Page 2 of A Wife's Duty

“Wear this.” He clicked his fingers. “I want her hair and makeup done.”

At first, she hadn’t noticed the man and woman following behind him. He threw the garment he was holding across the sofa, and then without a single look, he was gone.

Now, she was left with two strangers, both of whom looked at her, assessing. This was new. She was so used to people looking at her like she was a lost cause.

“I think I’m going to do my best work, with the dress on,” the man said.

The woman looked at her, and came toward her. “Come on, what Boone wants, he gets.”

And with that, for the next hour, she was pushed into the most obscene dress she had ever seen.

She never wore jeans. At home, she was only ever allowed in skirts and dresses. Her father simply didn’t allow her to be in anything else. It had to be a dress, and never one like this. The dress dipped down, heading toward her stomach, and yet seemed to stop. Her breasts were pushed together, and her cleavage was shown, however, not her nipples. It looked revealing and classy at the same time. She had never been in such a beautiful dress, which was a deep red.

Next, after the dress, Mitchell got to work on her hair, while Sandra worked on her makeup. Not once did she hear that it was a lost cause, or she was useless, or ugly. There was none of that.

Within the hour, she had been transformed. Her long brown hair she often saw as dull had a lifeful sheen to it, with a curl and bounce that surprised her. She didn’t have a lot of makeup on her face, but the smoky eye colors and subtle hint of blush were simply perfect.

For the first time in her life, she could actually pass as pretty. Part of her wanted to think she was beautiful, but she knew that wasn’t the case. There was nothing beautiful about her. But she might pass for pretty.

Once they were done, Boone, not Bone, was standing out in the hallway, dressed in a suit, his usual style. Black pants, white shirt without a tie, and a jacket. He always looked so in control and put together.

She watched as he clicked on his cell phone, before looking up. He looked her up and down, nodded his head.

“Good job,” he said.

Without another word, her hand was grabbed and she was being marched out of the apartment. She didn’t have a choice but to keep up with him. There was no way she could tell him no. That word is not one that is meant to be said to a husband. Her mother had told her so. What the husband wanted, he got, without having to work for it. All the woman had to do was ... exactly as she was told. A wife’s duty was to comply, submit, and provide children.

They were suddenly in an elevator, and Lucia couldn’t help it, she tried to wrap her arms around her body.

“What are you doing?” he asked.

“I’m ... this is ... I’m not used to this.”

“Get used to it. Do not cover yourself again,” he said. “It’s not cold out.”

That’s true. It was still the height of summer.

She took a deep breath. She was never allowed to reveal too much of her body. This was crazy and so bizarre.

The elevator doors pinged open, and Boone grabbed her hand, and started to lead her out. His men were everywhere, and no one stopped them.

There was a car parked right outside. Boone opened the door, and waited for her to slide inside, which she did. She moved across and settled in for him to slide in next to her. He was a tall, muscular man. He was also very handsome, which was why it surprised her when her sister didn’t argue about being with him.

Sitting back, she tried not to look at him. Only, she was drawn to the man, who terrified the people she had known were used to being feared.

Boone Grinder. The feared man. The one man the mafia wanted on their side.

“You’re staring at me,” he said, without even glancing her way. “Why?”

“I’m sorry.”

“I didn’t ask for an apology. Why are you staring?”

“I...” She didn’t know what to say that might not anger him. He’d not hit her yet, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t capable of it. What if he killed her?

“Lucia, I’m going to be straight with you. You want to last in my world. You want to survive, then you don’t lie to me. I can’t fucking stand liars or cheaters, or bullies. They don’t stand a chance. You want to have a good life, then you be honest with me, from the start.”

“Honesty?”

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