Page 55 of The Bloke

Not just him but me. Could I kill someone? Could I have stabbed that man in the alley at Fallout if I had the chance? I knew there had been times when I imagined holding the knife instead of him. Was it that simple?

“Most likely… I don’t know all the details, but tonight, the Men Under Revue are hosting a Gala, and we are required to attend. There will be other wives there who have completed their tests and can help to prepare you for yours.”

I lay there in silence, unable to formulate the words to describe my current emotional state. My eyes drifted to the ceiling as I rolled onto my back in thought.

His fingers gripped my chin, pulling me to face him. Colby’s eyes softened as he stared into mine, and in that moment, I knew just how fucked up this entire situation was, but I couldn’t bring myself to pull away from him, no matter how hard I tried. Not like before.

“Say something, love…” His voice trembled. Was he nervous? Scared of my reaction?

“Whatever you need me to do,” I whispered, almost feeling numb from the bombshell he had just dropped on me right before work—I was going to have to kill someone.

Colby released a held breath before his lips came crashing onto mine, and I allowed him full access, tasting his sweet kiss on my tongue.

This is what a husband and wife do, right?

They accept one another for their flaws, nurture their strengths, and, I guess, in our fucked up situation, commit murder, too.

Chapter 23

Colby

When I returned homeafter meeting Nick and Jaxon yesterday, I set two boxes on the dresser. They were still sitting there now, unopened and untouched. Both boxes were an elegant matte black, with white satin bows holding them together. Sienna hadn’t even mentioned the boxes since they showed up, not even out of curiosity.

I picked up the largest of the two and set it on the bed while my wife showered after a long day at her studio.

My anxiety was running high in anticipation for tonight and how she would react to everything the night entailed—starting with her gifts.

“Colby, I can’t find a—” She paused after exiting the bathroom, a towel wrapped around her body and her hair dripping wetfrom the shower. “Hair dryer... What is that?” She pointed at the box I had just set down as she approached the bed.

“You needed a dress for this evening, and I knew you wouldn’t have time to go out and find one yourself, so I went shopping for you.” I smiled warmly, placing her hand on the satin ribbon. “Go on, open it, love.”

Her eyes beamed as she took in the box, glancing back up at me hesitantly before pulling at the ribbon, letting it fall away before propping the lid open. Inside, wrapped delicately in a deep red tissue paper, was her dress.

Reaching in, she pulled out the floor-length black satin dress, holding it up by the twin-thin straps. The bodice had a deep plunge neckline that stopped about two inches before the top of the skirt, with soft boning to shape and a corset-style laced back. The bottom half of the dress was fitted with a slit that started roughly three inches below the seam where the top and bottom halves of the dress met.

I couldn’t wait to see her in it. When I walked into the store that morning and saw it on display, I knew it was made for her, just as she was made for me.

Sienna stared at the dress silently, taking in every silky inch of it.

“Colby, I can’t—”

“Of course you can.” I didn’t let her finish what she was about to say as I cupped her cheeks in my hands and stared deeply into her eyes. “You are my wife, and I will give you everything.” I had said it before, and I would continue to say it until the day I died. She was it for me, and I would spoil her—and not just with pretty little things, either.

Before she could say anything more, I opened the second, much smaller box and pulled out a white gold chain necklace with an obsidian heart pendant—my heart.

The glow that emanated from her eyes as she took in the necklace was otherworldly, like a child opening their favorite gift on Christmas morning.

I wanted this woman to bear my children when she was ready.

I wanted everything with her, a life I never thought I needed.

She was changing everything about who I used to be, and I was becoming a better man for it.

“Turn around, love.” I softly ordered, and she complied, pulling her wet hair aside and up, exposing her neck to me so I could secure the chain around it.

Once I had the clasp in place, I released the necklace, and she dropped her hair, turning back to face me as she admired the rough-cut stone that lay just shy of her breastbone.

She stared longingly at the heart pendant before gazing up at me, stormy eyes searching mine. From her apartment and how she rolled her eyes at the penthouse from day one, I could tell that she never lived a life of luxury.

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