Husband

by Penelope Sky

  One man made notes on his paper, while Charles and Tim spoke about golfing this weekend. It wasn’t Sofia’s fault this was happening. For several decades, they’d been dealing with authoritative men, and Sofia was a poor substitute in their eyes. She belonged at home, taking care of the cooking and cleaning.

  Sofia had never had a chance to be successful…not on her own.

  “Charles.” I stopped at the head of the table, making my presence known. “Tim.” I stared at them both for a few seconds, my irritated tone conveying my displeasure at the situation. “Gentlemen, maybe you haven’t heard the news yet, but Sofia has agreed to be my wife. After this Saturday, you will address her as Mrs. Lombardi.”

  Sofia didn’t cop an attitude like she normally would.

  “We had no idea,” Charles said. “Congratulations.”

  I buttoned the front of my jacket. “Thank you.”

  “Does that mean you’ll be running the hotel from now on?” Tim asked, unable to mask his eagerness.

  “No. My fiancée can do a much better job than I ever could.” All she wanted was her family’s legacy, to take pride in her work. Her gender had made that impossible, but that was all about to change. “If anyone has a problem with that, I suggest you sell your stake in the company and excuse yourself. Otherwise, your family can inherit your share instead. Do we have an understanding, gentlemen?” They knew exactly what I was capable of, and death threats weren’t handed out as jokes. I’d killed men for much less. I scanned the faces of every single one of them, seeing them go rigid as my threat seeped deep into their bones. “I asked you a question.”

  “Yes,” Charles barked.

  Tim straightened in his chair and pivoted his body toward Sofia.

  One by one, they took their attention off me and focused on my fiancée at the front. With eager eyes, they waited for her to continue her presentation.

  I crossed my arms over my chest and looked at the beautiful woman standing at the front, so sexy in her jeans and blouse that it was hard to take her seriously. How could a woman so stunning be so intelligent? Be a strong leader for a company as big as this? But she could. I had no doubt about it.

  Now Sofia could witness my influence firsthand, how I could step into a room and make shit happen. If she had cold feet about marrying me, I was sure those doubts disappeared. I could give her exactly what she wanted.

  She gave me a slight nod then turned back to what she’d been saying before I’d stepped inside.

  Like I’d never been there at all, I walked out.

  I sat on the balcony and watched the sunset. A bottle of wine sat in the ice bucket, and there was a single red rose in the small vase in the center of the table. I was in a black t-shirt and jeans, my muscular arms stretching the fabric. She liked me in a suit, but I knew she preferred this dressed-down look, where my ripped physique was truly noticeable. If it weren’t completely inappropriate, I would be naked.

  Helena let Sofia into the bedroom a moment later.

  She was in jean shorts and a black tank top, choosing to go casual too. At work, she dressed more formally, but this look was much sexier. The shorts went all the way up to her thighs, showing off her sculpted muscles and her tanned skin. Her curled hair hung down her shoulders, and her black tank top showed off her nice cleavage and her flat stomach.

  Fuck. I could picture her in just that tank top, getting fucked with her ankles locked around my waist.

  She stepped onto the balcony, her posture rigid like she was recalling the last time she’d been there. She probably noticed the bed had been changed out and that some of the furniture in the room had been replaced. She looked at the splashes of color in the sky before she took a seat.

  I didn’t get up and greet her, and I didn’t make small talk either. It was nice that we didn’t have to do that, that we could survive the heated silence without getting unnerved by it. I opened the wine and poured two glasses right before Helena came outside and dropped off the appetizers.

  When she left, Sofia spoke. “I’m glad Helena is still here.”

  “I’ll never let her go.”

  “I guess it’s something for me to look forward to…”

  Among other things.

  She placed a few pieces of bruschetta on her plate before she took a small bite, the bread crunching under her small teeth. She washed it down with a sip of wine.

  Hypnotized, I stared at the beautiful woman across from me, feeling the desperation roar inside my chest. I’d never been infatuated with a woman like this, so obsessed that I could barely think straight. I’d been with beautiful women all around the world, but none of them compared to Sofia Romano. Her perfect skin, her full lips, that dark hair…I wanted all of it. I’d wanted her since the moment I saw her, and I never stopped.

  When she grew uncomfortable by my stare, she looked away. “Thank you for what you did today. I wish I could handle it all on my own, but you definitely made my life a lot easier.”

  “I’ll fix all your problems. That’s my job.”

  “But I wish it weren’t your job…” Her eyes filled with self-loathing, like she’d lost self-respect because she couldn’t control those assholes.

  “It’s not you, Sofia. It’s just the way men are.”

  “If only that weren’t true…”

  “It doesn’t matter now. They’ll be easy to work with from now on.”

  “Couldn’t I just get rid of them?” she asked. “I hate having to answer to someone. I want to do what I want without needing approval.”

  “Since they invested in the company, you could only accomplish that by buying them out.”

  “Okay…could I do that?”

  “Yes. But it’d cost you a lot of money.”

