Page 72 of The Red Queen

She didn’t care. She could take a hit from a man skilled in combat and fight back with equal measure.

“If you wanted a sex slave, then you should have bought one!” she shouted, snatching up a lamp from her bedside table. She yanked it until the plug flew from the wall. “No matter what you say to me, or how you treat me, I will never be your slave!”

She flung the lamp at him, but it missed. She was sobbing now, the pain of her past and her present colliding in a storm of confused emotions. The lamp landed on the carpet and rolled harmlessly away.

“Desi, stop.” His voice was quiet, calmer, and he’d opened his fist, dropping his hand to his side.

“No!” she screamed at him, tears blinding her. “I won’t stop. I will never stop. You brought me here, now you can deal with the consequences.”

“Desi,” he tried again.

“I’ll destroy this house and everything in it until you either kill me or let me go.”

She flew at him, her fists raised, but he was ready for her this time.

He grabbed her wrists, flung her around so her back was to his chest and dropped onto the bed, his body crushing hers into the mattress. She fought his hold, struggled to turn over so she could regain the advantage, but she was pinned.

“I’ve never been able to control my own life!” she shouted. “I want that. I want what other women have. I want… I want…” she broke down crying. Eventually, she stopped struggling and buried her head in the bedding, letting the tears have free rein. After what seemed like ages, the tears dried up and she turned her head to the side to gasp for air.

Giovanni still lay on top of her, but he released her hands. He pulled the long strands of ebony hair from her wet face, smoothing them back on her head. She realized he was speaking to her, soft, soothing words in Italian. She didn’t know the language well, but she was learning. He was telling her that she was beautiful, even when she was angry. That he understood her frustration, that he would help her get through this period of confusion. That she needed to trust him.

“I don’t trust anyone,” she said with a watery sigh.

He kissed the shell of her ear. “You will,bella.”

She pushed her shoulder up and he took the hint, giving her enough space to roll over and face him.

“I don’t know how.”

“I can teach you.” He sealed his promise with a kiss, lingering over her lips, despite her tears and runny nose. “But you have to trust me.”

She laughed, the sound brittle, and relaxed into the bed. “How can I learn how to trust if I don’t have the trust I need in order to learn?”

He smiled gently down at her. “You will learn.”

She laughed again. “You’re talking in circles.”

His gaze grew serious, though his hands were still gentle where they framed her head. “Why did you go behind my back, Desi?”

It took her a moment to remember the pills. “Would you have let me get them if I’d talked to you about it?”

“No.” His answer was swift and uncompromising.

Despair pushed at her, giving heat to her anger, though she tried to push it down.

He saw it though and shook his head at her. “You have to stop trying to solve your problems with violence,bella.”

“Violence is all I have, Gio,” she snapped, glaring up at him. “You’ve taken my choices from me, but violence is something I can wield in even the most desperate of circumstances.”

He sighed heavily. “These are not desperate circumstances. You live in a mansion surrounded by vineyards. You’re protected and cherished. You aren’t happy because you don’t know how to be and now you’re creating a problem so you can fight with me because you don’t know how to have a life without fighting.”

Desi wanted to deny his words, to strike out at him and force him to take them back, but she knew it was pointless. He would subdue her again, then he might restrict her even further, and that was something she didn’t want. So, she was forced to think about what he said to her, and she had to admit, he wasn’t entirely wrong.

“Perhaps I don’t know how to be happy,” she said bitterly. “But you don’t know how to give up control. Areyouhappy? Are you pleased to have a wife who is more captive than partner? Imagine the glory we could reach if you allowed me a place next to you.”

His eyes clouded and she could see him struggling with what she’d said to him. Finally, he sat up, pushing away from her. She felt the loss but used the space he was giving her to sit up and move away from him. She sat with her back to the headboard and watched him.

“We need time,” he admitted. “Time to learn how to be happy together.”

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