Chapter 167

About an hour later, after making Lucy and Bianca their plates and cleaning up the kitchen, I’m doing as instructed. Laying in bed, staring at the ceiling, a full glass of wine on the bedside table. The television is on – but honestly, I have no idea what is even playing. I have no real interest in it.

No, apparently the only thing the television is giving me right now is a series of changing colored lights on the ceiling as fictional people live out their fictional dramas.

As I contemplate my own very real life.

And even as I repeat Christian’s phrases over and over again in my head – that good things are coming, that Christian is building a better world, that these people he had killed were threatening our lives…

God, something within me still sinks. Like a rock, to the bottom of a very deep pond. A lake, maybe an ocean.

I just…know that it’s not right. In the depths of me, I know that something’s wrong with this world in which I’ve found myself somehow, mysteriously, a queen.

I sigh, and reach for my warming wine, taking a sip of it before place it back on the bedside table as I close my eyes, snuggling down into Christian’s incredibly soft – probably incredibly expensive – sheets. It’s late, I know – and I should get some sleep. But my mind is too…weary somehow, but also simultaneously taught as a string. I grit my teeth, knowing that I couldn’t sleep if I tried.

The door creeks open and my eyelids flick upwards immediately as I turn my head towards the sound. The silhouette that fills the door – I’d know it anywhere. But no smile finds my lips.

Christian sighs. “You’re still up?”

“Couldn’t sleep.” My murmured reply is soft, but I know he can hear it.

Christian sighs again and moves to the huge walk-in closet on the other side of the room which I’ve already explored – and which I know holds thousands of dollars’ worth of very fine suits. But he doesn’t even look around at them as he strips down to his underwear, casually tossing everything into a hamper.

As he does, I flick off the TV and wonder, passively, who does the laundry here.

Me? Is it me? I’m his wife – and I’ve certainly got no other occupation besides homemaker.

But surely there are servants who have been hired to do that sort of work if someone even cooks all of the meals.

So, what the hell am I supposed to do all day if there’s no work to be done?

Christian exhales long and slow as he walks towards his side of the bed dressed only in his boxer briefs. And as he does, I’m not at all immune to the sight –

His body is tall, powerful, his muscles moving slow and smooth under his skin. As he raises his hand to run it through his dark hair, I find that I’ve forgotten completely to breathe. But Christian doesn’t notice that as he slips beneath the blankets, moving his body close to mine even as he stares at the ceiling, completely lost in his thoughts.

I hesitate only a moment before I move closer, resting my forehead against his shoulder and wrapping an arm around his, tucking my hand beneath the swell of his bicep.

Christian turns his face towards me, pressing a kiss to the top of my head. “I’m sorry, Iris,” he murmurs. “I didn’t mean to be gone so long, even if I did think you’d be asleep. And I’m…sorry that you can’t sleep.”

The words “it’s not your fault” come immediately to my tongue in my ever-present desire to make him feel calm, comfortable. But even as they do I hold them back, knowing that they’re a lie.

Christian sighs again and I lift my head up to look into his face.

“What can I do?” he murmurs. “To make it better?”

I resist, again, the urge to beg him to abandon this life and leave with me and start new somewhere else. It’s too late for that, and he’s made it quite clear that it’s not what he wants. So I frown a little, considering, wondering what the true answer is.

It takes a moment before I decide what I need.

“Tell me,” I whisper. “What’s coming next.”

Christian stays still for a moment before he nods, shifting and opening his arms to me before he begins. I accept the invitation, moving eagerly to press myself against his chest. He folds those arms warm around me as he begins.

“Tomorrow is a big day,” he murmurs. “I don’t think either of my brothers are going to pose a real risk – they don’t have the desire or the resources. But Elio’s going to be a challenge regardless – he’s…” Christian sighs for what I think is the fifth time since he got back to the room, and my heart goes out to him – I don’t like seeing him stressed. “Elio’s a dick.”

I laugh a little at the revelation, surprised myself by the sound. Christian smiles, turning to look at me.

“Are you surprised by that?” he asks.

I shrug. “I never thought about it much. Just…there aren’t a lot of nice people in your family, Chris. Nico’s a dick and he’s your favorite cousin, so if you’re describing Elio as a dick? He must be…something else.”

“Yeah,” Christian says, turning his face back to the ceiling and raising a hand to rub at the bridge of his nose. “I’ll do my best to keep you out of it, Iris. You’ll have to meet them, of course – maybe at dinner or something – somewhere civilized. But it’s not going to be pleasant – you should stay…away. Up here, preferably. Or the kitchen, for a little bit, if you can’t stand being cooped up.”

I nod, agreeing to it, even as I bite my lip and go tense at his side.

Christian frowns and turns to me. “What?” he asks. “You don’t like that idea?”

“Are you keeping me away because…it’s going to get violent?”

He purses his lips slightly. “Nico and I agree that we think it’s mostly going to be a lot of words and threats thrown around but…I can’t promise that it won’t get violent. Which is why I don’t want you there. Not this time – not anymore.”

I nod, staring at him, horrified by the idea.

But I don’t miss the words he uses – “this time” and “anymore.” As if…

As if this isn’t the end of it. That even if it doesn’t get violent tomorrow, it will again. That it’s not done – far from it.

My stomach turns but I do my best to keep my face calm as I look at my husband, not wanting to stress him out anymore.

“Come here, baby,” Christian murmurs, tightening his arms and pulling me closer to his chest. I move as close as I can, lining my body up against his, resting my head under his chin. Instantly, I feel his breathing deepen, like I’m the balm to his worries, the one thing he needs that brings calm to his world.

Warmth rushes through me at the thought of that – that I can play that role for Christian, be there for him in that way. But even as it does, I wonder…

I wonder how long I can handle it. Because if it’s not tomorrow that there’s more blood, and more death, and more violence in the pursuit of power…well, then when will it be?

And can I stand the wait? Or will I crack under the strain?

I stay up for hours, staring into the darkness after Christian drifts off, silently wondering if…if that world is ever coming. Or if it’s just a carrot on a stick – a better world that Christian has promised me but that may…may never come.

And if it never comes, that means that this is actually my world now. This violent, bloodthirsty, power-hungry world in which I am a captive, and bait, and a mafia wife whose role is to comfort her husband after he spends his days murdering the people who threaten his reign.

My eyes flutter shut at the horror of the idea because…as much as I love Christian? I’m not sure I can live that life.

In fact, I’m sure that I can’t.

Because I know it will break me.