Wife (Betrothed 1)

“Good. Thank you. I wish he would listen to me that way.”

I was a criminal and a murderer, but I wasn’t a liar. I hated pretending to be something I wasn’t…especially to her. I wanted to come clean because I wasn’t ashamed of who I was. I wasn’t ashamed of how I earned a living. But I didn’t want to scare her off either.

Unfortunately, if I ever wanted there to be a chance to keep her, I had to be straight with her. I couldn’t develop her trust with a lie. I couldn’t let her think I was someone else…and have feelings for that man instead of me. “Come over for dinner tonight.”

If this had been a couple weeks ago, she would have thrown a tantrum on the spot. But our intimacy had deepened, and so did her affection. She still insisted this was a short-term thing, but I was slowly getting her to see me in a different light, to give me a chance to be more than just a fuck buddy. When she smiled, I knew she was about to give me the answer I wanted to hear. “Sure.”

There were several dining tables in the house, but this one had the best view of the city. The top was a long piece of rustic mahogany, big enough to fit twelve grown men. I didn’t have meetings at my house often, but I needed something to take up the luxurious space.

Sofia wasn’t the kind of woman to talk too much. She didn’t need to ramble on to fill the silence, and she didn’t take the lack of conversation as an indication of our failed chemistry. She could sit there quietly, switching her gaze between me and her food. “Didn’t know you could cook.”

Because you don’t know anything about me. “I can do everything.”

“Everything? That’s quite a resume.”

We shared a bottle of white wine and picked at our food in silence. Overnight, I’d managed to manipulate this woman into being something she didn’t want to be. Now she was having dinner at my house with the intention of sleeping over. Weeks ago, that would have been impossible. I pushed her into a relationship she didn’t want to have.

Now I was about to blow it all.

It was enough to make me reconsider my decision. But I shouldn’t hide myself from any woman…even if she was the first woman I’d ever wanted. I was proud of the man I was, and I stood by every decision I’d ever made—even pushing a guy out the window. So I looked her in the eye and told her the truth. “I’m the biggest crystal distributor in the south of Europe. My territory includes all of Italy, Greece, and parts of Croatia.”

She’d just taken a drink of her wine, and she held her glass there as her throat shifted with the swallow. She slowly lowered it once more, watching me with a guarded expression.

“When I told you I operated a bank, that was the truth. I opened it years ago, and its main purpose is to launder money for me, as well as my associates.”

Her hands came together, and she continued to watch me silently, her green eyes reflecting the light from the suspended chandelier. Her palms gently rubbed past each other as her mind worked to understand everything I had said. “Why are you telling me this?”

“I want you to know who I am.” My fingertips rested on the stem of my glass, and I watched her with a rigid posture. She didn’t throw the bottle of wine at my head and storm off, so that was a good sign. But her lack of reaction was also concerning. She was either hollow inside…or had the best poker face in the world.

She grabbed her glass and took another drink.

My impatience started to make my fingers twitch.

When she returned it to the table, she licked her lips and looked at her food once more.

I’d lost control of the situation—and it drove me crazy. I had no idea what she was thinking, and that lack of information made my head spin. I couldn’t read her…I couldn’t feel her. I needed something from her, and it wasn’t readily available. “Do you have a problem with that?”

She crossed her arms and leaned against the high-backed chair. “No.”

No? She didn’t give a damn I was a criminal? “I don’t think you understand.”

“I’m only interested in you for one reason—so it doesn’t matter how you earn your fortune.”

Like a bullet to the heart, she pierced me all the way through. It was the most hurtful thing she could have said to me, that I meant so little to her that my job didn’t matter. This was going to end anyway—and soon.

“But I think Gustavo has the right to know. Tell him, or I will.”