  Her gaze drifted away as she considered it. “I hope someday I can make that happen. I could run that place entirely on my own and cut ties with all the weasels my family has associated with.”

  That was unwise. Those relationships had been built over decades. It’d be stupid to mess with the structure, to provoke the underworld. “The hotel has been successful for several decades. I wouldn’t change anything if you want it to remain successful.”

  She took another bite of her bruschetta. She seemed a lot calmer around me, probably because I’d done her a huge favor without her even having to ask me. I’d proven my worth to her, and now she realized how useful I could be.

  I could be really useful in the bedroom too…which she already knew. “Is your mother going to give you away?” I couldn’t wait to see her in her wedding dress, to see how beautiful she was as she glided toward me. I wanted the world to be envious of me, to watch the most stunning woman in the world agree to be my wife.

  “Yes.” Her eyes moved back to mine. “So…most of my stuff is already here.”

  “Helena hung up your clothes.”

  She glanced through the open doors even though the closet wasn’t visible. “Will I be getting my own room?”

  Silence was my answer.

  “You expect me to sleep in here every night?”

  “I expect you to do other things here every night.”

  She shifted her gaze away once more. “I think I need my own space…at least sometimes.”

  “No. We’re husband and wife. We sleep together.”

  “What happened to compromise?”

  “Your compromises push us apart. Give me a constructive compromise, and I’ll consider it.” She wanted to keep her last name. She wanted to sleep in different rooms. “I know you’ll never love me, but I command your loyalty, commitment, and friendship. I need to trust you the way I trust Damien. You need to feel the same way about me. So, let me be your husband. Stop trying to half-ass this.”

  “I’m not. It’s just a big change and—”

  “Get over it.” My coldness froze the summer air around us. “On Saturday night, you will be my wife. You will behave like my wife. You will come to our home, and you will fuck me like my wife.”

  She didn’
t appreciate what I said, but she didn’t argue with me either. “This is exactly what I didn’t want…to be owned by someone.”

  “That’s too bad. I own you. But trust me, you’re going to like it.” My goal had been to get between her legs tonight. Instead, I was pissing her off and pushing her away. I’d always been a dick, but right now wasn’t the best time to behave that way.

  She turned her view to the city, which had become darker with every passing minute. Soon, only the nighttime would surround us.

  Helena set dinner in front of us before she walked away.

  Sofia hardly looked at her food. “You said you would tell me about yourself.”

  I took a long drink of my wine. “What do you want to know?”

  “You’ve never told me about your family.”

  “Not much to tell.”

  She picked up her fork and took a few bites, but I suspected she was just doing it to be polite. Our conversation made her sick, made her angry at me, but also forced her to respect me at the same time. A woman like her wouldn’t want to marry a gentleman. She needed a monster. “Are your parents still alive?”

  Even after all these years, it was still difficult for me to talk about. I’d be honest with her because this would be the deepest relationship I would ever have with anyone. She would be my wife, be closer to me than even Damien was. “My mother is. My father is gone.”

  “I’m sorry about your father,” she said. “It’s rough…”

  “Yeah.” I felt sick to my stomach just thinking about it. My breathing increased, and I could feel my pulse in my neck.

  “Are you close with your mother?”

  “No.” My fingers rested against my bottom lip as I looked across the city, admiring the lights from the church.

  “May I ask why?”

  “Because she doesn’t remember me.”

  Sofia stiffened in her chair, her eyes slowly showing understanding. “I’m sorry.”

  “She’s in a home in town. I stopped visiting her because it felt pointless.”

  “Jesus…” She set down her fork. “That’s terrible, Hades.”

  “Hades isn’t my real name.” Confessions spilled out of my mouth without restraint. “But I’d rather not say what my real name is.”

  “Why?”

  “That’s not who I am anymore.”

  She left it alone. “Well…if you ever change your mind, I’d like to know.”

  I probably wouldn’t.

  “How old were you when your father passed away?”

  “Twenty-six.”

  “At least you had a long time with him. Were you close?”

  “No. Not at all.”

  “Oh…” Dinner was abandoned because our conversation took hold of everything. “I can tell this makes you really uncomfortable, so we don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to. You can share as much or as little with me as you want. It doesn’t change my decision to marry you.”

  “It might.”

  Her green eyes showed fear because she took me seriously.

  “I killed him.” I couldn’t meet her gaze as I confessed my sins, as I told her I’d killed my own flesh and blood. I’d aimed right between his eyes and pulled the trigger. It had to be done…but it’d haunted me ever since.

  She was speechless. What else could she be?

  “I have an older brother. We don’t speak.” Mentioning my brother seemed anticlimactic after what I’d said about my father.

  She was still quiet, clearly in shock. “Why would you do that?”

  “I didn’t have a choice.”

  “What does that mean?” she whispered.

  I’d invited her over in the hope of rekindling our physical relationship. Obviously, that wasn’t going to happen at this point. I’d have to wait until Saturday. “Ever since I was young, my father has been a human trafficker. He captured vulnerable girls from all over the world and forced them to work in whorehouses. Sometimes he sold them to men who turned them into slaves. It wasn’t until I was much older that I understood what he was doing.”

