EL DIABLO II

by M. Robinson

  “I can throw shit too!”

  In a whirlwind of passion and fury, I spun around the room destroying everything in my path. My resolve broke into a million pieces, mimicking the glass.

  Unleashing the rage.

  The guilt.

  The feelings I had for him.

  I couldn’t keep up with the torment, all of it clamored for space in my mind. It shackled onto me like chains around my feet, dragging me into purgatory with him. I stormed around his office, my bare feet stomping everywhere I went, leaving piles of our bullshit in my wake.

  “Sienna, enough!”

  “No!”

  I despised being told what to do.

  By my father.

  La Famiglia.

  Him.

  The sensible part of my brain was taken hostage by the irrational portion. I allowed my sentiments to be felt by my husband, wanting my voice to be fucking heard. Even if it meant I was coming off as a raging lunatic. He needed to recognize I wasn’t the fragile little girl he foolishly assumed I was. I wouldn’t let him walk all over me and not stick up for myself.

  If he thought I’d jump with his every command, barking orders like I was some pet he could play with or reprimand whenever he wanted, he was in for a rude awakening. Vigilantly watching my every move, he stood there in his dominant stature with a neutral expression I wanted to slap off his face. The more I ruined his office, the further his indifference became. His composure was cold, flawless, not wavering an inch.

  My defiance came in the form of his ability to treat me like nothing I did or spoke truly mattered. Especially in this heated moment, where I couldn’t stop the chaos I was catapulting into. Our lives came crashing down on me, and I added to the mayhem and disorder by permitting my emotions to get the better part of me.

  I tossed files off his desk.

  Heaved art off the walls.

  In one long, hard swoop, I knocked over all the decorations on the mantel, over the fireplace. They hit the hardwood floor beneath my feet, shattering into more debris.

  “What’s it going to take for you to show me something? Anything! This—” I pointed firmly at him “—is why I wanted nothing to do with you! I cannot be in a marriage where my husband hides everything from me. Including what he’s feeling!”

  Four security guards barged into the room like bats out of hell, bringing their intense stares over to me and then him.

  “Sorry, Boss. We thought—”

  “My wife decided to redecorate my office. What would you call this, sweetheart? Resolving marital conflict brought on by PMS?”

  My mouth dropped open and my hand snatched the next thing I saw off his desk.

  “You throw that,” he taunted in a harsh tone. “And I’m done being blamed for all the broken shit in your life. Trust me when I say, Sienna, I’ll make your pretty little ass pay for it. I promise.”

  I jerked back, caught off guard with why this was suddenly important. Out of everything I destroyed in the room, what was I holding?

  Through the corner of my eyes, I caught a glimpse of myself.

  “What the—”

  Looking at what was in my grasp, I was on the brink of tears. Never imagining I’d be seeing…

  A picture of me in my wedding gown.

  Chapter 29

  —Sienna—

  “That’s the only photo I have of you on our wedding day that you don’t look fucking miserable.”

  I was hyperventilating, my chest rose and fell faster and faster. My heart pounded harder and harder. The vein on my neck throbbed, aching against my clammy skin. There was nothing else I could do, nothing else I could say. I was at a loss.

  I felt nothing but fucking lost.

  “What are you doing to me?”

  He nodded toward the guards to leave and they did. Once again, we were alone. Except this time, all our demons were present. Sitting on our shoulders, waiting to divide and conquer.

  Cruz scoffed out a breath, inspecting my handy work from where he was standing. He shook his head, his disappointment searing off of him into my flesh.

  “This—” he gestured around the room “—is the fucking bullshit I come home to, day after day, after day. Do I treat you like this, Sin? Do I disrespect you in your own home? In your place of sanctuary? Do I walk in and shit all over you? No. I don’t. I’m trying to fucking love you, Sienna, but you make it so fucking difficult to be near you. I’m exhausted trying to prove myself to you. I’m not a saint, but you don’t want a goddamn pussy. You want a man. Someone who will put you in your place. Keep your fucking attitude in check because God knows, you have a mouth. You claim to be my wife…then start acting like one.”

