I found the will to lure my husband into unprotected sex on the fifth day of our cold war.
With the end of my period, I woke up re-energized, eons before my two p.m. alarm, and spent an obnoxious amount of time prettying up, even shaving everything south of my chin.
Since our fight, Romeo had avoided me at all costs.
That ended now.
I arrived at the dining room with flourish, at six in the morning on the dot, knowing Romeo would be there after his five-mile run and ice-cold shower.
Truly, I should be the one wary of breeding with him. Weren’t psychopath genes hereditary?
When I tornadoed in, Romeo flipped his newspaper, a steaming cup of coffee to his lips.
I helped myself to a croissant, Vermont butter, and two Danishes from the pastry tray Hettie baked each morning. Then I slipped into the seat across from him.
Romeo didn’t look up from his paper. “Good morning, Shortbread. Am I hallucinating, or are you out of bed before three?”
“You’re definitely hallucinating.”
“Seeing as you swathed four fingers of butter on a single croissant, I don’t think I am. This is too you to be a mirage.” He closed the paper and folded it in crisp squares by his side. “Are you feeling better?”
“Yes, no thanks to you.”
He set his coffee down. “Believe it or not, I intended to check on you this weekend if you hadn’t shown your face by then.”
I rested a hand over my heart. “And they say romance is dead.”
“Romance is dead. Dating apps killed it years ago. You’re the only one who still believes in it. I’m half worried you spend unholy amounts of time watching Ghostbusters in the event that you encounter a ghost.”
I wolfed down my croissant in two bites. “I want you to entertain me today.”
For a reason unbeknownst to me, I knew he’d humor me. He always gave me some kind of version of what I wanted without fail.
He finished his coffee. “I can visit your room at the end of the day, should my schedule permit—provided you loosen your intercourse rule.”
“I meant during the daytime.”
“And what of the pesky thing that is my work?”
“So, take me to work.”
“No, thank you.”
“I wasn’t asking.”
“I wasn’t offering.” There was a pause. He used it to exhale, so as not to strangle me. “Not today. There’s an arms demo, and I’m required to be there. It’s dangerous.”
“I like danger.”
“And I like you in one piece.” As an afterthought, he added, “As one of my most expensive possessions, of course. You cost hundreds of thousands of dollars to maintain. Per month.”
“I’m coming to work with you today.”
“No.”
I pouted, rolling a lock of hair around my finger. “You know what happens when I’m bored.”
I was, of course, being deliberately petulant, knowing it ground his gear.
My reflection shined through his dead shark eyes. In it, the past several months played out. The amount of crap we’d put each other through.
Ultimately, though, Romeo never feared my bad behavior. And this time, his intentions flashed across his forehead.
A concession for a concession.
What a foolish thought.
Naturally, I hoped he continued thinking it.
We stalled at an impasse.
Finally, he stood, checking his Rolex. “I’ll send Jared to pick you up at noon. The demo takes place on a tarmac outdoors. Expect wind, chill, mud, and a healthy dose of discomfort. Don’t wear anything to attract attention, including and especially high heels. While there, you will not leave my side, you will not wander around, and you will not do anything that is not in the instruction manual I’ll email you after I leave.”
“Okay, Zaddy,” I purred.
“If you behave, which I greatly doubt, we could go for a late lunch afterward. Do not make me regret this, Shortbread.”
I shot up, punching the air. “I won’t!”
He shook his head, draped his blazer over his forearm, and strode out. Could’ve sworn I heard him mutter, “I already am.”
Maybe Romeo needed to better define what an outfit that doesn’t attract attention meant.
Because when I sashayed from the Maybach through the endless tarmac, he did not look impressed.
And by not impressed, what I meant was, he’d gladly shove me off a cliff should one zip within his line of sight.
It marked the first time I’d seen fire in his eyes, and that fire wished to burn me to death.
If you asked me, there was nothing wrong with my strappy black mini dress. The tiny patches of sheer nylon that covered my modesty could only be described as high fashion.
