Page 78 of Possession

Now that I’m here, I realize he’s the one who made me believe these things. He built himself up to be the biggest and best and the most powerful.

I’m sure it made him feel bigger and more important than he is.

Because I didn’t grow up with live-in servants or cooks or butlers. Looking back, if I had grown up with this opulence, I’d probably eat it up.

But I want no part of it. Allowing June and Miranda to cook and Spencer to wait on me hand and foot feels like I’m buying into this life I was sold into.

Cleaning up after myself or insisting on making my own lunch might not be much of a stand, but it’s my own way to keep a hold on reality. Even if that hold is weak and by the tips of my very blunt fingernails, it’s all I have left.

I push my chair out to stand and look across the table at my new, young friend. “I’ll get this, Rocco. You were gone for most of the afternoon and didn’t finish the geometry review.”

He pushes his dark blond hair from his forehead. “I’d rather do dishes.”

“Please, ma’am,” June tries one more time. “Mr. Torres would want you to help Rocco. I’ll get this.”

I shake my head and put my foot down once and for all. “Rocco is smarter than he lets on. It took one day of him diving back into it, and all the miserable theorems and equations came back to him. At this point, my job is to make sure he stays on track—he doesn’t need me looking over his shoulder. I’d rather do the dishes.”

Rocco rolls his eyes and hands me his plate. “I never thought I’d look forward to a test, but I can’t wait for this shit to be done.”

“You have to stay on track. If you finish, we can hang out before Boz gets back.”

Rocco stuffs his hands in his pockets. I’m not sure he’ll ever be used to wearing business casual. Just like always at the end of the day, he’s rumpled and wrinkled. “Gotta admit, this is a weird-ass family I never thought I’d have. When they told me I’d have to work here for the Marino family, I never thought I’d be sent back to fucking high school.”

I stack the plates higher. “The sooner you pass the test, the sooner you can get back to doing … whatever you used to do.”

“I can’t wait,” he mutters. “I’ve only been at this for a couple days, and I’m sick of it already.”

I turn my back on him and head to the kitchen, but call over my shoulder, “Don’t make me check your work.”

He yells back at me, but I can tell he’s teasing, “You’re barely older than me, Landyn. Quit trying to be my mom.”

I smile to myself and ignore him. Despite the four to five years that separate us, Rocco isn’t wrong. This is the weirdest family dynamic ever. And being Rocco’s mom is the last thing on earth I want.

What am I even saying...

I was forced to marry a man I didn’t know, but being Rocco’s mom is the last thing I’d want?

That thought is wrong on so many levels. Even so, I can’t wipe the smile from my face.

It’s been a good day.

An orgasm and a promise.

Both from my husband.

When I get to the kitchen, Miranda is scrubbing pots and pans at the sink and June is still complaining because I want to help. “I can’t get over you being in here, Mrs. Torres. I’ve worked here for years and this never would’ve happened under Mr. Marino.”

Thank goodness that’s not the case, but I don’t dare say that out loud. I think it will be ingrained in me forever that I’m being watched.

Instead of celebrating aloud, I mutter, “God rest his soul.”

June crosses herself, and Miranda mutters something in Spanish so quietly, I doubt the cameras are able to pick it up.

I’m rinsing plates in the second sink at the island when long, intricate chimes ring through the house. I flip the water off and turn to the two women, who also stop what they’re doing.

“Are we expecting someone?” I ask.

Miranda’s eyes widen, and June shrugs. “I don’t know. Spencer is off tonight. The guards at the gate always call him when someone is here.”

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