  I swallowed hard.

  Love? He loves me?

  “You don’t even know me. Why should I believe you when you say you’re trying to love me? You’re never here. What do you do for me, husband? You didn’t buy this roof over my head. You didn’t purchase one thing for me in this house, our home. It was all given to us, just handed over without asking for it. My clothes, my car, my jewelry. Jesus Christ, even my wedding ring.” I held it up in the air. “You didn’t pick it out for me. It was my mother’s. This isn’t our marriage, Cruz. It’s a carbon copy of a life I never wanted.”

  I was about to admit the toughest truth from my childhood.

  “I don’t want to have my parents’ marriage. They fought all the time. My father was no martyr, he cheated, had women on the side for as long as I could remember. Yes, my mother was the love of his life. She was his angel, but he didn’t respect her. He did what he wanted and expected her to keep her mouth shut for the life he gave her.”

  His eyes glazed over as he carefully listened to every word that escaped my lips. I’d never shared this with anyone, not even Aurora. It was my secret to keep and yet, I couldn’t stop myself from telling Cruz about it. I was ashamed of the marriage my parents had.

  Yes, there was a lot of love. However, there was also a lot of hate. It was the life I lived, it wasn’t all kisses and happiness. It was mostly trauma and scars.

  “I love my father with every bone in my body. He’s always been the best Papà, but he was a shitty fucking husband and it took me a long time to realize the difference between the two.”

  Looking down at the picture, my stare lingered before carrying on. “My mother loved him so much, she gave her life for him, and I’m not talking about her death. I will never allow myself to be that weak, to let love blind me from what I fucking want and deserve. Do you understand now? Is it making sense to you, or do you need me to fucking spell it out for you?”

  “Princesa—”

  “Their marriage was a double standard in every aspect. He had cameras all over the house to watch her every move, though she couldn’t know where he was, who he was with, what time he was coming home. If…he was coming home at all. A huge part of my memories from my childhood are based on his temper and short fuse. I remember one time a man told my mother she was beautiful, and my father ran him off the road and beat him within an inch of his life. He got back in the car and we went to dinner like nothing happened. What the fuck kind of bullshit is that?”

  “Sienna—”

  “Oh! But the most memorable was when he put his hands on her. My mother was tough, it was one of the reasons he chose her as his wife. He knew she could handle the brutality of this world. You think I have a mouth? You have no idea how much of an attitude she had when it came to my father’s infidelities. She set his car on fire once and then ended up dying in another one. The irony, right? Sometimes the only way to shut her up was with a heavy hand. And trust me, my father had one,” I hesitated for a second, gathering my thoughts.

  “I think that’s why he never remarried, he knew he’d never find another woman to put up with his shit like my mother did.”

  He stepped in my direction. “Don’t.” I halted his steps, aware he wanted to comfort me, and I wasn’t ready to accept his sympathy. I didn’t tell him all this for his compa
ssion. If anything, I despised feeling powerless by the history of my life I was openly sharing with him. I figured I didn’t have anything else to lose but everything to gain from this honest conversation.

  “I hated watching them fight. Sometimes I think she maybe wanted to die. It was her only way out of this world. You enter alive, you exit dead, right? Isn’t that how it goes?” I shook my head, trying to shove away one of hundreds of memories I had. Governing the tears about to unleash from my eyes.

  “My father has always been a very selfish man. Except when it came to me. I was his little girl, his pride and joy. He showed me off just as much as he did my mother. We were his whole life. It was a toxic marriage, Cruz. He’s never, ever hurt me, until I walked into his office four months ago and he told me I’d be marrying you. No, not told. Ordered. This was the first time he used me like he did her for his own advantage. I didn’t want to hate him, but God forgive me, I did.”