I wore five-inch Louboutin boots to complete the look—and so Romeo wouldn’t tower over me completely. The patent leather stretched up my legs, cutting off midway at my thighs.
Nestled in the outskirts of Alexandria, dozens of uniformed men milled around the asphalt, where a house-sized Humvee had parked. And all of them were looking at me, mouths ajar, eyes glazed over.
I swung my hips as I cat-walked to my husband, his father, and his nemesis. They stood beside a helicopter with noise-canceling earmuffs, eyes pinned to me.
I supposed I’d achieved my goal of reminding Romeo how desired his wife was, considering every man I passed undressed me with his eyes.
The sunny smile on my face only hardened Romeo’s glare. He tore his muffs off, shoving them into Cara’s hands.
Senior studied my cleavage like he’d lost his car keys inside it. Beside him, Bruce looked ready to volunteer as tribute and dig for them.
The helicopter’s blades whisked air around us.
Still, I heard Senior crystal-clear through the roar. “What is she doing?”
“Making sure I lock her in a cell until she hits menopause.” Romeo had already started for me, even outpacing the wind dancing between us.
We met halfway on the runway. My skin blossomed with awareness, knowing we held every eye in a one-mile radius.
“Hey, hubs.” I laced my arms around his neck, rising in my heels to give him a kiss.
His mouth was cold and unresponsive as it covered my lips. I darted my tongue across the seam then sucked the lower one into my mouth.
He refused to budge. “You look like a slut.”
The word cut off my air supply, rendering me dizzy. I lost my balance, almost tripping if it weren’t for his hand on my back.
He’d never called me that before.
Not even when I’d thrust my genitals in his face, demanding to be satisfied, which occurred daily.
The Romeo I knew did not view sexually liberated women as sinful. Something had triggered him.
Or maybe you are trying to excuse his toxic masculinity.
His expression remained as hard and unrelenting as his shoulders. “That was your intention, was it not?”
I hated that my argument died before it could gestate, grow limbs, and strangle him to death. To be fair, I’d seen pornstars screwed in lingerie with more fabric than my dress.
If the wind blew the wrong way, every man in the vicinity would enjoy an open view of my breasts.
And there was a lot of men in the vicinity.
Plenty of wind, too.
“Fine. If you want me to treat you like one, congratulations. I’ll let you be my little slut.”
I tore away from him, wounded and feverish. Even at the height of our hatred, he’d never dared speak to me like that. There’d always been an undercurrent of respect.
There wasn’t now.
He advanced, searing his hand on my waist until I thought my bones would char to dust. His lips dragged across my cheek, settling on the shell of my ear.
“Get on your knees, take out my cock, and jerk me off until I come all over your ‘outfit.’ Go ahead. Do it.”
My left knee buckled on instinct, but I forced myself to remain upright.
Brutal wind lashed at us. The curls I’d worked so hard on earlier whipped around us like blades of a blender.
I was distinctly aware that the only thing keeping my nipples from the eyes of every man here was the nervous sweat that glued the tiny scrap covering them to my skin.
If only I had the guts, I’d call his bluff. Lower to my knees. Take him into my mouth in front of all his employees.
But I didn’t.
Instead, I rooted to the ground, afraid I’d topple if I moved, yet knowing Romeo would never let me fall.
“That’s what I thought, Shortbread.” His fingers coasted just beneath my dress, digging into my thigh. “I’m going to burn this outfit to the fucking ground, along with everything else I find unsuitable, as soon as I arrive home tonight. Guess you’ll be free of me after all.”
“Free?” My mouth dried. I didn’t want that at all. Quite the opposite. “Where are you going?”
“Jail.”
“What?”
“Where else would I land after I rip out the eyes of every man who used them to undress you?”
Searching his face for sarcasm, all I found was crisp blankness and a warning of what was to come.
Across the tarmac, the car beckoned me, inviting me to flee. But I refused to lose face in front of his father and colleagues. I’d never give Romeo the satisfaction.
