Ruthless Monarch
She falls silent, seemingly paralyzed. The only way I know she’s still breathing is by the slight tremor in her hand that sits on top of the table.
“Viviana . . .”
As if pulled out of a hazy fog, she shakes her head, and her eyes focus on me again.
“My cousin Giana will be coming here today to help you with whatever you need. Food will be served shortly.” I stand and start to leave.
“You’re not staying to eat with me?” This time when she speaks, her voice sounds weaker than normal. As if it’s too exhausting for her to pretend to keep her walls up.
“No.”
“But I thought we had things to discuss.”
“I lied.”
“Seriously, Tyrant . . . you have nothing to say to me?”
“Sorry to disappoint you, Princess, but I don’t.”
Her mouth opens and shuts, mentally trying to think of a witty reply, but before she can say another word, I’m out the door.
6
Viviana
* * *
He left me.
I stare at the empty chair where Matteo was just sitting.
Before I can stew about it, the door opens, and a woman I’ve never seen before walks in. She doesn’t speak, just places a plate of food in front of me.
“Thank you,” I say, but she still doesn’t answer.
I shrug as my stomach growls.
Just my luck, the first woman, hell, the first person I’ve seen since getting here who’s not one of Matteo’s hitmen, and she still won’t give me the time of day.
I guess I’ll just eat in quiet.
Hunger hasn’t been on my mind recently. I wasn’t thinking about it at all, but now looking down at the plate filled with food, I realize just how starved I am.
I grab the fork and dig into the eggs in front of me. Next, I take a bite of a pancake.
It’s as if Matteo didn’t know what I liked to eat and had his cook make me one of every breakfast dish.
I would think it was thoughtful gesture if he wasn’t such a dick.
Too bad he has to be so damn good-looking. It would be easier if he wasn’t attractive.
I’d be able to come up with a plan without my blood pressure rising. Not just because of his looks but also because he’s infuriating.
Earlier today when I left the room and bumped into him, I thought I would stop breathing.
He had no shirt on.
His chest had a light gleam of sweat on it.
And his abs.
Oh Lord . . .
There are no words to describe those.
I stuff another bite of food in my mouth.
Yep. This would be so much easier if he was ugly. Then I wouldn’t be lusting after my soon-to-be husband in a way that just seems pathetic right now with how big of an asshole he’s been.
If only I could find a way out of this mess, then I wouldn’t have to worry that I’m going to melt into a puddle every time he is near me.
Even thinking about this now has my cheeks warming.
I feel warm and feverish, which definitely means I’m blushing.
At least no one is here to see me.
I’m almost done with my eggs when I hear the sound of heels.
Shit.
Looking up, I see a beautiful woman approaching me. She has long brown hair and green eyes. Eyes very familiar to Matteo’s, so this must be his cousin.
“Viviana, I’m Giana.” She reaches her hand out, and I shake it.
“Hi. I’m Viviana.”
“I know.” She laughs as she drops my hand and gestures to the table. “Are you finished?”
I look down at my plate, then back at her and nod.
There’s not very much left, and truth be told, I’m stuffed.
“Okay, good, because my cousin seems to think I’m a miracle worker and can get a wedding together in one day.”
Surprisingly, I laugh at that. I didn’t expect her to talk like that about Matteo, but then I think about her words. I swear I actually gulp when the implication of them hits me.
“What do we have to get ready? It’s just going to be him and me . . . right?”
She laughs again. “Oh, God no.”
“What do you mean?”
“The whole family will be there. That’s the hard part. Trying to pull off the impossible. Trying to make it look like this isn’t a spur-of-the-moment event.”
“Why?”
“Matteo Amante doesn’t just marry anyone.”
“But my family won’t be there. Won’t that look strange?”
“No. Most everyone of importance knows why he’s marrying you.”
I want to scream but know I can’t. I don’t know why I even care that everyone knows it’s a sham marriage. I just do.
“I didn’t mean that to be offensive. Sorry if it came out that way, but in this family, no one marries for love. Him marrying a governor’s daughter makes sense.”
My head drops, strands of hair covering my eyes. It’s like a protective shield right now. One I need. “I can’t marry him,” I admit as I look back up at her.