Page 23 of Ruthless Reign

“You should come. Bring Bear along…or not,” she said with a wink.

“I’m not sure that’s my scene,” I said, trying not to sound snotty and prudish.

“Have you ever been to a dungeon before?” Ru asked.

“Well, no. But I also don’t like the thought of anyone else watching me while I…do that,” I explained.

“You don’t have to do anything,” Alba explained. “And if you decide you do, there are private rooms where you can sneak away.”

I tried to imagine Roman and me going to her club and what we might see. Undoubtedly, we would encounter things I’d never considered, which might lead to other things I needed to confront but hadn’t yet dared to face. The memory of him masturbating in the shower came back to me: how beautiful he’d looked, how hard I’d come watching him watching me, how much I wanted to do it again. I’d gone out of my way to avoid bringing it up since, but that wasn’t to say I’d forgotten about it. My cheeks burned a scalding flame that echoed into my ears and down my chest.

“I’ll talk to my husband about it,” I said, taking another drink of beer to quench how suddenly dry my throat had become.

We ate the rest of our dinner in amicable conversation, and I realized I liked these women. They were strong and smart and exactly like Roman had said—not at all damsels. They tried to make me feel included, though that was hard considering our vastly different backgrounds. They were salt of the earth, andI had been raised with a silver spoon. Still, I’d entered this arrangement of my own free will, so I might as well make the best of it.

After the pizza, we went to Alba’s living room to watch an old movie, something about a vampire who fell in love with an average high school girl for a completely unrealistic reason. I’d heard of the cult classic, of course, but never had the opportunity to watch it with any seriousness. Neither, it seemed, did these women. They laughed and joked and made fun of the characters the entire time.

A few hours later, after I drank another two beers, I went outside with Verona while she had a cigarette. I didn’t smoke, but she’d invited me and I could use the fresh air.

She sat on the porch swing and patted the spot next to her, which I took with a grateful smile.

“Thank you for insisting I come,” I said. “I’m enjoying myself.”

“Shocking, right?” Verona laughed, reassuring me she’d meant it sincerely and not as ridicule. “When I first came home from college, I thought I’d rather be anywhere else than stuck with these three all night. But they’re not so bad.”

I appreciated her candor.

“But seriously,” she said. “How’s it going with Bear?”

Sighing, I ran a hand over my forehead and debated what to say. I didn’t want to tell her the truth, seeing as it was her brother, but I also didn’t have anyone else to confide in. Three IPAs into the night had lowered my inhibitions and raised my ability to trust her, at least enough to spill my guts.

“It’s tolerable,” I said.

“Tolerable?” She whistled incredulously. “Well, that’s what good marriages are made of.”

“We barely talk, and when we do, it almost always leads to a fight. We’ve been living together for two weeks, and I feel likethe divide between us now is greater than when we signed that contract.”

“Hmm,” Verona said with a nod, taking a long drag on the cigarette.

“We’re supposed to be partners, to have an alliance in every sense of the word, but I…” I trailed off because I wasn’t sure how much I should tell her, how much she’d want to hear.

“Go on,” she said.

“I’m not supposed to want him,” I admitted. “I’m not supposed to like any of you. Yet here I am, drinking with the enemy.”

Verona gave me a small smile and nudged me with her shoulder. “I admire you, ya know.”

That got my attention, and I sipped beer to hide my embarrassment at her admission.

“I’m not sure I’d be able to do it…if roles were reversed. If Bear had asked me to marry Leo?” She blew out a breath. “That’s a tough spot to be in. On one hand, I want the war to end. On the other, I’ve wanted to claw Leo’s eyes out for a long time.”

I grinned. “He has that effect on people.”

“So does my brother.” Verona let out a deep sigh. “My mother died when I was nine. She was in a car with Selene’s parents. It was your father that blew them up.”

I held my breath, unsure of what to say in response. I knew about this, of course, but it had happened so long ago I barely remembered it. Giuseppe Caputi, my father, had later died in his sleep from an apoplexy, or so we thought.

“After that, my father never really recovered. He loved her and her death…” Verona shook her head and wiped at a cheek, perhaps brushing away a tear before I could see it. “Bear took over in a lot of ways. He got me and my brothers up for school and made sure we did our homework. He cooked dinner for us every night and packed our lunches. The boy was fourteengoing on forty, and he never once complained about any of it.” Verona met my gaze then, hers sympathetic and seemingly gentle despite sitting next to the daughter of her mother’s killer. “And when Dad fell on hard times, Bear started working at the garage to pay our water bill and put food on the table. He had his own shit going on and he put it all aside so we didn’t go without.”

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