Chapter 8 #2
“You’re still giving me the five months, Adora,” he says, voice lethal. “Not in the dungeon. Here. I need it. I fucking need it. For you to give me that time.”
His hands tighten on the chair.
“You owe it to me. And to make sure you don’t screw me over again — because I don’t trust you as far as I could throw you — you’re marrying me. Spousal privilege. Makes it harder for you to testify against me again. You understand now?”
My throat clicks when I swallow. “I think… maybe we could find other solutions?” My voice goes up at the end, weak and traitorous.
He leans in. Closer. Invading my space like it’s his to take.
I lean back.
“Marriage,” he says. “That’s the solution.”
Final. Absolute. God-tier decree. And of course, I argue. Who fucking wouldn’t?
“Let me get this straight,” I snap. “You want me to stay here, play house, fuck you for five months like some kind of live-in whore? That’s your brilliant revenge plan?”
His smirk widens. The smug bastard.
“There will be no fucking. Unless you want it, of course.” He shrugs, giving me a look that makes me feel suddenly naked. “I’m not opposed. But I don’t need that. I need you. I need control over your life for five months. Just like you handed mine over to others for five years.”
His voice drops, full of gravel and venom. “It’s a fair trade. No more dungeon. That’s a fucking promise.”
I swallow again. Hard. This isn’t logic. This isn’t normal. It’s just trauma in a nice suit making outrageous demands.
This is more fucked up than the dungeon. And that was already goddamn twisted.
Marriage. He said marriage. Proposing. He’s proposing. Did I die? What kind of hell am I stuck in?
“Ghost…” I start.
But I don’t get to finish.
His hand circles my throat so fast I don’t even get to blink once. I freeze instantly, like a deer in headlights. The entire space between us disappears in less than a second, and suddenly he’s right there — all heat and violence, close enough to burn me alive.
“Don’t call me that,” he spits through his teeth. His voice is a low, venom-laced whisper.
His fingers tighten, enough to remind me who’s in control. Who’s always been in control.
“What’s my name, Adora?”
My eyes go wide. There’s something feral in his expression. Wild. Unhinged.
“Dominic,” I whisper.
His eyes flutter closed, like I just gave him the answer to a question he’s been asking his entire life. Then he steps back. Lets go of my throat. Back to cold and casual, like he wasn’t one second away from losing his shit just a moment ago.
“We’re getting married. You’re giving me the five months. Then I let you go. That’s your only way out of this.” His voice is final. No cracks. No room to negotiate. He’s already decided.
I could fight it, but it would be pointless. His eyes say it all — he won’t bend on this. I’m fucked.
I try a little anyway. “No more dungeon? No more mind games?”
“No more dungeon,” he confirms with a small nod.
I take a deep breath.
Okay. I can do this. I’ve survived worse.
I’ll live in this expensive-as-fuck house with the only man I ever loved. The same man who wants to bury me in his very disturbing version of closure. What could possibly go wrong? It’s practically a vacation.
I owe him this, don’t I?
“Okay,” I breathe, eyes locked on his. “One condition, though,” I continue. “Stop having Liz followed.”
He grins, slow and victorious, and pulls a phone from his back pocket.
“Agreed. Text her. She messaged three days ago. I didn’t answer. Tell her you lost your phone, had to replace it.”
He places the phone in front of me like it’s no big deal.
“Disappearing messages,” he adds. “Secretive. Cute. I really thought you hadn’t talked to her in almost a year.”
He watches me closely, peeling layers off me with his gaze.
I give him a soft smile. “Why wouldn’t I talk to my sister?”
His head tilts, voice casual. Too casual. “Be careful what you tell her. Remember that I know people in Italy.”
The way he says it — like it’s the weather, not a threat — makes my stomach twist.
For one stupid moment, I forgot this is his revenge. I need to keep remembering that for the next five months. Every day. Every second. Keep my guard up for when the hammer drops. Because it will drop, I’m sure of it.
Immediately after I text Liz, a bone-deep exhaustion rolls over me.
“I need to sleep,” I whisper. “Just a little more.”
He nods, his face unreadable. I sway in the chair, dizzy with everything.
He steps forward, lifts me into his arms and carries me bridal style back to his bedroom. This is like a really weird foreboding of what’s to come.
My head falls against his shoulder. His warmth is steady. Familiar but so, so dangerous.
I’m asleep before we even reach the bed.
Ghost
Had to change the plan.
Again.
Fucking again.
She’s a goddamn hurricane wrapped in skin, hidden behind soft curves and bewitching eyes. Nothing ever stays on course when she’s involved.
She’ll be the death of me, I just know it.
She’s asleep now. Peaceful. Serene, even. Like she didn’t spend the last few weeks trapped in a concrete crypt. Like she hasn’t been clawing through my brain every second since I dragged her back into my life, and long before that.
The pills I crushed in her coffee worked faster than I expected. She was out before we even hit the bed.
Good. I need to move fast.
I slip out from the room and head to my home office. Hidden compartment. The package arrived early this morning, courtesy of Luca Romano.
Had to send an urgent request last night. The Famiglia keeps shit like this in bulk, probably stockpiled next to their cocaine and dead bodies. Told Luca if he breathed a word of it — especially to Bones — I’d make sure his pretty little girlfriend got some nice photos in the mail.
He didn’t like that. At all. He’ll make me pay for it eventually, I’d bet my cut on it. But for now? Worth it.
I open the box and pull out the syringe.
Shit. That needle is big.
It’ll bruise, that’s a fact. But she won’t notice. And if she does, she’ll write it off. Bumped into something. Slept weird. Who the hell suspects a nano GPS tracker under their skin? No one, that’s who.
And if she asks, I’ll lie. I’ll smile. I’ll distract her with a kiss, a fight, a memory. Whatever it fucking takes.
I can’t trust her word, but I can trust the tracker. If she tries to leave, she won’t stand a chance.
Two days later, I’m a married fucking man.
No rings.
No friends.
No family.
Just me, her, and two homeless guys I bribed with cash and cigarettes to sign their names as witnesses and keep their mouths shut.
Adora looked like she’d been hit by a truck the entire time. Shell-shocked. Frozen. Her hand in mine felt cold and stiff, like holding a corpse.
When the “I do” came, she didn’t say a word. Just stared at the Justice of the Peace like the words wouldn’t compute.
So I squeezed her hand. Hard. She flinched, blinked twice and whispered something that barely passed as consent. The old man started getting suspicious, eyes narrowing like he was about to call bullshit.
I had to play the part. I slid my arm around her shoulders, pulled her in, kissed her forehead like I couldn’t wait to start forever. Picture-perfect. She held it together after that, as much as she could, but it was close enough.
We didn’t talk about it after. Didn’t acknowledge what we’d done. We just walked out of that courthouse like nothing had changed.
Except everything had.
The two days before that? We fucked. All the time. Everywhere. Every room, every surface, every fucking corner of the house has pieces of her etched into it now. Her breath, her moans, her goddamn nails in my back.
I gave her the guest room next to mine. Left the door wide open so she’d have easy access, whenever she wanted. It was supposed to be a choice. A safe place, just for her.
She never used it.
That door hasn’t moved a fucking inch.
And still, I tell myself this is all part of the plan. That I’m in control. That I know what I’m doing.
I have a feeling that all I’m actually doing is lying to myself like the biggest fucking idiot on the planet. That I’m digging my own grave with every kiss.
That when the moment of reckoning comes, I won’t be able to make myself pull the switch.
But I can’t stop. I can’t fucking stop.