Page 70 of The Red Queen

Why could she see the truth so clearly now when she couldn’t see it with Nico? The cartel boss had thoroughly programmed her into accepting the brutal life he offered, convincing her it was the only one she deserved. She allowed him to treat her like trash, believing all his lies and developing her own twisted logic to explain his actions.

Now, with Giovanni, her feelings were hurt, feelings she hadn’t thought herself capable of, and she was willing to burn the world down in revenge. It made little sense. She couldn’t explain it, and the more she tried to understand, the more her thoughts scattered further out of her grasp. What she knew was that he hurt her, and she hated him for it.

No… she didn’t hate him. She despised what he did.

“Feelings are bullshit,” she snapped at her image before whirling away and striding into the bedroom.

On the bed, she laid out an outfit of loose-fitting red trousers and a black short-sleeved shirt. The sleeves had small puffs at the shoulder and the neckline was edged with black lace. She accessorized with a gold-chained necklace that sat at the base of her throat and a pair of caramel colour knee-length low-heeled boots, perfect for walking through the vineyard.

Before changing, she went back into the washroom where she re-bandaged her wounds and dabbed some antibiotic ointment on her lip. She repacked the first aid kit and shoved it under the sink.

She dressed quickly and made her way downstairs, nodding at Vitto as he joined her from his place in the hallway. Lucky for him, he remained silent, saving himself from the sharp edge of her tongue. She wasn’t in the mood for idle chitchat this morning.

“You’re late.” Giovanni stood as she approached him, stepping through the French doors onto the patio.

Technically, she was less than five minutes late, but she’d bet one of their future babies he’d had his eye on the time.

Depression shrouded Desi like a cloak as she sat in the chair that he pulled out for her. Yesterday morning, everything had been perfect. She’d been nervous but determined to marry the man she’d come to admire, to care about. Now, things were strained between them, creating an atmosphere of distrust. She hated it, knew she was partially responsible, but didn’t know how to fix it.

Great, one day of marriage and navigating their new relationship status was already a confusing, annoying chore.

“I had to re-bandage my wounds,” she said stiffly as Giovanni pushed her chair in, leaning over to press his face to the side of her head, inhaling the fragrance of her hair.

She shivered as the bristles on his chin scraped her cheek. It was tempting to turn her head a fraction, to give in to the desire to kiss him. One soft kiss and maybe she could repair some of the damage between them.

She didn’t move, and he straightened, then dropped into his own chair, his sharp gaze on her face.

“You look tired,bella.” His voice was soft.

She gritted her teeth and narrowed her eyes at him. “You hurt me last night, Giovanni. Of course I didn’t sleep well.”

“I didn’t intend to hurt you on your wedding night, Desi,” he admitted. “I apologized last night, and I will apologize again this morning.”

“Apologies are just words,” she hissed angrily. “Don’t do it again.”

His gaze hardened, but he was casual and precise as he fixed a cup of coffee for each of them, setting Desi’s in front of her. “I can’t promise it won’t happen again. You are both beautiful and infuriating. I have no doubt you will piss me off again in the future, and fucking you is better than beating you.”

She laughed coldly before sobering to stare at him. “You have no control. It amazes me that you’ve managed to develop an organization of the size I have seen when you can’t manage the inner workings of your own home.”

He shook his head. “Stop trying to annoy me, Desi. I’m not about to throw you down on this table and fuck you into submission.” His lips twitched in humour. “I’m hungry for food this morning after our antics last night.”

“You disgust me,” she snarled, picking up her coffee and taking an angry sip. She added two more spoonful’s of sugar.

“And you delight me,” he said easily, leaning back in his chair and draping an arm over the back. “Let’s eat in peace.”

She glared at him. “I refuse to give you a single moment of peace until you let me go.”

His answer was immediate and emphatic. His fist slammed down onto the table, and he snarled the single word, “No.”

They stared at each other, the tension swirling between them threatening to explode into an inferno that would destroy everything it touched.

She hadn’t meant to say the words, but once they were out, she realized they were true. The source of her hurt crystalized within her and she knew, without a doubt, that she was right. Right to be angry, right to want more for herself. Maybe she cared about Giovanni, but she didn’t have to accept a lifetime of captivity, of being at the mercy of his decisions.

Of all the things he’d given her over the past weeks, ultimate freedom wasn’t one of them. In fact, he’d promised her the opposite. He’d told her repeatedly that she belonged to him, that she would stay with him. Now she knew she must stay to bear his children.

When she thought she was being forced to stay with him because he wanted her for her, she’d accepted her new life, was even learning to enjoy it. Now that she knew he wanted her for the eggs nestled deep in her reproductive system, she wasn’t willing to settle happily into the life he was forcing on her. Maybe after a life spent in murder and mayhem, she didn’t deserve better, but she was certainly going to fight for it.

“Fine,” she said, ice dripping from the word as she prepared to throw down the gauntlet. “Unless you let me go or provide me with birth control until I choose otherwise, I will do my best to make your life hell and turn your home into a war zone.”

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