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“Don’t you fucking compare me to your dad,” he snarls.
The force of his voice stops me cold, and I know I should calm myself. I. Know. It. But… I can’t. Or maybe I won’t.
“Why?” I shout. “Because you don’t like hearing it?”
“Because I’m nothing like that piece of shit.”
“You both decided you knew what was best for me.”
“He sold you, Kira.”
Oh… this bastard. “And you bought me!” I scream.
His nostrils flare. “I fucking married you.”
“At gunpoint.”
The penthouse feels too small suddenly. The ceiling too low, the windows too wide. I’m trapped between the man in front of me and the life behind me, and neither one feels like mine.
Domenico’s eyes haven’t left my face. His anger hasn’t faded. But something in the set of his shoulders has shifted, and the air between us feels charged, like the moment before lightning strikes.
“You want a say?” he says. His voice is quiet. Dangerously quiet. “Then say it, Kira. Because I’ve been waiting for you to ask for something—anything—since the day I married you, and all you’ve done is take what I give you and thank me for it.”
He closes his eyes for a moment, long enough for me to shift my weight. Then he opens them again.
“I’ve repeatedly told you to use your goddamn words. Do you think I say that for fun? Or to remind you to use your voice? Hmm?”
The words hit like a physical thing. I open my mouth. Close it. The truth of it sits between us, ugly and undeniable, and for a second, I have nothing.
Then the anger finds its voice again, and it’s louder than before.
“You want to know what I want?” My voice is shaking. “I want you to stop making decisions about my life without asking me. I want you to look at me and see a person, not a possession you acquired.”
Domenico’s eyes darken. Something shifts in his posture—a tightening across his shoulders, a narrowing of his gaze—and the temperature in the room drops by several degrees.
“I did acquire you,” he says, his tone low and lethal. There’s an edge to it now that wasn’t there before. “You look at every boundary, every precaution, every decision I make, and you see a man who gets off on having power over his wife.”
“That’s no reason to treat me as such,” I volley.
His lips twitch as though he wants to smile. “Think carefully about what you’re saying, Kira.”
“What do you mean?”
“Am I treating you that way, or are you acting that way?”
“I…” I trail off when the words break through the cloud of anger that seems to flow around me.
“You married into a life where security isn’t a given, Kira. Where enemies exist. Where loyalty is the difference between living and dying,” he snaps. “The decisions I make—the rules I set—they exist because the alternative is leaving you vulnerable in a world that would eat you alive.”
“Then explain them to me.” I’m pacing again, my hands cutting through the air. “Don’t just hand them down like commandments. Tell me why. Make me understand. Treat me like I’m capable of understanding the world I’m supposedly part of.”
“You want understanding?” He takes a step toward me, and I hold my ground. “Greg approached and scared you in your own fucking home. In my world, that man doesn’t walk away. He doesn’t get a second chance. He gets buried. But because of you, he still lives. To you, that’s mercy. To me, that’s weakness.”
His blue eyes are hard, icy. “That’s the reality, Kira. Not the sanitized version you want to believe in. The real one.”
“That’s easy for you to say.” The words come out before I can stop them. Small. Raw. Devastating in their simplicity. “I didn’t choose to marry into your world. My dad sold me, and your son abandoned me, and you stood up and took me because it was convenient, and now I’m here, and I’m supposed to be grateful for the privilege of living by your rules?”
Something fractures in his expression. Just for a second—a flash of something that might be… no, it’s not hurt. Men like Domenico are incapable of feeling that. And it doesn’t matter because it’s already swallowed by something darker.