  I didn’t stop, I couldn’t. I spoke my last truth, “I see so much of him in you and that scares the living shit out of me. I promised myself a long time ago, I wouldn’t be the wife that looked the other way to have the life of luxury at the expense of loyalty and respect from my husband. I won’t give my soul to anyone who doesn’t deserve it, so stop expecting me to.”

  Lifting my chin high, I stood my ground. “You have to earn it. Simply because I’m worth that much.”

  I said it. There was no going back. We were stuck in the present. The only way to go, was moving forward.

  Together.

  Or apart.

  Our stares stayed connected for what felt like an eternity. Him on one side of the room, me on the other. My baggage in between. I wouldn’t take a step in his direction if he wanted to mend the bridge concerning us, then he needed to do it on his own.

  In three long strides, he was standing in front of me as if he read my thoughts. Brushing the hair away from my face, he profoundly gazed into my eyes.

  “First of all, let’s make a few things crystal fucking clear shall we? You have it all wrong, Sin. I wasn’t trying to punish you by having you marry me. I wanted you. I still do. I won’t ever stop wanting you. The night of your graduation party, you were a gift walking into that ballroom. I watched you, and when you finally made your way to me, I knew I needed to have you. Under me, on top of me, in and out of the bedroom.”

  “So it’s about sex?”

  “I’m a man. It’s always about sex. The self-control I’ve had with you these last three months could move fucking mountains. Another reason I choose not to be here. I want your body as much as I want your heart. Your soul. I want that too. I may sound similar to your father in many ways, but I’m also my own person. The marriage my parents have is nothing like what you experienced with yours. The sun rises and sets with my mother. My father worships her, he has since the second he laid eyes on her. All my life I’ve heard about their love, from his mouth and hers. That is how I feel about you, Sienna. From the moment I saw you walk into that room, I was yours.”

  With the back of his fingers, he caressed my cheek.

  “She was his salvation, his safe place, his calm before the fucking storm. The peace and refuge he needed to battle this world. And I knew, I fucking knew…you’d be mine too.”

  In one swift movement, he gripped onto the back of my neck. Before I even realized what was happening, he was kissing away the tears on my face. I didn’t realize I was crying until I stirred beneath his lips, his touch, my body trembling under his firm hold.

  “The mere thought of another man claiming you as his, made me understand how much you meant to me. How much I wanted you. It wasn’t jealousy, it was primal fucking hunger and baby, I’m fucking starving for you.”

  More tears.

  More kisses.

  More. More. More.

  “When it comes to this house, we live here because I wanted you to have what you’re accustomed to. The wedding ring…for fuck’s sake, I thought…I don’t know what the hell I thought. I’ll go buy you a new diamond tomorrow, if that’s what it will take for you to feel like this marriage is our own.”

  “Cruz.” I pulled away. “It’s not about—”

  “I let you talk, now it’s my turn.”

  I glared at him and he grinned in that devious way.

  “I don’t need to cheat on you, Sienna, to feel like more of a man.”

  I bit my lip, trying to believe him.

  “Besides.” He smirked. “Your crazy Italian ass is enough to make me feel like I’m married to several women.”

  I chuckled, biting back a smile.

  “I want to give you what you need and deserve, but you won’t let me, Sin. You’re intent on fighting me over everything. I don’t watch you on the cameras for anything other than my personal enjoyment. I’m watching over you. It makes me feel calm in moments of madness. Your smile, your laugh, your terrible singing...It’s what keeps me going most days.”

  “Where are the cameras?”

  He ignored my question. “I’ll never lay a hand on you. Not in anger. Not in vengeance. Not even with my fucking temper. Your father and I are a lot alike, except, I won’t beat a man within an inch of his life for coming onto you in my presence, Sienna. I’ll put a bullet in between his fucking eyes. You’re mine. Even if I have to kill to prove it to anyone who doesn’t realize you’re my wife. Your last name is your protection and if someone wants to disrespect the sanctity of that, then I’m going to make them meet their fucking maker. Do you understand me and everything I’ve said?”

