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Andres’ POV
She was a child at best. I didn’t know one grown woman could be so damn difficult. I had to practically force-feed her the last few days. At least now her damn fever had cleared, but she still insisted on locking herself away in the study for hours on end.
Every morning, she would wake in a cold sweat from her nightmares, but she refused to speak about them. Not that we were the typical husband and wife, but I was still the only person she could truly trust.
Well… for the time being. We were currently at war, and the lines between foe and friend would remain blurred until we permanently dealt with the Russians.
She was looking into her family’s murders. She had at least a dozen boxes delivered to the house, filled with files, tapes, and reports. I didn’t’t know what she thought she could dig up from things that were nine years old. But she was definitely determined.
“You look like shit.” My brother walked into the kitchen dressed in a suit and tie. He walked over to where I sat by the island and pinched a flapjack that Priscilla, my housemaid, had prepared for me. “Marriage is taking its toll on you, brother.”
I wanted nothing more than to smack that cocky little smile off his face. His time would come too. We were all expected to marry, but it was just unfortunate my time had been forced on me.
“Why are you here?” I stabbed a strawberry with my fork and plunged it into my mouth. “You usually don’t get up before noon on a Monday.”
This was partly because he spent his days partying on Sunday at one of the illustrious clubs. He would usually be nursing a hangover at this very moment.
“Didn’t go out last night, I had other plans.” He finished off my flapjack gleefully and then looked around the empty kitchen. “Where is my lovely sister-in-law? I haven’t seen her since Papa’s birthday party.”
“Working.” That was all he was going to get out of me. The last thing I wanted was to be airing out my marital problems. “Why are you here, brother?”
“We’ve been summoned.” He leaned his hip against the marble. “It seems Father has some news that he wants to share with us.”
“News?”
He lifted his hands and shrugged. “I am but a simple messenger. We need to go to the compound upstate.”
“He wants us to go upstate? That’s a good three-hour journey!” Like hell I was going to leave just like that. I had to go and check on the production team for the drugs and make sure that we were on course for this month's shipment. “We need to meet the Colombian quota.”
“Again, I’m only the messenger. He only needs us for a few hours, then we’re free to go. Let’s just get this meeting over and done with, so we don’t have to worry about him.”
I stabbed my fruit again, imagining it was my father’s head. The man had a way of working on my nerves without even being near me.
I opened my mouth to tell my brother that our father could fuck right off when my wife rounded the corner in yoga pants and a sports bra. She looked far more put together than she had the last few days. The permanent scowl that always graced her face was on full display.
She paused when she saw both me and my brother in the kitchen. Her eyes moved from Valerio to me and then back again.
“Valerio,” she greeted him, then beelined to the fridge. She rummaged through it until she pulled out her can of coffee that she had Priscilla stocked up on. She then turned to face us again, her gaze cut to me sharply. “I’m going home.”
“You are home.” My response came quicker than I imagined.
“My real home, dipshit. I need to meet with Martina. She’s back from Paris and she can’t travel down here. I will be back in a few days.”
“And your safety? Are you forgetting the previous assassination attempt on your life?”
She scoffed. “No, I’m not. Which is why I have my security detail coming. I don’t trust you, let alone your incompetent men, to protect me. Besides, I have been protecting myself for almost a decade, and I haven’t died yet.”
I set my jaw hard. “You’re not leaving.”
She tilted her head to the side and lifted her left hand to flip me the bird. “You don’t own me, Valdez.”
“The ring on your finger says otherwise.” Why was dealing with her like dealing with a teenage hooligan? She had to make everything so damn difficult all the time. “You stay.”
“No, I don’t.” She practically pirouetted out of the kitchen, leaving me simmering in my anger.
First my father, and now her.
Valerio chuckled lowly under his breath as he watched the exchange between husband and wife.
