Part 11:

He shook his head slowly like she amused him. You really are a handful, aren’t you? His thumb steadied her chin. I’m marrying Isabella. That doesn’t mean I’ve decided what to do with her maid. She caught his wrist and pushed his hand away from her face. That’s enough. I’m fine. She got up and paced the small floor, anger driving every step.

And if your men hurt Isabella, no one moves without my word. He stretched out on the bed, set his back against the pillow, watching her wear a path across the stone. They’re loyal. They wait. She kept pacing up and back, too wound to stop. Enough. His voice followed her. Come sit down. She shot him a look. You’ve already taken the bed, I see.

He rose unhurried, every line of him caught in the low light, the bare chest, the cut shoulders, the bandage riding his side. I can be a savage, just not with women. She tried not to look and looked anyway. He stood there too still, too at home in his own skin, and that made looking away harder than it should have been.

She dropped onto the edge of the bed, keeping her eyes off him. Are you planning to walk around like that all night? He picked the ruined shirt up off the mattress and turned it over. White cotton gone red across every inch. Looks that way, Anita. One corner of his mouth tipped up. I’ll do my best not to distract you too much.

At the fridge, he checked the dates on the protein bars, then tossed them back with a quiet disgust. The crackers had gone stale in their wrappers. The vacuum-packed meal had swollen and turned. Veto hides from his enemies in a stone bunker and can’t keep food alive for one night. Then he saw the wine. Four bottles on the floor.

A low breath left him almost amused. Veto, old friend. He lifted one by the neck. No whiskey. His eyes came back to her. We’ll suffer through Veto’s taste. Then Isabella lay back against the pillow and watched him work the cork, watched him fill a plastic cup he dug out of a drawer. You know, he held the cup without passing it to her, turning it slow in the light.

One bad night tells you more than 10 good years. OS turned the cup in his hand, and a small smile caught at one corner of his mouth. So you’re curious about me, Anita? Yes. She kept her eyes on him. Who are you really? Are you as dirty as you look? Were you always like this? He ran his tongue across his teeth and shook his head.

Clean isn’t a word men like me get to use. His jaw shifted, but Veto Ki doesn’t get dirty himself. He sends other people into the dirt for him. Isabella watched him closely, her teeth working at her lower lip. She’d always known her father bent the law, but dirty was something past breaking a few rules, and she wasn’t sure she was ready to hear how far past.

He brought his gaze up to her. Trade, that’s what I do. Smuggling sometimes, but never the kind that hurts people. He set the cup down on his knee. The kind men pretend they’re too clean to need. She leaned back against the wall. Smuggling what? I’m not handing you my books made. Something dry moved through his voice. But it’s a family business.

His focus drifted for a second to something past her. I move goods, Anita. I move money. I move power. I don’t move children. I don’t touch women who don’t choose this life. I don’t sell a partner and call it strategy. The last line came out rougher than the rest, and she caught it.

The small drop in his voice, the way the words snagged on something he didn’t name. He covered it fast. Veto did. She didn’t know what sat under those two words, but she felt the weight of them, and she changed direction before he could see her looking too hard. You threatened to marry a woman you don’t know. She tilted her head at him.

Have you ever made a vow you actually meant? He showed his teeth when he smiled. So I do get under your skin, Anita. Then the smile settled. This isn’t a vow. It’s a move. He tipped the last of his cup back and looked at her. Now it’s your turn. Where did you grow up? Here. Her fingers tightened around the cup. In Malta.

The quiet stretched until he filled it. And she drank down what was left. My father worked the marina for Ki. He kept his attention on her. And that bought you the house. She met the question without blinking. It bought me a place in it. For a moment he studied her. You could have chosen a different life.

Why stay here? Are you happy? Happy is not the word. She turned the empty cup once in her hand. Useful is. His eyes didn’t leave her. That sounded like a woman describing a cage. She made her voice light like it cost her nothing. People don’t choose what saves them. They choose what they know. He held her in that gaze a few seconds too long, long enough that she felt it everywhere.

She dropped her eyes from his, and the heat climbing into her cheeks gave her away before she could stop it. She didn’t understand why he was looking at her like that, and she hated that she couldn’t hold steady through it. Aos pushed to his feet. Does the shower work? She stared up at him. Why? Because I’m not spending 12 hours smelling like blood and limestone.

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