Page 33 of The Boss
Which can’t be true, because what I see is not a crazed killer who likes to compress skulls with his bare hands.
No, he’s playing me. He’s working me like I was trying to work him.
I didn’t even push him for answers. I should have. Because,hello,am I supposed to sleep on the couch for our whole marriage? And beyond sleeping, is he really fine with no sex with me, ever? Does that mean he’s getting it elsewhere? Fine if he is. Great. But what about a precious heir, won’t he want me to provide one of those?
Am I allowed to come and go as I please? Don’t I have to have a personal bodyguard? When do I get to go into the city and check my email? How far is the nearest mall for shit’s sake?!
Not that I want to go shopping.
But I do want off this compound.
Time for a new plan.
Think, Luna. Think!
Out of habit I reach down into my bag by my feet to pull out my laptop. But I remember I don’t need to bother. No internet connection. I grab my black book instead and start writing.
My plan is still the same:
Get out of this marriage. Get back home. Become Don, either by usurping Numb Nuts Bosco or convincing Papa or however I have to do it.
Setback:
Quinn is hellbent on staying married. He will not be deterred by silly antics. I can’t annoy him out of this. Plus, he wants the marriage to appear real to his people. Whatever. Real doesn’t mean happy. I’m not smiling and batting my lashes anymore.
So, whatamI doing?
I write Quinn’s name and circle it.
There has to be something he wants, something important about his factory on the Sound. That’s a lever I can use. There are always levers, weaknesses. His are hidden but I found all of Papa’s secrets over the years. I can be patient. I have some power here, I just need to figure out what it is.
Wait.
I have one card I’ve always held to my chest and never used. It was my first instinct when I heard about the engagement and I should’ve run with it.
Sex is power.
“Do you want me to fuck you?”
Ugh. Those words… the headboard gripped in his white knuckles, those eyes, the grit in his voice…myself and my vagina can confirm: he is a sexual being. He hasn’t done any overt ogling of my body or attempts to touch me or shown much interest at all, but I was pretending to be unhinged.
He didn’t care about the bloody sheets and I don’t get the feeling he cares about taking my virginity. But under all his scars and muscle, he’s still just a man.
Seduction is not hard, or at least, it never has been for me. I was disturbingly young when I started trading boob grabs for intel about my father. A few make out sessions with young guards got me access to names and schedules, which was all I needed to move around my father’s house in secret and uncover our entire world.
For anything my name alone couldn’t get me, I’ve made empty promises to tons of guys. Batted my long lashes, crossed my arms in a low cut shirt, licked my lips suggestively. Adding the virginity factor to all of those tactics has always turned the made men around me borderline feral.
Quinn is also a made man.
I can do this.
Seduce the giant. Get into his bed. Into his heart if he has one, which I doubt. Most of all, I’ll get into his brain. Earn enough trust that he starts to let things slip around me. A don never openly shares his secrets but a trusting man lets his little wife overhear conversations while she’s on her knees. Leaves his black book on the table and then falls asleep after banging one out late in the night.
This is simple.
Plant suggestive, tempting seeds and be patient. Wait and watch, like I have my whole life.
Yes.
