Chapter 27
The fine silk fabric wraps around my legs as I walk down the intricately decorated hallway. In the air, many faint fragrances mix with traces of wood polish. The thick carpet under my feet dampens my steps as I follow Maggie to the now familiar door. Everything feels the same, yet nothing is.
Nothing will ever be the same again.
I have no idea what possessed me to contact Maggie and request a meeting with my mysterious, silent guest tonight.
My husband.
Getting out of Adriano’s limo after finding his daily planner, I felt like I had been hit by a Mack truck. Like my brain had been restored to factory default. Suddenly, everything I previously believed was wiped out. Everything I thought I knew was wrong.
I left Adriano’s journal right where I found it in his car, but its weight dragged me down to sit my butt on the back steps of the mansion.
I must have sat there for hours, going over every moment of my time with Adriano.
Trying to find what I might have missed.
A clue. An inadvertent giveaway. A blatant sign that my silent guest and my now husband are one and the same.
Was I blind? Yes. Was I deaf? Only because he chose muteness. But how could my other senses fail me so badly?
Or maybe they didn’t. Maybe I simply refused to acknowledge the truth. I dismissed that faint ocean scent I’ve noticed around Adriano as a figment of my imagination. Convinced myself it wasn’t there. Denied what my heart must have known all along. What my subconscious tried to show me.
The different masks of the same man.
At one time or another, he’d allowed me to see each one.
The ruthless monster. The attentive guest. But they are one.
One soul. Belonging to the man who felt my pain, who told me to close my eyes to spare me more, who saved my mother while knowing that I would find his method abhorrent.
That I might even hate him for it. But he still followed through because he understood that I could never bear the weight of that choice.
So he shouldered it himself instead. Something I wouldn’t have ever asked him to do.
But I never needed to ask him anything, have I?
Somehow, he has always been able to hear what I left unsaid.
He’s proven it over and over. Saved me from a terrible fate.
And although I still do not understand his reasons for doing any of the things he’s done—good or bad—I can no longer deny the feelings that have been growing in me for months.
Feelings that I’ve struggled with because I thought they were for two different men, yet I couldn’t separate one from another.
Each time, they blended into one. Each time, I saw the traits of one in the other.
The protector. The predator. The caregiver.
Adriano is all of those things and more.
The unscrupulous man who forced me to marry him, and the man who kept me warm in the cold.
All the things he has done, in silence, made me realize—I don’t hate the monster at all.
How could I when that monster has a heart?
One that he continues to keep hidden beneath an icy shield.
From me, and from himself. Maybe he’s afraid that my knowing the truth about his benevolent deeds would wound him somehow?
So he freezes me out, along with everyone else, instead? Why?
Always, there’s the “why” when it comes to Adriano Ruffo.
Now, more than ever, finding the answer feels critical to me.
“So, Rina tells me you got married,” Maggie chirps as we come up to the dark oak door.
“To be honest, I was shocked when you called me tonight. I never thought I’d see you again.
It was an even bigger surprise when your regular guest accepted your invitation.
A man like him, on such short notice and all, I simply didn’t expect that. ”
I never expected him to agree, either.
But again, he rarely does what I expect.
Why did he agree? Why not confront me after he got Maggie’s call, demand an explanation? Why continue with this…charade he’s been playing for months, seeing me in secret. Is it a game? If it is, what is the purpose of it?
“Here we are, girly. Need my help with the blindfold?”
I look at the length of white silk tied around the door handle, letting my fingers glide over the delicate material. Is there a point in us continuing this sham?
“Sure.” I untie the blindfold and raise it to my eyes.
Whatever Adriano’s reasons are, he obviously decided to continue playing. Maybe it’s time to turn the tables on him.
***
I never imagined that an emotion could be a palpable force. But as the door shuts behind me, I can feel his anger like a physical barrier between us. The air itself seems to be charged. The silence is deafening. Instead of being calming like before, it is heavy and suffocating. Threatening even.
The plush carpet absorbs the sound of our steps as Maggie directs me toward my usual sofa. Rather than coming around and taking a seat, I pause with my hands on the back of the couch and listen until Maggie retreats. I wait. Until the nearly noiseless click of the lock thunders in my ears.
