Page 62 of Ruthless God

And it was my name he called out while in the shower, and though I knew that didn’t mean much, it had to account for something.

I would be damned if I let her get the better of me.

I tilted my chin up in defiance, daring her to say anything to me.

Her eyes widened slightly, and the way she shifted her weight from one foot to the other told me she probably wouldn’t say anything.

Just before I could actually feel happy over this small victory, Elena walked in; the usual dark look she’d adopted whenever I came into her sight was on her face.

Lettie might have been young enough and pretty enough to entice Massimo into her bed before we married, but I had a feeling Elena was the one who orchestrated everything.

Elena took in the kitchen in all its entirety, her scowl darkening further.

“What have you done in my kitchen?” she said. She didn’t yell, but her voice was a little louder than necessary, and though I had thought I was better than I had been when I was little, there was just something about raised voices that always made me want to freeze in place and try to make myself as small as I possibly could.

I didn’t answer her right away, trying to calm my heart and think of a way to respond that wouldn’t escalate the situation.

“Look at all this mess,” Elena exclaimed. “Are you expecting either Lettie or me to clean it for you?”

That had never even crossed my mind. I would have cleaned it up myself eventually, but the way she asked the question told me she already guessed the answer.

“It’s your job, isn’t it? It’s what I hired you to do, or have you gotten so bold over the years that you think you’re exempt fromdoing your job?” a deep voice asked from behind Elena, startling everyone.

I looked over to see Massimo standing there, and I couldn’t be sure, but he looked mad.

No, more than mad.

He looked furious.

But even furious, there was still something so controlled about him that I had never witnessed with other made men. Not with Andre and not even with Emilio.

“Mr. De Luca!” Elena exclaimed, the color draining from her face.

I stood where I was, unsure of what I was supposed to do. Would his obvious anger toward Elena somehow make its way onto me?

Was he one of those men who didn’t calm easily once his temper was pricked at, taking it out on anyone and anything within sight?

I didn’t know.

Apprehension danced along my spine.

“I didn’t mean it like that,” Elena stuttered out. I almost felt bad for her.

“No?” Massimo asked calmly, his voice low. “Then what is it like? Did I not hear you tell my wife that the mess in this kitchen wouldn’t be cleaned up by you?”

“Mama didn’t mean it like that,” Lettie chimed in. She quieted when Massimo turned those cold green eyes toward her. She took a step back.

“There’s no need to explain. You both owe my wife an apology.”

I tensed when both Elena and Lettie turned their attention toward me as they mumbled out their apologies. Their eyes strayed to the floor.

I couldn’t say anything in acknowledgment of that. I didn’t know what to say. Never had anyone tried to stick up for me before, and Massimo was doing it…

But why?

For image’s sake?

He couldn’t have people talking about how his wife was being bullied by the staff.

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