by Bella J.
“I don’t treat women like dirt. Only Moretti girls.”
“What is the matter with you?” She twisted her elbow in my grasp. “Clearly, you hate my family.”
I scoffed. “How fucking observant of you.”
“Why? Why do you hate us so much?” She grabbed the stair railing and dug her heels into the floor. “Stop, for God’s sake.”
I turned and faced her, pulling her close, rigid with fury and hungry for destruction. “Your father is a fucking menace,” I hissed. “You think getting blood on his hands and running some illegal racketeering syndicate is the worst of his crimes? Think again.” I jerked her closer and stared down at her standing on the step below me. “Your father, your grandfather, they built the Moretti empire off the perversions of sick fuckers like themselves. And now that their sins are about to surface for the entire goddamn world to see, they suddenly need some friends to help them hide it, hence why you and I,” I gestured between us, “are now forced to play house.”
Her eyes grew wide, the distinct mark on her one iris a darker hue of hazel than it was a few seconds ago. “What are you talking about?”
“Oh, that’s right,” I taunted, and leaned down, my face inches from hers. “You have no clue.”
“About. What?”
The lines on her face told the story of a girl kept in the dark and far away from her family’s sordid secrets. A daughter who had been blindfolded all her life and never saw the sins of her father.
I grazed my teeth across my bottom lip as I regarded her, staring into her mismatched eyes and inhaling her scent once again. Only this time, it didn’t smell as vile as it did earlier.
“Not yet,” I murmured, now more amused than I was angry.
“What do you mean, not yet?”
I lifted a hand and brushed a single fingertip down the side of her face. “I’ll tell you who and what your father really is, but I think I’ll wait for you to fuck up real bad first, because believe me, this revelation will be the worst kind of punishment for you.” I took her chin between my fingers, the make-up she wore doing a poor job at hiding the bruise this up close. She sucked in a breath. “And it’s going to be amusing as fuck to watch you squirm while your mind wanders to the darkest corners trying to figure out what exactly it is your father has been hiding from you all these years.”
Her jaw clenched, and she pulled away, abhorrence clouding her already paled expression. It was easy to spot the vulnerability that lay just beneath the surface of the wall of strength she was desperate to keep from crumbling.
She yanked her arm free, but only because I allowed it. “I’m going to bed.”
I glanced to the side as she brushed past me, leaving behind the smell of mandarin and vanilla. There was something about her that slithered under my skin, something that had me on edge, knocking at my skull with warning. I wasn’t sure what it was. All I knew was that I didn’t like it. At all.
I knew the moment my father said her name in the same sentence as marriage she’d be trouble. Even as I watched her walk down the aisle in that exquisite dress, her face hidden behind a veil of virtue, there was a feeling of foreboding which churned in my chest. A warning that this woman would be an affliction within our family and would destroy us from the inside.
I had to make sure that that never fucking happened.
Chapter Six
I slammed the door closed and fell back against it, taking one deep breath at a time and trying my best to choke back the tears. My heart raced, but it wasn’t fear. It wasn’t anger. It was pure, undiluted sorrow. Grief. The realization that this was my life now. Day one of my marriage, and already it felt like I was slowly dying, withering away until eventually the day would come when there would be nothing left but an empty shell. I saw the hate in his eyes, the blackness of how he despised me. It was malignant. Toxic. Deadly.
I reached down to lock the door only to realize there was no key. It didn’t surprise me. Gian clearly had control issues, so he’d never allow someone the means to lock him out—literally.
I staggered across the room with unsteady feet, climbed on the bed, and clutched the pillow, burying my face within the silk sheet. How was I supposed to survive this? How was I supposed to survive Gian Silvestro when I had no idea who he was? All I knew was the cruelty I saw in his eyes whenever he looked at me like he would deem an insect worthier than me. And it was all because of some feud he had with my family, with my father. Something I had no part of. But it didn’t matter to him. All that mattered was the fact that Moretti blood flowed through my veins, and that alone condemned me to feel the sharp edge of his hatred.
I sat up and pulled the shoes from my feet as if they weighed a ton and tossed them on the floor. Exhaustion had claimed every bone in my body, every muscle. It was a grueling hour through which I had to suffer dinner with that man, and I just about used up every ounce of strength I had in me.
If there was any part of this day I’d see as a blessing, it would be the fifteen minutes I had to consume three martinis before my husband decided to grace me with his presence for dinner. I needed the liquid courage to get through the last part of the day which had proven to be the worst day of my life. So far.
I stood and slipped off the dress before climbing into bed and covered myself with the sheets. One would argue it was reckless of me sleeping naked while the Devil prowled the halls, but I was too exhausted to care. The curtains were still open, and I preferred it that way. It was a crescent moon, the night-sky beautiful with no cloud in sight. My heart ached, but not because of Gian or the animosity he didn’t even bother to hide. But because my parents were fully aware of the extent of my unhappiness, I knew they would not lift a finger to help or change anything. I wondered if they knew about Gian’s hate for our family and if they knew he would dislike me with such intensity. Knowing my father, he probably did. He was an observant man, a brilliant businessman with a knack for reading people like their faces were the morning paper. That made it even worse, thinking my father chose Gian knowing how the man felt about us.
