CHAPTER TWENTY
Adrian
I watched as the truth shattered her and crumbled before me, this beautiful creature in white who had been handed to me on a silver platter.
My wife.
The word tasted like victory on my tongue.
The sight of her breaking filled me with a dark, primal satisfaction that surged through my veins like a drug.
Her face transformed as the realization struck her—her hazel eyes widening, pupils dilating with shock before contracting with pain, her perfect pink lips trembling, the carefully constructed mask of composure shattering like glass.
The subtle shift in her posture as her shoulders slumped forward, her spine curving inward as if to protect herself from the blow.
My bride, realizing her true worth on our wedding night.
In this moment, she was utterly, devastatingly beautiful in her vulnerability.
My beautiful, pitiful wife.
Satisfaction coursed through me, hot and intoxicating.
I had waited so long to wipe that smugness off Matteo’s face, to watch his carefully constructed world crumble.
And now I had finally done it. The image of my brother’s face in the audience while I stood at the altar…
the shock, the rage, the utter devastation… would fuel me for years to come.
And yet, something nagged at me.
Serafina had walked right into my arms without me having to trick her into bed... it had been almost too easy.
Too fucking easy.
The thrill of the chase, the thrill of winning felt hollow now. Empty. The victory wasn’t as sweet as I had imagined because she had practically gift-wrapped herself for me.
But this was only the beginning.
Matteo had to suffer more, and to make him suffer, Serafina would have to suffer too.
How unfortunate for my bride.
“You’ve r-ruined me,” she whispered, her words barely audible.
Her face transformed, the initial shock melting into something darker, something dangerous—an untamed fury like I had never seen in her before. Her hands balled into fists at her sides, her chest heaving behind the lace of her wedding gown with rapid breaths.
I stayed silent, letting her drown in the truth of her new reality.
“You ruined me.” Her voice cracked. The words seemed to ignite something within her. She rose from the bed. “You ruined me, humiliated me, destroyed everything I’d been raised to become.”
She lunged at me then, her small fists pounding against my chest with surprising force. I could have stopped her easily, but I allowed it, savoring her rage.
Fuck me, she was ethereal.
Hauntingly beautiful.
“How could you?” she screamed, tears streaming down her face. Each word punctuated by another blow. “How dare you? You took everything from me! For what? Why?”
Her fists continued their assault, each blow weaker than the last as her strength waned. “I have had enough of being everyone’s pawn!”
I remained perfectly still, watching her unravel.
“I’ve had enough!” she hissed in my face. “I won’t be your puppet.”
I caught her wrists, holding them firmly but not enough to hurt her. I could if I wanted to… “That’s too late now.” I leaned down, my lips brushing her ear. “You’re my wife and it’s till death do us part.”
“How?” she asked, lips curled with disgust. “How did you do it? Did you drug me? Is that how I ended up in your bed?”
“Now now, be careful with your accusations, wife.”
“What did you do?” Serafina bellowed, the walls echoing with her broken fury.
Feisty, she was.
Tempting. So fucking tempting.
My cock hardened at the sight of her savage wrath. I imagined how fucking good her nails would feel clawing at my back as I fucked that rage out of her, until she was a pleading, wet mess underneath my body, dripping with my cum.
Goddamn it.
I was fucked.
“I did no such thing,” I said calmly. “You came to me.”
“I would never!”
“But you did.”
“I hate you.” Serafina wrenched her wrists from my grip and punched me in the chest again, the force of it almost pushing me back. My wife was strong.
“I hate you,” she said again, raising her hand as if to slap me. I caught her wrist again before her palm could connect with my face. “I hate you!” she screeched this time. “Let me go! Let. Me. Go.”
Serafina struggled against my hold, twisting and hissing, a hysteria I had never seen before until her strength waned and her cries turned into wretched sobs.
“I won’t let you use me.” Her voice was raw, desperate.
“Oh, but you already have.” I released her wrists, stepping back.
She stumbled back and angrily wiped her tears. Her cheeks were flushed and stained with her mascara, her lips curled with hate and disgust. Violence simmered beneath her skin.
Silly her. Did she really think she had a choice? That she ever had a choice?
This was war and there would be a bloodbath… there would be casualties. And Serafina was merely collateral damage in a battle that had begun long before she entered our lives.
“This is just the beginning,” I announced, my voice rough and almost unrecognizable to my own ears. “Welcome to your new life, wife.”
I turned and walked toward the door, feeling her gaze burning into my back. I didn’t look back. I didn’t need to. I could feel her devastation radiating through the room, the walls stained with her desolation, the floors tarnished with the ashes of her broken heart.
Behind me, I heard her ragged breathing, the sound of fabric rustling as she sank to her knees.
I closed the door behind me and I leaned against it, listening. For a moment, there was only silence. Then—
A scream tore through the room. A primal, guttural sound that seemed to tear from the depths of her soul. It was followed by the crash of something breaking, likely one of the expensive vases that decorated the room.
I smiled, a dark chuckle rumbling in my chest as I walked down the hallway.
This was going to be fun. I hadn’t expected her to be this feisty, to hold such rage in her soul, such ruthless inferno.
Serafina had been prim and proper for too long. And I had broken something inside her. If remained unchecked, she would be a wildfire. Untamed. Ruinous. Devastating. Lethal.
Serafina surprised me more and more. What an interesting start to our married life.
The house was quiet as I descended the stairs, the only sound was the soft click of my dress shoes against the marble floor. Edmund appeared in the foyer, his expression carefully neutral.
“Would you like me to bring you anything, sir?” he asked.
I rolled my neck side to side, chasing the tension that clung to me like a vise. “Whiskey to my office. I’ve run out.”
“Will Mrs. Salvatore be joining you? Should I have the chef prepare something light for her to eat or tea perhaps?”
“No.” I adjusted my cufflinks. “She’s... settling in.”
It was going to be a long night for her.
Let’s see how long you last, wife.