Page 36 of Vow of Hate

I grip the side of the tub. Water splashes onto his knees but he doesn’t comment on it. “Why not?”

“Why would I say? Then I would be revealing things about myself. Ergo, opening up.”

“Dante, please.”

His eyes darken. “I like hearing you say my name.”

My breath gets caught in my throat. “Dante.” It’s nice saying his name. A strong, handsome name. “Please. Give me something. You’ve taken me prisoner. You’ve done things to me no one else has. You also protected me. You don’t make any sense. Just tell me one thing about you. One perfect day you had growing up.”

“Why would I tell someone I hate a thing like that?”

I flinch. “You hate me? You have a funny way of showing it given how you saved me. You could have let me get arrested but you fixed all of that for me. You could have let me on the floor where Edward beat me but you immediately called for your doctor. Why do these things for someone you hate?”

“Because,” he says, leaning close to my face, “I like having fun with you. You’re no good dead or locked away in a prison.”

“Just one thing,” I breathe out. His eyes flutter closed for a second. “Just one perfect day. It won’t hurt you to tell me.”

“You’re not going to drop it, are you?”

“Are you going to hurt me if I don’t drop it?”

He doesn’t respond, telling me everything I needed to know. “Fine. Just one day. One day won’t hurt, I guess.” He sighs, tilting his head to the ceiling. “Ok. I have it. One perfect day when I was a child. My mother would take me out for ice cream when my father was in one of his moods. It was nice.” He pauses. “Until she would hit me again.”

“You said you hated your mother. That you were glad she was dead. But you never said how she died.”

He looks me right in the eye as he answers. “She killed herself. Took the cowardly way out.”

“And then you killed your father?”

“Sure. Whatever story you want to hear.”

I frown. “Are you making all of this up? Telling me what I want to hear? I have no idea if you’re telling the truth.”

“Why would I lie about my parents being assholes?”

“I don’t know,” I whisper. “But I feel like you’re not being honest with me. There’s a wall between us.”

“Of course there’s a wall between us, Sienna. You are not the woman I married. You’re the woman I kidnapped. Big difference. I don’t love you. Why would I share anything about myself with you?”

Tears hit my eyes and Dante doesn’t even show any remorse as they slowly fall down my face. “Because you know everything about me. Where I live. Who my mom is. You know I love her. You know my father is dead. It’s not fair.”

“Who ever said life was fair?”

“Did you really kill your father? You told me you found him with a prostitute and you killed him while he was having sex with her. Is that true?”

“What even is the truth?”

“Dante,” I say in a hard tone.

His eyes light up with excitement. That’s a dangerous thing when Dante is excited. “I like hearing you say my name like that. Powerful. It’s much better than you’re soft, demure voice.”

“I’ve been told to speak up my entire life. It gets tiring after a while.”

“If it gets tiring, then why not just speak up?”

“Because it’s not easy. It’s just who I am.”

“I could bring out the fire in you,” he murmurs. “In fact, I’ve already started. You’ve moaned for me, Sienna. And it was a glorious sound. It was the first time I’ve ever felt that close to God.”