Page 43 of Souls and Sorrows

Two sides of the same fucking coin, and I’m an idiot for thinking this would be a change of pace from Vitus.

Even if Cash isn’t outwardly aggressive, I’ve seen too much to believe he doesn’t have it in him to be.

Hell, I don’t even have any way of confirming whether Cash is actually at his office, or if he’s using that as an excuse to go out and sow the oats an attractive, powerful, young man like him would have.

He said I couldn’t go looking for benefits anywhere else, but I didn’t get the same promise from him. I don’t even have any leverage to wield if Iwantthat reciprocation. Cash has the official upper hand, and he knows it.

Leaning against the wall, I cross one ankle over the other, pointing at my outfit. “You can’t tell? I’m on my way to get railed by a bunch of seedy politicians at the Governor’s Ball.”

“Is that supposed to be a joke?”

“I thought it was funny.”

His sigh bleeds through the line. “You entered this marriage of your free will, you know. You could’ve been paired off to a Tallerico instead with absolutely no freedom or sense of agency. I’m not sure why you’re acting out.”

My mouth drops open, and I scoff, rage bubbling up in my chest and shoving words from my mouth. “I’m not acting out. I’m just…” Taking a deep breath, I push the annoyance down, aware that fighting with him does me no real good. It’s not like he’s the one who got me into this mess. “Look, I just feel a little trapped, is all. I don’t… I don’t do very well in a cage.

“I’m not trying to keep you, Ariana. You know as well as I do that we have an expiration date; I’m just trying to make sure you make it there in one piece.”

He pauses, and I hear the soft clinking of ice against a glass and have a momentary flash of him not being alone. Of him sitting in his cushy office with his warm little assistant, drinking and lamenting over the sham he’s concocted.

Tears prick the backs of my eyes, and I have no idea why. I shouldn’t care, but the idea of him entertaining someone else while not touching me at all is upsetting.

Pressing my lips together, I shake my head, suddenly exhausted. Instead of answering, I pull the phone away and hang up, sliding it into the front of my duffel bag.

A beat later, the elevator chimes, and the doors slide open, granting me passage.

Sliding my hand into my bag, I feel around the main compartment for the other part of what I kept hidden behind the toilet at my nonna’s. Beneath the pointe shoes, cool metal—sheathed inside a leather guard—presses into my palm, and I suppress a little smile.

It’s a shame how little his movers paid attention to the stuff they brought into Cash’s apartment. And a shame for him, thinking he was getting a sweet, innocent little girl to keep at his side while he tries to take over the underworld.

My phone rings, and I’m sure it’s him calling to tell me not to leave. I’ll probably pay for it later, but right now, I don’t really care.

I just want to dance.

13

I’m irritated.

No, that word isn’t quite sufficient to describe the way I’m feeling.

My insides are molten, like the wax from an unattended candle, and spilling all over the place. If I wasn’t tied up in a hearing with Samuel Armas, I’d be across town, tracking my insolent wife down and dragging her back to the apartment by her hair.

Not only did she hang up earlier and then shut her phone off, but she somehow evaded the protection detail I had waiting for her at the entrance of the parking garage.

I don’t know what she thinks is going on here, but I can’t stand by and watch her defy me for absolutely no reason. Perhaps if therewasone, I’d be a bit more lenient, but at this juncture, I feel I’ve treated her with as much respect as our circumstances allow, and the outright disobedience doesn’t sit right with me.

If she’s already having issues behaving, how am I expected to introduce her to my family, or take her to important firm functions, or merge Primrose Realty with leftover Ricci accounts and assets without throwing her over my knee and turning her tight little ass black and blue?

It seemed like such a simple request. I didn’t say she couldn’t leave. I just wanted her to be accompanied by a driver. Primarily so I could keep an eye on her, but also in case Vitus or one of her father’s many enemies were lurking around, waiting to get their hands on her.

I’m not sure how she managed before. I suppose she had men assigned to her and likely was keeping in touch with her sisters, but still. The fact that she was mostly unscathed when I got to her doesn’t necessarily bode well.

Almost as if someone’s been laying low, waiting to seize an opportunity.

Or maybe I’m paranoid. Maybe the rumors are wrong, and people don’t give a shit about Ariana, because the only connection she has to her father’s business is her last name.

Regardless, when Judge Pottifer adjourns for the day after we’ve gone through the scheduled witnesses, I leave Samuel at the courthouse and instruct Zephyr to brief him for when we reconvene in the morning. In truth, I haven’t been putting my usual oomph into the Citium case, because it’s pretty cut and dry—at this point, we’re just riding out the trial since Pottifer rejected our plea deal and waiting to see what the jury decides.

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