Page 4 of Ruthless Reign

I loved my family. I was proud to be a Caputi. But when I learned my father had been responsible for Vittori’s death, I started plotting a way out. Hugo and I nearly made it. I’d almost gotten free. But Gabriella caught up to us, and after that…well…I’d been willing to make a deal with the devil to topple her from the throne. For years I had pondered these things, and as I drove to my new husband’s house with whatever I could salvage from my old life, I still didn’t know the solution. I prayed I’d made the right call.

I had lived in mansions for most of my thirty-one years. Between expansive townhomes in the heart of DC and the enormous sprawling houses in Potomac, my family had spared no expense raising my brothers and me in the lap of luxury. My wardrobe alone could have funded a small nation’s economy for a decade.

But now Gabriella controlled my estate, and I’d been cut off from everything. My closest cousins, Della and Chesco, had managed to smuggle a few sentimental items—my arsenal of guns and some family photos—but that was it. Anything I brought with me had been recently purchased with my own secret funds, something not even Leo knew about.

This new arrangement came with the harsh smack of reality when my driver pulled up in front of Roman’s two-story cabin almost a month after we signed the contract. There had been legal issues to sort out and trusts to be formed, etc. Now that it was all finalized, I took a deep breath and steeled myself against my new life.

Roman hadn’t lied. The residence was in the mountains, surrounded by enough woods to ensure our privacy, complete with a massive wraparound porch on both levels and a bench swing next to the front door.

Compared to the opulence I’d grown up with, this reeked of rustic poverty. I silently regretted agreeing to live here in thecontract and wished I had fought harder to make him purchase something more opulent. Of course, if I didn’t have the money for that, why did I believe he would?

“Are you sure this is the right address?” my driver, Williams, asked.

Roman walked out the front door wearing jeans and a white T-shirt, one hand in his pocket and a cup of coffee in the other. I sighed.

“This is the one.” I swallowed against a dry throat as Williams put the car into park and opened the driver’s door. But Roman was already walking toward the vehicle, and when they met at the back door, Roman clapped Williams on the shoulder and opened the door for me. He held his hand out, as if he meant to help me.

I ignored it and climbed out on unsteady heels, gripping my purse to my person like he might snatch it away from me.

“Your movers already came and left,” Roman said. “Your room is mostly unpacked.”

Mostly.They wouldn’t have touched my personal effects or my weapons. No, those were specifically for me to unload alone…once myhusbandhad gone to bed.

“Thank you, Williams,” I said to my driver, giving him a pleasant nod and a smile. “That will be all for now.”

“Take care, miss,” he said before circling the vehicle again to the driver’s seat, leaving me alone with my husband. I followed Roman up the wooden stairs and across the porch into the house, where I froze and glanced around. The foyer gave way to a great room with a kitchen in one corner, the dining area next to that, and the living area on the opposite side next to a wood-burning fireplace. The walls had been painted a neutral shade of beige, but there were no paintings or artwork. The drab furniture indicated a bachelor living on his own—hand-me-down accoutrement with no style whatsoever.

Just as I expected.

Leo told me Roman had never had a serious relationship and had lived alone for most of his adult life. Being a mechanic and leading a gang of murderous bikers must have taken up so much time as to keep him from properly decorating the space. It felt cold and unwelcoming, and I clenched my fingers around my bag as he led me farther inside.

“Kitchen, dining room, living room, the bathroom’s through there.” He pointed around the corner, and I bit the inside of my cheek to keep from grimacing. I could only imagine what that looked like. “Your room is upstairs.”

I followed Roman to the right, grabbing the railing to keep myself steady on shaking knees as I climbed the steps to the second floor. There was another bathroom at the end of the hall with two doors on either side in front of it.

“This one is me,” he said, gesturing to the one immediately at the top of the staircase. “And this”—he opened the door opposite his room and clicked on the light—“is you.”

I stepped inside and assessed the damage. My luggage sat in a far corner, already emptied by the movers I’d hired. My bed had been made in the center of the room and two dressers stood on the opposite wall. My closet at home was two times the size of this space, but alas. My life had become a miserable train wreck, and now I paid the piper.

Staring at these meek surroundings, I told myself this was the sacrifice I’d made for the good of my family. I wanted this war to end. I didn’t want to lose any more of my loved ones, and if I had to live in this hovel to prove it, I would. I bit my bottom lip and moved to the French doors opposite the main door, holding back a gasp at the view.

Because the house was so high up, we looked down into the valley of Madison County below. Beyond that, the mountainous skyline of western Virginia rose out of the horizon. The deckwrapped around this side of the house, and I envisioned myself taking coffee out here every morning for a better view. Sure, we had outdoor patios at the Caputi estate, but this…well, this almost made it all worth it.

“I know it’s probably not what you’re used to,” Roman said from his spot in the entrance, running his hands back through his hair. “But I promise you, it’s safe. No one will harm you here.”

I’d heard that before from every member of my family, including my aunt. In the end, I decided the only one who could keep me safe was me. Which was why there was an army’s worth of guns and ammo in one of those suitcases and my favorite knife in my garter belt under my dress. I even slept with it under my pillow.

“Thank you,” I said, forcing a smile before turning to the patio windows. “I’m sure this is…sufficient.”

Roman pushed upright and cleared his throat. “I have to go to the clubhouse in about an hour. There’s a session tonight and I need to be there.”

“Right.” Because he was the president. The president of my enemy. The proverbial king. He’d have to lead the great fight, and now that he had his prize in the form of a Caputi princess, my brother would likely be there as well.

“Right,” he said. “You should come, too.”

I’d rather swim through hot garbage.

I swallowed against a dry throat, remembering therealreason I was here, and licked my lips, willing myself to agree.

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