  His eyes held so much emotion.

  His sincere expression was almost hard to believe.

  “Because, Sin,” he added. “I’d love more than anything to prove to you how much you own every last part of me.”

  Chapter 30

  —Sienna—

  “If you think I’m full of shit, baby, then throw that picture. It won’t matter to me. Tomorrow when you’re cleaning up this room, I’ll make sure it’s sitting back on my desk. Near me. Where it belongs.”

  I thought he was going to kiss me, and I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t disappointed when he grabbed the frame out of my hand and set it back on his desk himself.

  “With all that said, Sienna, the only thing standing in our way is you.”

  “Sir,” one of the guards walked into the room, causing my heart to sink to the floor.

  He’d have to leave me now, and this was the cruel reality of our marriage.

  “Sienna, meet me upstairs in our bedroom.”

  “You’re coming upstairs?”

  “That’s what I said.”

  “You’re not lea—”

  “Now.”

  Reluctantly, I fought against the rebellious approach I was used to with him. Rather than argue, I left. Confused on where things would go from here. On my way toward the stairs, I stopped in the laundry room to grab the first aid kit out of the medicine cabinet. After taking what I needed, I went right up to our bedroom. Stripping off my clothes and stepping into the shower. Desperately needing a few minutes to myself.

  The hot water felt amazing, melting away the stress my body was undertaking. Time must have gotten away from me, minutes turned into an hour before I walked out of there and grabbed a warm towel off the heated rack. I dried off, slipping into my silk nightie and robe. Choosing at the last second to throw my wet hair in a messy bun high on my head.

  When I strode into the space, Cruz was passed out cold on the bed. I was stunned he was in our room, let alone sleeping in what was supposed to be our matrimonial bed. I stood there amused seeing him lying on my side of the mattress nonetheless.

  This was another first for us tonight.

  Smirking like a fool, I knew he did that on purpose. Probably thinking I’d wake him and who knows what would stem from it.

  “Cruz,” I softly murmured, standing by the bed with the first aid kit in my grasp.

  “Mmm…”

  “I have to check your wound.”

&nb
sp; He sleepily groaned, “I’m fine.”

  “Your slacks are bleeding.”

  “A little blood never hurt anyone, but you might end up being the death of me.”

  “Cruz, I’m serious. Either you get up, or the alcohol and peroxide I’m about to pour on it will do it for you.”

  With his eyes still closed, he grinned. “Are you going to undress me?”

  “Do you need me to?”

  “Mmm hmm, I’m an injured man after all.”

  “I thought a little blood never hurt anyone.”

  “Oh, so you are listening when I talk. Here I thought it went in one ear and out of the other.”

  “Oh no, for sure, it does.”

  He chuckled, unbuckling his belt and slacks. “I’m so weak, Sienna. I think you’re going to have to take over and pull them off for me.”

  “Do you honestly think this is going to work?”

  Opening his gaze, there was only mischief behind his stare. “Have you ever held a gun, Sienna?”

  I raised an eyebrow, curious about where he was going with this. Our banter was usually all over the place, and I was beginning to lust over all sides of this man.

  The good.

  The bad.

  The dangerous.

  They were all attractive qualities.

  “If you haven’t,” he coaxed, fully aware I hadn’t. “Then my cock would be a good place to start, considering their both fucking loaded and over nine inches long.”

  My eyes widened.

  “I assure you there’s nothing to be afraid of.”

  “How did we go from cleaning your wound, to holding your dick?”

  “Say dick again. Except this time open your robe, so I can see what’s wrapped up in there.”

  “Listen, dick, I know all about you waving your gun around.”

  “Then you know how I always make sure to hit the right target. It’s not an easy thing to do, but I’m skilled enough to find the spot that’ll make you beg for mercy.”

  “I don’t know what’s worse, not being sure if you’re still talking about one thing or the other.”