God. If I had any hope of getting through this, or at least trying to live something that resembled a life, I’d have to steel myself and make sure I had the strength I needed to survive. There was no one else I could rely on to get me through this but myself. I had to show Gian that even though I was a born Moretti, a weakling in his eyes, I would not crack. I would not fall in front of him again. Ever. Gian might think he knew my father, claiming my family had this sinister side I was not aware of, but he didn’t know me. He didn’t know that along with the Moretti blood pumping in my veins I had the strongest reason in the world to make sure I would not break.
My sister. Alessa.
If enduring a lifetime of days like this meant my sister could have a normal life without such a burden, then it was a sacrifice I’d make over and over again.
There was a sound of a car pulling up the cobbled driveway, and I climbed off the bed, hesitantly walking toward the window, making sure I was hidden within behind the thick curtain. A black SUV parked out front, and Gian walked toward it as the driver got out. They spoke briefly before the driver opened the passenger side door, and I inched closer, placing my hands on the curtain, wanting to get a better look.
A slim figure immerged from the back seat. A woman dressed in a long, flowing, white sleeveless dress, her dark curls draping down her back. It was hard to see so far down amid the midnight sky, but when Gian leaned in and kissed this woman on the cheek, that was when my stomach turned with a sickening twist inside my gut. Who was this woman Gian ushered into the house like she was royalty?
I slipped back, moving away from the window as my mind churned with a thousand questions about the mysterious midnight woman. Of course, Gian would break his wedding vows on the very night he wed. As a matter of fact, I wouldn’t be surprised if it were so. That this woman was a lover he didn’t have the freedom to be with because his duty was to marry me. But it still didn’t dampen the embarrassment
, the betrayal that burned like acid in the deepest pit of my stomach. Just when I thought this day couldn’t get any worse, it ended with a scene that came as a slap in my face.
I sat down on the king-sized bed. There was nothing but open space on top of the silk sheets, yet I struggled to breathe within the confines of all the uncertainty that surrounded my life and the future I had no control over. Or maybe…maybe there was a way for me to somehow regain just a sliver of power, but I wasn’t going to figure it out tonight. Tomorrow.
Maybe.
I heard the click of her heels and instantly cursed because all I wanted was to drink my first cup of coffee of the day in fucking peace and without looking into the eyes of the wife I despised—eyes that, quite frankly, captivated me with their unique appearance. At least there was one thing I found alluring about Daniela, even if it was something she considered a flaw.
“Good morning.” Her voice sounded light, yet confident.
“Good morning.” I didn’t turn to face her. “You’re up early. I thought you’d sleep in.”
“I went straight to bed after dinner, so I’m well-rested.” I heard the clink of a coffee cup and saucer. “And you? Did you have an early night?”
“I did.” I turned to face her. “Quite unusual, isn’t it? A newlywed couple, well-rested after their wedding night.”
“Unusual,” she reiterated and lifted a brow, “for the lack of a better word.”
I kept my gaze on her and took a sip of my coffee, savoring the bitter and bold aroma of the dark roast. The slim, sleeveless, floral-print dress accentuated her youth, something her wedding gown and the emerald dress she wore last night failed to do. Scorching, fiery red curls flowed over her shoulders, her skin a flawless ivory, and lips a blush-pink. I was inclined to agree with my brother. At least my chosen wife had an admirable beauty. Or as he put it, a pretty face.
I swallowed the last bit of coffee and placed my cup down on the table with every intention of walking out without saying another word, but as I strode past her, I paused and glanced her way. “We’ll have to talk about what’s expected of you.”
“I have a pretty good idea. It was all there in the vows we took before God, to love and cherish until death do us part. Although,” she shrugged, “we might have a slight problem when it comes to the love and cherish part since you can’t even stay in the same room with me for five minutes.”
“I know how to keep up appearances when need be.”
She shook her head lightly. “Your hate for me is too strong. You won’t be able to hide your dislike for me when surrounded by five, ten, or a hundred guests. You could hardly keep a straight face during the time it took us to walk out of the church.”
“I know what’s expected of me.”
“As do I,” she replied, her expression unreadable, “so it’s not something we need to discuss. When we have guests and public appearances, I will act the part of your doting new wife. When it comes to our families, we will give them what they want and let them see what they want to see. A successful marriage. But your suffocating hatred of me can and will remain behind closed doors. Hate me all you want, Gian, but allow me to be clear…the feeling is mutual.”
She grabbed a bottle of water from the breakfast table and sashayed across the dining room and out on the deck. With my sleeves rolled up to my elbows, I placed my hands in my pockets and watched her walk out. Seemed like I might have underestimated the Moretti girl, and mistakenly assumed she’d be the same spineless creature her father was. But there was something different about her. Fight. Strength. Defiance—something she had shown me plenty of in the last twenty-four hours. It made me wonder why she’d agree to this marriage, since it was clear she loathed the idea as much as I did.
“Daniela,” I called after her. “What was it?”
She stopped, her back still turned toward me.
“What was it that tipped the scale for you?” I stalked closer. “Because it’s become clear that you’re not the kind of woman who does what you’re told without question. So why go through with it?”