“Aww.” I brushed invisible lint from his suit. “Scared I’ll run off with a real man? Maybe one without daddy issues the size of Viet Nam?” I ignored his hard glare. “Did I say Viet Nam? Too small. I meant China.”
“Watch your mouth.” He plowed his fingers into my hair in what might’ve looked like a tender caress from afar, but there was no mistaking the warning in his tug. “Or tonight, I’ll fuck it so hard you won’t be able to eat for a week.”
His words shouldn’t have dampened my panties.
They did, nonetheless.
More than anything, I was pathetically glad he still wasn’t done with me.
I pasted on a smile. “Try and put your dick in my mouth, baby. I’ll bite it off and fulfill your wish to never have kids in this lifetime.”
“Dallas, honey.” Senior waved a hand for me to join him. “Come on. We’re about to start the drill. You don’t want to miss this thing of beauty.”
I hurried to him, mainly so I could escape Romeo before I lost it.
When I reached Senior, he kissed my cheek, handing me plastic glasses. “I hope my son isn’t giving you too much trouble.”
Bruce forked over noise-canceling earmuffs. “Junior can be a bit immature.”
I turned away, trying to focus on the Humvee. Khaki-colored, with wheels big enough to flatten a strip mall, and probably paid for by my tax dollars.
Well, Romeo’s tax dollars.
Perks of unemployment.
Senior gestured to the vehicle. “We’re the sole contractors for the U.S. Army’s eight prototype Humvees. This is our latest creation.” He planted a hand on Bruce’s forearm for balance. “We produce over twenty thousand Humvees a year, but none are half as sophisticated as this baby right here. The HMWWV3.”
I could think of a catchier name, but it probably wasn’t my place to suggest a marketing overhaul. Plus, weapons tended to sell themselves without the help of jingles and radio ads.
I nodded and glared at the machine-gun mount, channeling all my efforts into ignoring the prior showdown. I’d never been as humiliated as today.
Just when we’d approached some kind of a ceasefire, too.
I forced myself to focus, refusing to search for Romeo. “What’s so special about it?”
“Glad you asked.” Senior laced his arm with mine and approached the Kevlar door, his steps uneven and weak. “The battlefield glass is resistant enough to survive a direct hit. It’s also lightweight. Our fastest Humvee to date. It can carry triple the military equipment of our competitors and includes shock absorbers capable of withstanding most ballistic missiles.”
“Oh.”
Lovely contribution, Dal. What next? A dissertation?
What I really wanted to know was where Romeo went. It struck me as bizarre that he’d miss out on any opportunity to trample Bruce in front of his father.
We stopped before a row of men, adorned in a uniform of black fatigues, protective glasses, and helmets. All four blinked back at me like I’d just paid them a visit straight from space.
Maybe I did go a little overboard with the outfit.
Still, Romeo’s outburst was completely uncalled for.
Senior gestured to the man closest to the Humvee. “This is Matthew Krasinski, one of our top engineers. Matt, this is my daughter-in-law, Dallas.”
Matt reached for my hand. “Pleasure.”
I shook it, eyes darting everywhere in search of Romeo again. I couldn’t find him anywhere. Panic overtook me.
Was this the straw that broke the camel’s back? After all we’d been through? A stupid La Perla mini-dress was going to send us to the lawyer’s office to sign divorce papers?
Then it hit me.
The thing I’d known in the back of my head for weeks now but refused to articulate in my mind—I didn’t want a divorce.
I wanted the opposite of divorce. And the old tricks in my hat—of pressing his buttons with my messy, lazy, unapologetically shocking behavior—didn’t work. I wasn’t drawing him closer.
I was pushing him away.
Matt motioned to the monstrous tank. “Are you ready to see this baby in action?”
Not even a little.
“Sure.”
But the Humvee didn’t move.
Neither did the men around it.
Finally, Senior shook his head, chuckling. “Okay, I see everyone’s a little distracted. Let’s give them some space, Dallas, shall we?”
