius is larger than life, and I’d be stupid, naive if I think for even a moment that I’m enough for him. I will never be enough, no matter how expansive my wardrobe is or how far I’m willing to go with my body to please him. There’s just not enough of me to keep a predator like Alexius sated for a lifetime.

Mira senses the shift, eyeing me with concern. “Don’t go there, Leandra. Nothing good can ever come from allowing your mind to go there. It’s dark and lonely, and no one will come for you there. If you want to thrive here, not just survive but thrive, you need to forget everything you’ve ever read or heard about love and romance. Forget about the kind of love you dreamt of when you were supposed to learn algebra in class. That whole American dream with the white picket fence, two kids, and a Yorkshire terrier running around doesn’t exist here. It will never exist here. Not when your heart belongs to one of them.”

I meet her sympathetic gaze, something familiar flashing within her light green irises. It’s like she can feel everything I am, relate to it somehow.

She slams back the last of her whiskey, cringes, and lets her eyes settle on the empty glass in her hands. “These brothers can’t be tamed, Leandra. Their hearts might be attainable, but that does not mean you can control the blood in their veins. And Del Rossa blood runs deep. It’s wild, thick, and vicious with a history that will always define who. They. Are.”

Her words scratch against the glass surrounding my heart, walls that can shatter from the slightest pressure. A protection layer unable to withstand the power of Del Rossa blood. The blood that runs through my husband’s veins—the blood that warms the flesh of the man I’m falling in love with.

“I’ve never been to Myth,” Mira continues, pulling me out of my thoughts. “And I’m sure Maximo would rather have his lungs pulled from his ass than have his little sister ever walk through those doors.”

I snicker. “Do you blame him? It’s a sex club.”

“And I’m a grown woman who can make her own decisions. It’s time my brother and everyone else around here realizes that.”

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