“Same as you. Duty.”
“Bullshit.”
Finally, she turned to face me.
I narrowed my eyes as a newfound need to dissect her thoughts gnawed at my bones. “What did your father threaten you with?”
Anger flashed in her eyes, her cheeks going from a blush pink to a flush of fury. It enticed me, watching her fight to keep her composure, and tempted me to see how far I could push her before she flipped the switch.
I stepped right up to her, leaving just a breath between us. If her mismatched eyes were daggers, I’d be bleeding from the head down right now. “Tell me, Daniela.” I lowered my voice. “What is your father using to make you bend to his will?” I reached up, wanting to touch her cheek with the back of my hand, but she lifted her arm and blocked my attempt.
“Don’t touch me.”
Her warning did nothing but tempt me. A fucking invitation to show her that her fight was no match for my rule. I let my hand hover next to her face, her eyes screaming with challenge—a challenge I found myself wanting to accept. “There’s more to you than just the Moretti name, isn’t there?”
“Wow, it took you a full day to figure that out.”
“Be careful with that smart mouth of yours.”
She lifted herself, trying to level me with her pointed stare. “You don’t intimidate me, Gian.”
“Liar.”
She swallowed, my gaze lured down to her throat by the movement. It was such a vulnerable part of the body, the throat. Weak under pressure, yet strong with allure—a wicked combination when possessed with the compulsion of temptation.
“I want to know what it is.” I looked her in the eye. “What it is that made you marry me willingly.”
She lifted her chin, the sunlight catching her eyes just right, accentuating the forest hues in her irises, the interwoven shade of brown in her one eye hiding an absolute chaos of rebellion which she tried to mask as duty. “It doesn’t matter why I walked down that aisle. The only thing that matters is the fact that I did.”
I smiled. “And by doing so, you helped daddy-dearest to evade the justice he deserves once again.”
Her jaw clenched, her flushed cheeks enticing the fuck out of me. “I won’t stand here and listen to you villainize my father.”
“I’m starting to think I don’t have to.” She turned to walk away from me, but I wasn’t done and grabbed her elbow. “Something tells me you’re well-aware that your father is no saint.”
Her gaze drifted from where my fingers bit into her arm until her glare settled on me. “And I suppose you are?”
She jerked free and stomped off in the other direction, our conversation ending abruptly.
I watched her walk away from me, and while palpable animosity clung to the air, a smile tugged at my lips, admiring those legs which teased from under the floral dress that fit her body perfectly. My cock twitched through the abhorrence I felt toward the Moretti blood in her veins. I was such a wicked bastard.
Chapter Seven
I slipped around the corner and immediately steadied myself against the wall. It was only a matter of seconds before I crumbled in front of him while he stared at me with those amber eyes which searched for my every secret. He towered over me, instantly turning up the summer heat just by being so damn close. I’d be lying if I said he didn’t intimidate me. With every step that man took, he left footprints of complete dominion, the air around him burning with the authority he exuded. But I’d be damned if I showed just an ounce of how he unnerved me. Plus, it seemed my new husband was a liar too, lying about having an early night when I saw his late-night visitor walk into this house with her high heels. I hated that it bugged me, that I had this pressing need to know who she was, but more importantly who she was to my husband.
A husband you loathe.
A husband you hardly know.
This morning I woke up with a renewed determination to show G
ian that I wasn’t just a fragile princess who would be bent and molded to his will. For years I had the backbone to stand up against my father, and the talent to not keep my mouth shut whenever I had something to say…until he played the one card I couldn’t trump. Alessa.
Well, Gian didn’t have that advantage, and I didn’t care who he was. I would not allow him to suppress me. In the public eye and in front of family, I’d play my part, but I’d bring it like a fucking house on fire within these walls.
For what felt like hours I strolled around the garden of the estate. For such a lavish and luxurious home adorned with wealth, the garden was underwhelming. Apart from the alder trees, the manicured lawn, and a few scattered rose bushes, there was nothing breathtaking about the garden. It was such a shame. A garden was the oxygen of every home, the one place you could go to whenever the confines of four walls threatened to suffocate you. It should be an escape, a paradise you created for you and your family to be surrounded by nature, color, and life.
Since I wasn’t leaving this place for the foreseeable future, I made a mental note to do something about the lackluster garden.
I stepped onto the deck, and Gabriela came walking out and placed a tray of freshly cut fruit on a table next to the pool. “Good morning, Mrs. Silvestro.”
“Good morning, Gabriela. And please, call me Daniela.” I smiled.
“Oh, no. I couldn’t.” She met my smile and placed her palms together. “If you would like to take a swim, there is a selection of swimsuits in the pool house.”
“Thank you.” She nodded, but as she turned, I called out, “Gabriela, do you know where Mr. Silvestro is?”
“He’s in his office.”
I nodded in thanks, and she walked back into the house. I glanced at the pool, the reflective water shimmering as the sun beamed down on it, the crystal-clear liquid inviting me with the promise of lessening the grueling summer heat. Since I had nothing better to do, I might as well enjoy the luxuries this estate had to offer—the large pool being one of them.