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I’d laughed at Maria, telling her there was no way I could tolerate such bullshit. The flash of anger in her eyes had quickly been replaced with a sense of relief that she wasn’t entering into a forced marriage.
Neither one of us said anything but where there’d been such warmth in the man’s eyes before, there was nothing but coldness now. I swallowed hard as he closed the door behind him, immediately walking to the window.
The tension was eerie, terrifying. Seconds ticked by. A full minute. I finally stood, pressing my fingers across my mouth to keep from making a single sound.
He took a deep breath, shoving one hand into his pocket, planting his other palm against the glass. “In my line of work, I’ve become very good at knowing when someone is lying to me. It’s something my father called an art a long time ago, a skill I needed to learn in order to keep the peace. I’d laughed at him saying that all actors were damn good liars making you believe they are who you want them to be. But he was right. Once I’d learned that… art, I became a much better leader. After displaying my abilities only a few times, it was almost miraculous that enemies stopped trying to attack us.”
“Why are you telling me this?”
“Because you wanted to learn everything about me. Of course I’ve heard that your father bragged about the number of men he’d killed rivaled his conquests of the woman who flocked to his side. And still, I’d wanted to keep you from the ugliness of the business.”
“I appreciate that.”
“Do you, Maria?” He turned around to face me. The way he’d stated my name brought another cold shiver directly down my spine.
“Yes. My father did enjoy bragging to almost anyone. I hated it.”
“But you got used to it.”
“Certainly. Sadly, I heard it all.”
He smirked. “That’s why you insisted on being told about my business activities.” It wasn’t a question.
“Maybe so.” A sick feeling pooled in my stomach, my mind spinning with horrible possibilities.
He took a step closer, which caused me to take a step away. His smirk meant he knew he was frightening me and was enjoying doing so. “Then you won’t mind me telling you that I slaughtered twenty men yesterday, painting the inside of an apartment red.”
I was shocked he’d go that far. “Don’t do that. Don’t.” I could feel the color draining from my face.
“I thought you’d heard it all.” He grabbed my wrist and before I could yelp, he wrapped his other hand around my throat, shoving me roughly against the wall so savagely the wind was knocked out of me.
“Stop. Stop.”
“Why should I, Maria? Or should I call you by your real name, Margot Rollins?”
Oh, God. Oh, no. No. No!
Shock tore through me, enough so I stopped fighting him altogether. Seconds later, I remembered the horror of hearing what Maria had told me, the threats she’d made. That made continuing to lie a little bit easier. I had to do it. I had to keep the charade going. “That’s crazy. What are you talking about?”
He squeezed until I coughed, lowering his head until his hot breath tickled my ear. “Be very careful, my wife, what you say to me.”
“Why? Are you going to slaughter me as well?”
There was a moment I was certain he was going to snap my neck. When he nipped my ear then laughed, backing away, I tried to keep from showing how terrified I was.
He yanked something from his pocket, tossing it in my direction. I watched it float to the floor, stooping seconds later after he returned to his perch at the window. When I opened the wrinkled sheet, I almost passed out.
It was a photograph of me with the real Maria at the airport.
Keep up the act. You can do this. You must do this.
“What the hell is this?” I asked, trying to make my voice sound as rebellious as it had been almost the entire time I’d been with him.
He laughed, the sound so bitter it brought a tremendous wave of sadness. “That’s not you?”
I had to weigh this carefully. “Yes, that’s me right there. I was seeing my parents off at the airport. That’s where I went.”
“And the other girl?”
