Page 30 of Tormented Diamonds
BECCA
For three days, Anton and Owen have kept their distance, their attention occupied by whatever new task Gianni has commanded. Even the soldiers he’s instructed to hover over me stay hidden away in the shadows.
We’ve settled into a comfortable, albeit unorthodox, routine where Gianni attends meetings at all hours of the day and night, while I pass the time searching the internet for newly published psychology journals. If I narrow my eyes enough, I can almost convince myself we’re ordinary newlyweds, settling into mundane married life.
But nothing about this life is ordinary or mundane. Like a river, it ebbs and flows, until it forms an inevitable current, and on the cusp of the fourth day, I find myself wading upstream in a riptide of shit.
We sit at opposite ends of the dinner table in silence, a heavy weight stretching between us. I don’t know why thingsfeel so somber. Nothing’s happened. It’s just a feeling—a loaded anticipation that sits heavy on my shoulders. I try to match Gianni’s staunch, hardline energy, but after twenty minutes of stilted reticence, I can’t take it anymore.
“You’re quiet tonight,” I murmur.
“I could say the same about you.” He nods to where I’m mindlessly pushing chicken around my plate. “Plus, you’ve barely touched your food. Are you sick?”
“No. Just not that hungry.”
“You weren’t hungry for lunch or breakfast, either. If you’re not sick, then…” He trails off, the muscles in his neck tightening. “Don’t fucking tell me you’re pregnant.”
“No, I’m not pregnant,” I clip, the horror etched in his face pissing me off more than the accusation. “But I’m glad to know how much it offends you. Hey, here’s an idea… If you’re so worried about it, how about wear a condom?”
“That’s not what?—”
“Forget it.” I shove a piece of chicken in my mouth, only to stiffen as the shrill sound of the doorbell chime explodes throughout the house. I meet Gianni’s stony stare, almost choking when I notice him gripping his fork like a weapon.
“Are you expecting anyone?”
I shake my head, the small bite of food settling in my stomach like a rock. “You?”
“No.” He pushes back from the table and stands, his casual gray button-up and dark slacks hugging every inch of his sculpted body as he strides toward me. “I’ll get rid of whoever it is.” At my indifferent nod, he takes my chin in his hand, his thumb brushing my cheek. “I’m not offended, Becca. I’m practical and realistic. There’s a difference.”
I hold my tight-lipped smile until he leaves the room, then tip my head back and slump into my chair.I hate this.I hate pretending there’s not a gnawing feeling of dreadin my stomach, and I really hate acting as if I haven’t been tip-toeing around, waiting for the floor to cave in. But it’s the silence that’s existed since Henry’s phone pinged that I loathe the most. It has Gianni operating on a hairpin trigger. Everything sets him off these days, which...
At the muffled sound of shouting, I snap my head up, instinct driving me to my feet.
Oh, God. Is it the Authority? Do they know Gianni talked to the feds?
Keeping my eyes on the archway, I brush my hand across the table until it lands on the bread tray. With trembling fingers, I grip the handle of the knife, then slip it around my back.
My pulse races.
My heart thumps.
My breath quickens.
Then, the shouting gets louder, the voices clearer.
“...going to find her … have to shoot me to stop me…”
“...don’t threaten me with a good time … badge doesn’t permit trespassing…”
“...lied to save your ass … see you in hell…”
No, it can’t be… But it is, and the moment he appears in the archway, fists-clenched and red faced, I know a guillotine just fell on our bubble.
“Dad?”
“Becca…” He exhales my name like a prayer. “You’re safe.”
“Of course, I am. Why wouldn’t I be?”
