Page 16 of Bellini Bound
That was, until the sharp sound of flesh meeting flesh breached my fuzzy hearing. My head snapped up to find my husband, his white dress shirt speckled with blood, giving me a fucking slow clap.
I wanted to tear his head clean off.
“You’re a monster!” I screamed, vibrating with rage.
He had the audacity to scoff. “No, princess. The monster is the man who stood by and allowed an innocent woman to be killed and then sacrificed his only daughter to save his own hide.”
His words might as well have been a slap to the face. Because he wasn’t wrong. My father—whom I’d viewed my entire life as this pillar ofrighteousness—was beyond corrupt, and as a result, people had died and I’d been forced into a marriage to a criminal.
But as of two minutes ago, I could no longer claim the moral high ground. I was a murderer. Just like my father. Just like my husband.
Though there was little comfort in knowing there would be familiar faces waiting for me when I arrived in Hell.
Chapter 5
Allie
“Thisway.”
Walking ahead of me, Enzo lifted a hand, curling his fingers in a beckoning gesture.
We moved through the first floor of the massive house, and he pointed out each room as we passed. “Living room, kitchen, dining room, home gym.” He stopped before a closed door. “This is my office, and it’s strictly off-limits.”
Not in the mood for any more of his macho bullshit, I crossed both arms over my chest. “What’s next? You gonna tell me to stay out of the west wing?”
A pensive look crossed his face. “Now that you mention it, that’s probably a good idea.”
I gaped at him. He had to be fucking with me, right?
“Come, I’ll show you to your room.”
He took off toward the staircase in the foyer, expecting me to follow, but it was as if my feet were glued to the floor, and I couldn’t move.
When he realized I wasn’t behind him, he paused, turning back with an arched eyebrow. “Problem?”
Twisting my hands, I kept my eyes cast downward. “My room? But I thought—“
Enzo scoffed so loudly my head snapped up. “Did you learn absolutely nothing in the basement?”
I reared back. “Excuse me?”
He didn’t back down, taking a menacing step forward as his voice dropped to a low growl. “I just had you kill a man who forced himself on women, so what kind of hypocrite would that make me if I turned around and did the same to you? Wife or not, I won’t take what’s not given freely.”
Without waiting for an answer, he turned on his heel and practically stormed up the stairs. Momentarily stunned, I was rooted to the spot as I watched his ascent.
Reaching the top, Enzo stared down at me, letting out an aggravated groan. “You’re testing my patience, Allison.”
Teeth clenching, I glared at him, never once breaking eye contact as I made a point of stomping on each individual marble step. The sharp clack of my high heels meeting that hard surface echoed through the open space, making my annoyance known.
My husband/tour guide moved down the second-floor hallway, stopping before a set of double doors. Turning the handle, he flung one side open to reveal what could have easily passed as a presidential suite in a luxury hotel.
There was a sitting room furnished with several plush couches and a television. It even featured a gas fireplace and a kitchenette on opposite sides. Beyond, a separate space containing what appeared to be a king-size bed was visible through an interior arch.
Even though it was beyond beautiful and rivaled the size of the home I’d grown up in, it was nothing more than a jail cell where I would serve my life sentence as Mrs. Enzo Bellini.
“You’ll find that your bags have been placed inside the bedroom.”
Crossing the threshold into my cage, I grumbled, “Thanks,” with a little wave over my shoulder in a clear dismissal.
