CHAPTER TEN #2
My jaw dropped. Disbelief crashed through me, but I barely had a chance to process it before reckless violence took over. I dashed for the knife on the coffee table at the same time he anticipated my move and lunged for me.
This time, I was quicker.
The knife found its way to his throat with the fluid efficiency of muscle memory. The tip rested against the soft hollow beneath his jaw, pressed into the warm skin where his pulse beat steady and unhurried. It was a lethal promise.
My hand was steady despite the fury pounding through my veins.
One small push. That was all it would take to cut through his jugular. Adrian Salvatore wasn’t as invincible as he thought he was.
He was, after all, only flesh and blood. Like the man he severed the hand from.
“You moved again. I’ve been looking for you,” he murmured, and his voice was low and infuriatingly calm.
I pressed harder. The blade bit through the surface of his skin. It wasn’t deep, not yet, but it was enough.
A crimson bead welled beneath the sharp edge before trailing down the powerful column of his neck in a thin, deliberate line. It traced the tendon before disappearing beneath the open collar of his black shirt.
He didn’t even flinch.
My husband smiled. God… that maddening, sickening smile of his. It transformed his handsome face into something entirely more magnetic and utterly deranged.
I had a knife against his throat, but it wasn’t fear or surrender. It was the psychotic smile of a man who wanted this moment to unfold exactly the way he’d hoped.
Dark. Twisted. Cruel.
His own perverse version of a happily ever after, written in blood.
So arrogant. So insufferable. And utterly, catastrophically unhinged.
“I’ve missed this,” Adrian rasped, his dark eyes burning into mine with an intensity that made my grip tighten on the knife handle. “I’ve missed you, wife.”
The word wife landed between us like a grenade. I hated it.
I loathed the way it sounded on his tongue. It wasn’t contractual obligation in the way he used the word, but it was a crazed possession and frighteninglytender.
“What is wrong with you?” I hissed.
Adrian’s eyes never left mine as he slowly raised his hand.
His fingers wrapped around my wrist, warm and steady, but he made no move to pull the blade away.
“A lot of things are wrong with me.” His voice dropped to a rough whisper.
“But I’d argue that my beautiful wife holding a knife to my throat is incredibly romantic, and there is nothing wrong with that. ”
Despite his hold on my wrist, I pressed the knife deeper into his flesh, and he let me. Another trickle of warm blood slipped beneath my blade. “You think I won’t kill you?”
His grin only widened. And I simply wanted to wipe it off his face.
“Oh, I know you can.” His chest rattled with a chuckle. “You’ve tried more than once already. I don’t doubt what you’re capable of, Princess.”
“You’re actually insane,” I whispered, my hand trembling against the knife’s handle.
“Perhaps,” he admitted, his thumb tracing small circles against my pulse point. “But there’s a certain beauty in madness when you stop fighting it.”
The blood from his wound continued its slow descent down his neck, the crimson trail disappearing beneath his collar. My stomach clenched at the sight, but I refused to release the knife.
“Why are you here? Why now?” I demanded, hating how my voice caught. “And what the hell is that?” I gestured with my free hand toward that thing still lying on the rug in my hotel room.
Adrian glanced down at it, then back at me, something unreadable flickering across his face.
“He touched you,” he said simply.
I blinked and then stammered through my words. “A-are you saying… this is the man…”
“The man you were dancing with?” He raised an eyebrow. “Yes, my dear wife.”
“How could you do such a thing?” My voice cracked. “He was innocent!”
His expression darkened. “Why are you so shocked? You danced with him knowing damn well what would happen afterward. You knew.” His grip on my wrist tightened slightly. “You orchestrated his death with your little stunt and now you’re pretending to be horrified. Drop the innocent act, Princess.”
My stomach twisted. “You really killed him?”
“I didn’t put a bullet in his heart, if that’s what you’re asking. That’s more your style.”
“Adrian!”
“I chopped his hands.” He rolled his eyes in the most pathetic, insolent way. “I’m sure he’ll survive.”
Adrian stepped closer, the movement pressing the knife deeper into his throat. I should have pulled back. I should have ended this dangerous game. Or maybe I should have just sliced his throat open.
I should have when I had the fucking chance…
His arm moved like a serpent striking, fast and precise.
It wrapped around my waist and yanked me forward at the same moment his grip on my wrist became iron, his fingers crushing into the delicate bones until white-hot pain lanced up my arm.
My fingers spasmed open. The knife clattered to the carpet with a dull sound.
I gasped. “You—”