He set his hand on my back, leading me toward the helicopter while Bruce trailed us.
I swept my eyes across the tarmac. “Where did Romeo go?”
Bruce settled on my other side. “Probably to sulk. Junior does that often. He can’t stand when people are nice to his father. Such an unbecoming trait in someone expected to inherit a leadership position.”
Senior nodded his agreement. “He’s not making you miserable, is he?”
“No, not at all,” I shot out.
An odd sense of ownership seized my throat. Only I could take jabs at Romeo.
“You can always come to me for anything. I should’ve mentioned it earlier. I’m here if you need me.”
“Er…thanks.”
I continued searching, mildly aware something was amiss—and not just my husband.
Senior’s hand slipped, hitting the curve of my butt. I startled, shoulders sagging when he hiked his hand up my back again.
Red-hot mortification dusted his cheeks. “My apologies. My hands aren’t what they used to be, unfortunately. Not as steady.”
I gave him the benefit of the doubt, because the alternative struck me as too outlandish.
Bruce rushed to Senior’s side, offering an arm. “Where is Junior when his father needs him? He really is unreliable.”
As soon as the drill began, I understood why Romeo didn’t want me here.
The experiment consisted of the Humvee, driven by a trained professional, sailing across the tarmac as everything from nature to man-made catastrophes attempted to wipe its existence off Earth.
The vehicle galloped into an array of dangerous obstacles: mud, ice, water, and fallen trees. Meanwhile, dozens of armed men shot bullets into the rear.
Just when the noise died down, an explosion quaked beneath my heels. I wobbled, one teeter away from face-planting on the harsh cement.
Senior seemed worse off, barely able to maintain balance, which he already struggled to do on a regular basis. Bruce flew to the rescue, offering his forearm again.
The tank lulled to a stop, engine cutting. A man holding an orange light stick directed the vehicle to move past us for the second obstacle course.
My mini dress rode up, exposing the edge of my butt. I forced myself to watch, quivering in my stupid outfit, cursing myself for ignoring Romeo’s weather forecast.
Senior brushed Bruce aside, retrieved his phone, and aimed it at a rocket launcher, recording the display. “This is my favorite part. You’ll see how the vehicle gets out of all of it unscathed.”
But apparently, this almighty Humvee could not withstand a simple ten-foot drive, because as soon as it roared to life again, it drove directly into a ditch.
“What in the absolute cluster?!” Senior staggered toward the tank, which protruded perpendicular to the road, stuck hood-down in a six-foot-deep trench. “What happened?”
The driver crawled out, ripping his helmet off.
Matt sprinted over to help him, sparing me a glare. “Your daughter-in-law happened, sir. Steven couldn’t stop staring at her and got distracted.”
Steven lurched to his feet, a rooster-red blush pecking his cheeks. “I’m so sorry, sir. This isn’t…I mean…look, sir, you could see her entire, hmm, you know, in that outfit.”
“Check yourself, boy.” Senior swayed with the force of his shout. “You shouldn’t be commenting about my daughter-in-law’s outfit, let alone what’s beneath it. Where’s my son?”
He scanned the growing crowd while Matt yanked Steven away.
“Should be here any minute.” Cara materialized, tucked into a sensible coat. Such a lovely, fully functional coat, too. My teeth chattered, fingers invading frostbite territory. “He went to grab something from the helicopter.”
“For fifteen minutes?”
Cara propped her chin up. “He had an important call to take.”
There was no call.
I knew that as perfectly well as I knew Romeo had disappeared so he wouldn’t kill me in front of an audience.
“He missed the drill?” Senior gaped. “What the hell is wrong with him?”
“Such a poor example for our employees,” Bruce added. Why was this cretin even here?
Okay, fine, I had no real reason to be here, too.
In fact, I regretted ever showing up.
Cara pursed her lips. “I don’t mean to overstep, Mr. Costa, but Romeo warned you that Steven is too inexperienced for the job.”
