Page 63 of Bad Bishop

I caught him speaking to me through the mirror, but didn’t bother reading his lips. I thought we’d reached some kind of ceasefire. Then he went and made decisions that weren’t his to make. The frustration of not being able to communicate this to him, to explain what angered me, made a rash break out across my neck. Great. I was becomingallergicto not talking to him.

I got dressed quickly and waited behind him at the reception desk while the flirty receptionist set us up with another appointment. When she gave him the clinic’s card with the date written down, she also slipped him her number. He pocketed it coolly, turned toward me, and strode outside.

Now, I wasn’t just fuming.

I wasmurderous.

I never should’ve stitched the bastard up. When the elevator slid open and we poured into the lobby, he pressed his hand to the small of my back. I slapped his touch away, even though his four soldiers were standing there, staring at us in disbelief.

Ignoring their bewildered expressions, he clasped my wrist and guided me to an alcove behind the elevator bank. My backpressed against a silvered building directory. He bared his teeth, getting in my face.

“Got something tosayto me, wifey?”

I offered my middle finger and an angelic smile.

He tipped his head back and laughed humorlessly.

“How much of a pushover can you be, Lila? I make your decisions for you, I take away your will, your words, your bleeding freedom. I took that whore’s number.” He pointed upstairs. “I’ll keep pushing your buttons until you break, because I refuse to play dumb like the rest of your family. Your brother took out my eye but make no mistake—I can still see through your bullshit.”

He had a point. Still, I wasn’t going to reward his bullying with my trust.

Anyway, why did he care about my words so much?

“Everyone underestimates you. You’re smart, cunning, and have skill,” he explained. “You can be an asset to me. One of my many lethal weapons.”

Of course he wanted to use me. Men like him only cared about expanding their empires.

Tiernan tilted my chin up. “One last chance to speak before I pry the words out of you. You won’t like my method,Gealach, so you better start talking.”

Was hethreateningme?

He made me crazy. Feral with rage and desire. I took a deep breath and nodded. His features relaxed.

“Good. Now wha—”

I spat in his face, a taunting smile pulling at my lips.

Gone was his wry amusement. His expression promised retribution and pain.

I believed him. My husband wasn’t one for empty threats.

All the same, he needed to remember who I was.

Yes, a girl.

But also a Ferrante.

_______

That night, I stared at my flat stomach in front of my bathroom mirror.

Turning sideways, I sucked it in all the way, ribs poking, to find the silhouette of my womb curving into a hillside.

There’s a baby in there.

I allowed myself a moment of joy. I’d always wanted to be a mother and never thought it could be possible due to my lie. I might be stuck with a husband who made Satan look like a kitten, but I’d always have my child.

I would love them.