  Her hand covered her mouth.

  “When I realized what he was doing, I asked him to stop. He refused. I turned my cheek for the longest time until he took a woman I knew. I confronted him, asked him again to stop, and when he didn’t…I shot him.” I took a deep breath before I continued. “I thought that ended the organization altogether, but my brother picked up the pieces. He runs the operation to this day—and he hates me for what I did. And to be honest…I hate myself for what I did.” I stared at the ground because the guilt had been eating me alive for the last five years. I did what I thought was right, but it’d been haunting me ever since.

  I killed my own father.

  If he were another man, I wouldn’t have felt bad about it. But I’d committed a deadly sin. The operation was still running, so the murder didn’t make a difference. I already had my father’s blood on my hands; I couldn’t stand holding my brother’s too. “Damien is the only family I have. He’s the only friend I have. I’ve done a lot of other terrible things in my life, but that’s definitely the worst thing I’ve ever done. So…now you know me.”

  There wasn’t much talking after that, especially since she didn’t ask any more personal questions. She seemed to have had enough of me. Her dinner was untouched, and the candle in the center of the table eventually burned out. We sat together in the darkness.

  There were times when I wanted to justify my actions, but I knew it didn’t make a difference. I killed my own flesh and blood, the man who raised me, who took care of me until I became an adult. We disagreed on a lot of things, and I should have just let it be. That night still tortured me.

  And I wondered if that was why the universe was punishing me.

  I killed my father…so I didn’t deserve the love of this woman.

  That was fair.

  When it became late and the conversation remained stale, I got to my feet and prepared to walk her out. “I’ll walk you to your car.”

  She stayed in the chair a moment longer, her mind elsewhere. When she pushed herself up and faced me, there was a new look in her eyes, a complex web of emotions I couldn’t even begin to describe. She was clearly about to say something to me, possibly yank that ring off her finger and call the whole thing off.

  But the gypsy said Sofia would marry me, so I didn’t think that was likely.

  “I’ve been trying to think of something to say for the last hour. I’ve still come up with nothing.” Her green eyes shifted back and forth as she looked into mine, her full lips sagging in a slight frown.

  “You don’t need to say anything.” I was a horrible human being—message received.

  “But I do.” She moved into me, getting closer than she’d been in a long time. Anytime she interacted with me, there was an invisible line she wouldn’t cross. There were always at least three feet in between us.

  Now there were nearly none.

  Her hand moved to my arm, her thumb resting in the crease of my elbow. “You were trying to do the right thing, and I admire you for that. Most men wouldn’t have cared about those girls, but you did. That makes me want to marry you…and not because I have to.”

  My heart started to race inside my chest, started to bounce against my rib cage. She was the only woman on this planet who could do that, who could change my heart rate, who could raise the temperature like she had a thermostat in her pocket. It was hard to stare at the sincerity in her gaze and not grab her by the hair and kiss her. I wanted to marry her now, to take her to bed and make her feel the same way.

  “I can tell it kills you inside that you did what you had to do, but don’t let it destroy you. If it were another man, you wouldn’t have hesitated to kill him. Just because he’s your father doesn’t mean he deserved special treatment.”

  That decision had ruined my life, acted as a catalyst for all the other bad shit that had come after. It didn’t matter how many times I confessed to a priest, I never felt vin
dicated for my sins. I should have found another way to end the operation. I should have kept my father alive. I should still have a relationship with my brother. I should love a woman who loved me in return. “It doesn’t matter if my actions were justified. He was my father…” I was grateful my mother didn’t have her mind long enough to know what I did.

  “What he did was way worse than what you did.”

  “He didn’t kill anyone.”

  She squeezed my arm. “There are worse things than dying.” Her fingers slowly released me, and she pulled away. “You and I have our differences. I’ve chosen to stay in the dark in regard to your criminal affairs. But this makes me see you with new eyes…makes me proud to call you my husband.”

  I closed my eyes because I didn’t deserve her praise. “It’s still going on…”

  “But you did everything you could to stop it.”

  “I killed someone, and it made no difference at all. Don’t misunderstand me—I want your praise. I want you to take off all your clothes and kiss me to make me forget. But I don’t deserve it. What I did was unforgivable, and I’ve been punished for it ever since.”

  “By whom?”

  I looked into her eyes and almost considered telling her the truth, telling her that all of this was preordained. Neither one of us had any say in the future. I didn’t know why her future had to be intertwined with mine, why she couldn’t fall in love with someone and get married. Why did she have to be a pawn in my punishment? Or was being unconditionally loved by a man who would die to protect her a good thing? “By me.”

  “How do you feel?”

  I sat in the chair with a scotch in my hand. The liquor killed the nerves, but that wasn’t why I drank so much of it. Today was an exception. I was thrilled to be getting the woman I wanted, but I was dismayed by the price I’d paid for it.