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I took away her choice, but it’s for her own good. A target was placed on her head the moment her father spoke out against Mario Gilanto. And when I failed to take him down, I only made his thirst for blood even worse.
I won’t risk her life. So, I’ll deal with her bad moods and snide remarks for as long as it takes for me to put a bullet in Mario Gilanto’s skull.
“What are your plans for today?” I reach for the fresh pot of coffee and pour us both a cup.
Bianca remains a few feet away, leaning against the marble counter with daggers in her eyes as she watches me.
“Let me see…” She sets the creamer down on the counter and lifts her right hand. “See my friends. Check. Go on a date with a guy I met in a bar. Check.”
I grind my teeth together at the mention of her going on a date when she’s legally bound to me.
I shouldn’t be jealous. I have no right to be. This marriage is nothing more than business. But that doesn’t stop my instincts from screaming at me to mark my territory.
“I get your point.”
“Do you, Alexei? Because my life has been completely turned upside down, and I don’t see it ever returning to normal.”
I lean back against the counter, digging my fingers into the cold marble and letting out a long breath to try and keep myself calm.
She’s hurting. Be patient.
“I get you’re frustrated?—”
“I’m done having the same patronizing conversations with you.” She grabs her coffee cup and the bottle of creamer off of the counter and storms out of the kitchen.
I don’t see Bianca for the rest of the day. I busy myself in the study on the ground floor, not wanting to seem too overbearing if I take residence in my actual study up on the top floor.
I check in with Dimitri and Anton, but neither of them have any updates of note other than the fact that Emilio is in hiding and is safe. For now. I keep that information tucked away to offer to Bianca when the time comes. She’s under the impression she’ll be visiting with him soon, and I don’t have the heart to take that away from her too.
When dinner is served later that evening, Bianca takes a seat at the table opposite me but barely eats or speaks. It’s like I’m rooming with a zombie.
Something has to change because I can’t stand to be the reason behind the haunted look in her eyes every time she actually glances my way.
“I’d rather eat in my room,” Bianca states after ten minutes of awkward silence. “Eating dinner at the table every night with you makes me feel like a charity case.”
“We eat at the dinner table in this house.” I pour myself some water from the pitcher between us.
The table is large, big enough to seat ten people, but I had the maid lay up two seats opposite one another to try and make the dinner appear more intimate. Not that it seems to be making the blindest bit of difference.
“And you most certainly aren’t a charity case, solnyshka.”
“So, there’s no other girl you’d rather be wining and dining with?”
“Only you.” I dip my chin.
I wait for her cheeks to heat, her breath to catch, but she simply drops her gaze to her plate.
After another ten minutes of silence, Bianca excuses herself after barely eating her food. I watch her leave with a painful ache in my chest.
I need to do something to cheer her up.
Two days later, I gently knock on Bianca’s door. It’s just after midday, and I haven’t seen her since our morning coffee in the kitchen. I try to hide the smile on my face at the surprise I have planned for her, hoping it’ll make her feel more at home in this house.
“Bianca?”
“Go away.”
I take a deep breath before knocking again. “I have something to show you.”