Senior spun to me. “Let me take you to lunch, Dallas, since my rude son is too incompetent to keep his own wife entertained.”
“I’m not hungry.”
Not only was it the (surprising) truth, but Senior also never really un-plastered his hand from my lower back, even though we’d reached the helicopter.
If I had to guess, he kept it there for the sake of being seen like this, which I didn’t appreciate at all.
“Sir.” Matt jogged to us, stopping a few feet further than necessary when he spotted Senior’s arm around my waist. The only reason I hadn’t slapped it away was because I wasn’t sure if I’d overthought it. “We’ll need about forty people to drag the Humvee out of the ditch. We don’t have enough manpower. I’ve called for help.”
Senior jabbed a finger at the ditch. “That it cannot see its way out of a hole without assistance is a travesty in itself. A four-by-four can outperform this piece of junk.” He flashed me his teeth. “You really are a little troublemaker, aren’t you?” Before I could tell him to get his hands off me—was it really important if I was overthinking? I didn’t feel safe, and that was enough—he pinched my hip bone. “My, my, have you got meat on you. Much more than Morgan. I can see why he is so territorial of you.”
A terrible realization ambushed me.
What a nasty, lecherous, horrible excuse of a man. Not a shocker that Romeo loathed his father so much.
All the puzzle pieces fused together.
Senior and Morgan.
Morgan and Senior.
No wonder my husband almost blew my head off when I showed up looking like fair game. He didn’t want his father thinking I was fair game.
Pain, desire, and truth were the DNA of love. He’d checked two of the boxes, and I’d desperately craved the third. Now that I had it in my grasp, I dreaded the consequences.
“Get your hands off my wife before I break them both in front of your entire staff.” Romeo’s icy voice chilled the air.
“Junior,” Bruce purred. “And here we thought you’d left to get your diaper changed by Cara and wouldn’t be gracing us with your presence.”
I whipped my head around, watching Romeo round the helicopter. He shouldered off his cashmere Burberry coat.
Senior retreated from me as he draped it over my shoulders. Bruce, too, knew better than to stand in his way.
I didn’t know whether he’d covered me up so I wouldn’t show my goods to his staff or because it was cold, but gratitude swam laps inside me, nonetheless. Not just gratitude but elation.
Lord, was I screwed. The sight of his face restarted my heart, and the idea of not seeing it again…
He buttoned the coat around me like I was a small child, ensuring I was snug inside it. I swore he smelled of alcohol and blood.
Anger slashed a deep line between his brows, the hard set of his jaw rendering him unapproachable.
Still, I needed to try.
“Romeo, I’m so sor—”
“I’m not interested in your standard ‘sorry’ that usually follows despicable behavior, for which you never shoulder the consequences.” He turned to Cara. “Take my wife back to our house, and see to it that she doesn’t leave until I get there.”
Cara white-knuckled her keys. “Of course.”
It seemed obvious now that I’d figured it out. Cara knew what had transpired between Morgan and Senior. After all, she’d referenced it the day she brought my new wardrobe.
Another obvious thing—how much Cara loathed me for the trick I’d pulled today. I couldn’t even blame her.
I’d begun to dislike myself for all the punishment I’d inflicted upon her boss.
Cara led me to Jared’s car. I craned my neck, desperate to catch Romeo’s gaze, but he refused my attention.
He kept his eyes trained on his father. The father he couldn’t punch the daylights out of right now, even though it’d be completely warranted, since he was vying for the CEO position.
In the background, bulky men unloaded from Jeeps, jogging toward the ditch. What a disaster.
And it was all my doing.
I wanted to call Romeo’s name, but my voice perished in my throat.
Darkness seeped into me, cutting clean through my flesh and bones, straight into my soul.
The realization something terrible had happened to my husband—and that it was inflicted by his family—gripped me like a rust-clawed demon.
How could I be so blind?
I should’ve remembered what I learned from books.
Beasts were never born—they were made.
