A Thousand Cuts (Underworld Kings)
I didn’t think he would do something as ordinary as grill in public.
But this man was not a god.
I needed to remember that.
People were avoiding me. I wasn’t sure if it was out of fear, dislike or weariness. Maybe a mixture of the three. Again, something I liked. Small talk at large gatherings was something I abhorred.
Sofia was not fearful of me, though. Nor did she dislike me. But she was still weary. Because she was smart. I hadn’t thought she’d overtly come out and say it, but I learned I was mistaken when she came to stand beside me, the only one brave enough to let her eyes run over the entirety of my outfit with a raised brow. Not in reproach but in something else. Maybe approval.
Or maybe not.
“My husband did not approve of the way this engagement came about,” Sofia informed me, watching the men at the grill.
I watched them too, the act of grilling far too ... normal for Cristian. Too domestic. And, inexplicably ... a huge fucking turn on.
“I did, though,” Sofia added, capturing my attention.
I turned to meet her eyes, the irises almost violet. They were sharp, knowing. Cunning. If she needed to, she’d order me killed and wouldn’t lose a moment’s sleep over it. She was a true mafia queen. If I survived all of this, I had a lot to learn from this woman.
“A wife who’d chosen this life, who had chosen Cristian, would be too dangerous. Could ruin him, if she was that kind of woman.”
Sofia let silence hang between us purposefully before she continued.
“Which is why I’ve spent a long time pushing the wrong kind of women on him. Because they would serve their purpose and wouldn’t put him in danger.” She lifted her wine glass to her lips, taking a long swallow from her drink. “Him taking charge, forcing a woman to marry him under threat, that was safe,” she eyed me quizzically. “I thought you would hate him forever. Most women would.”
Her eyes bore into me. No longer soft. No longer warm.
“But you are not most women,” she murmured. “It seems, by accident of fate or by design, you are the one woman who my beloved Cristian can love. I see that clearly. And no matter how much you try to protest it, you love him too.”
The blow landed squarely in my chest, and it took everything I had to keep my expression even. This woman was dangerous, and I wanted to make it clear she wasn’t rattling me. I gripped the stem of my glass with such force I was surprised it didn’t shatter in my hand.
“Cristian is reasonable when it comes to all things,” she continued. “Heartless even. Ruthless. As the Don must be. But he is relentless when it comes to you.”
She paused, letting her words wash over me, let them unsettle me as she’d designed them to. She used the hiatus to retrieve a cigarette and light it. A power move. One I appreciated.
“There is going to be a point when this life takes something from you,” she said, taking a long inhale. “In that moment, you will want to destroy everything.” She waved her hand, the one with the cigarette, toward the lavish gardens, the people drinking, eating, stealing glances in our direction. “You will want to burn it all to the ground. So will he.” Her eyes flickered back to the grill and the low rumble of male laughter.
It had to be Vincentius, since I hadn’t heard Cristian laugh. Ever.
Then again, he hadn’t heard me laugh either. It was not going to be a joy-filled marriage, it seemed. I was glad about that. It would be much too simple and not at all fulfilling.
“Your love endangers this family, and I will do everything in my power to protect this family. At all costs.” She turned her penetrating eyes to me again. “You surely understand by now that this is a man’s world.” She grinned. “On the surface, at least. A smart woman understands that she can rule through love. She can twist it to her will.”
I looked away from Sofia, unable to hold her gaze. Instead, I looked back toward the garden, to my fiancé. I almost recoiled when my eyes met Cristian’s, yet I was able to catch myself. He was watching us with a visceral intensity. Protective. Unyielding.
I couldn’t decipher everything in his gaze, but surely it wasn’t love. He wasn’t capable.
“I have the love of my husband,” Sofia continued. “Cristian, I think of as a son.” She reached out to squeeze my hand. The gesture was not meant to be comforting.
“I will think of you as a daughter too,” she added. “For as long as you have the best interests of this family at heart.” Her eyes went to Cristian, still watching us. “And if you find out you don’t have them at heart, I will be your worst enemy. I will not rest until you are dead.”