Dragging my fingers along the back of the sofa, I carefully walk around it, then step past the coffee table to reach the other couch. As I take a seat, the faint scent of an ocean breeze surrounds me, and I shift until I feel the heat of my husband right next to me.
“I didn’t think you’d come.” My voice shatters the silence, as if it’s much louder than it actually is.
My heart thumps wildly in my chest as I hold my breath, waiting to see if he’ll respond. I have no clue what in the heck I’m doing, but I know I need to keep going.
Maybe it was my affinity for solving puzzles that urged me to have this showdown.
Maybe it was the incessant need to understand who my husband really is.
Maybe something else entirely. Will he keep pretending?
Will he continue to hide? Whatever drove me here tonight, I’m ravenous for answers.
I want to know Adriano Ruffo as no one else does.
I should not be surprised that there is no reply. He remains as silent as ever. The only tangible proof that he’s present is the subtle brush of my arm against his solid body. And that supercharged air around us.
Months. He’s been toying with me for months. Why? To what end? What is going on in that head of his? As always, I have no answers. If I live a thousand years, I would likely still not understand this man.
“I’m married,” I say. “Does that change things between us?”
He remains mute, but the energy in the air seems to skyrocket, every molecule pulsing with perilous intent.
I feel him. His barely restrained fury. The anger rolling off him like an avalanche of heat.
The man is a molten core beside me. His essence wants to incinerate me and char everything else.
He’s beyond mad. Yet, he keeps up the charade.
“My husband…he’s…a very complicated man.
” My voice seems to echo in the otherwise silent room.
“He blackmailed me into marrying him. Not because he wants me, but because he wants something from me.” I pause, hoping I’ll provoke him into a reaction.
Hoping my words will push him to confess who he is. Nothing. There’s nothing, as always.
“You see, to him, people are expendable. He uses them how he sees fit. Or simply eliminates them if they are in his way. He doesn’t care about anyone. Not me, not any other living creature on earth. He wouldn’t do a single kind thing for someone unless it benefited his plans.”
Like finding a trivial kitchen spice for an insignificant girl because she likes it. Or choosing not to demolish a certain building.
A man with a frozen heart would never do any of that.
“He is nothing like you.” I turn to face him even though I can’t see him. “Maybe that’s why I dreamed of you on my wedding night. Dreamed about our kiss.”
His body goes stone-still beside me, as if every muscle in him seized. But he stays silent. Stoic. In control. Around me, there are fewer than a handful of times when he lost that battle, and one of those was when we kissed.
I’m not even sure if what we shared could be called a kiss.
It was a devouring, pure and simple. He consumed me like a starving man presented with his first meal in ages.
As my silent guest, Adriano touched me as if he desired me, craved me.
But outside of this room, the man has never indicated any attraction, any affection for me.
“Do you ever think about it?” I lean a bit closer. “About that kiss?”
A beat. A breath. Then another.
“No.”
A growled whisper. Angry.
And a blatant lie.
I know because I feel his breath on my lips. Warm. Rapid. As if our faces are only inches apart.
“Oh.” I tilt my chin up. “Then, maybe, we shouldn’t meet again.”
Hard, demanding lips collide with mine, stealing my breath.
I gasp, kissing him back. Welcoming his onslaught and raining my own. My heart rate takes off at the speed of light. Surpassing the insanity of our first kiss.
Two unyielding hands capture my waist, and the next thing I know, I’m straddling Adriano’s lap.
My arms find their way around his neck, fingers threading through those silky strands, anchoring me while our lips continue their ravenous battle.
A rush of adrenaline zips through my body as he grips the back of my neck in a steely hold, locking me in place as if worried I will pull away.
That hold is relentless. Possessive. Fierce.
Just like his siege of my mouth. Being kissed by my husband is like being caught in the epicenter of an earthquake.
Experiencing the rampage, an epic fury, and a complete loss of control.
My panties are soaked with the proof of my insatiable need for more.
For him. Experiencing Adriano losing his precious restraint like this is more potent than any aphrodisiac I know. And I want more of it.