Page 39 of Beautiful Torment (Empire of Kings #1)

ABELLA

I linger outside the door to Angelo’s office for far too long, considering whether to knock or just open it. Whatever I choose, it will set a precedent for our marriage. Logically, I know that most Mafia wives would knock because with the men in this life, you never know what you’re going to find.

But is that the kind of wife I want to be?

Knocking feels like I’m asking permission, and I’m not a child.

With that decided, I try to settle my nerves as I turn the knob. The door swings open, and two faces swivel in my direction.

Angelo sprawls in his office chair like a king on the throne—leaned back, arms casually resting at his sides, the picture of relaxation. He’s wearing all black today, from his trousers to his button-up shirt that’s rolled up at the sleeves. He looks every bit the dark overlord he is.

Meanwhile, less than a foot away, a woman has her ass planted on his desk, one long tan leg draped over the other as she bobs her heel. Curly blonde hair spills down her back, and when she meets my gaze, I want to vomit.

Genevieve Wilkes has a face I’d recognize anywhere, particularly because she’s been my mortal enemy for the last eight years.

It’s stupid, really. Because at one point in time, we were friends.

Like me, her life was on a similar trajectory as a Society daughter.

It was widely known that her father was only a signature away from sealing a marriage contract with the Stavros family once she turned twenty.

But much to her dismay, Ares Stavros showed little interest in her.

That was when she set her sights on my boyfriend—Angelo.

It started out slowly. Under the guise of being a loyal friend, she’d tell me that she’d heard rumors about him with other girls in the city.

Her brother was an associate of Angelo’s, and Genevieve would regale me with stories of their wild parties at Cosa Nostra -owned strip clubs.

She chipped away at my insecurities and planted seeds in my mind, painting a grim picture of my future with Angelo.

A future where I’d be home alone while he was out enjoying his time elsewhere.

She told me not to get too invested. That I deserved better.

It went against everything I knew to be true about him. Angelo had only ever had eyes for me. But my younger, more vulnerable self also knew how this world worked. I’d grown up in it.

She had me twisted up in knots until I caught her trying to kiss Angelo one day. He rebuffed her, and when I confronted her, she told me she was trying to prove her point. When that didn’t work, she let her mask slip and threw a fit, stating that I didn’t deserve him.

At the time, I thought maybe it was a way of getting back at Ares for not wanting her.

But her interest never wavered. She followed Angelo around and meddled in our relationship at every opportunity.

If there was one thing I could give her credit for, it was that when she made it her mission to ruin someone’s life, she committed with her whole heart.

Back then, Angelo never took the bait. But seeing them together now poisons me with envy.

They seem well acquainted, judging by the way she’s sitting on his desk, and I have no idea what’s happened between them since we’ve been estranged.

If this is part of Angelo’s revenge plot, I have to admit it’s top-tier.

He knows how I feel about her. Yet here she is— on our honeymoon.

“Oh my goodness, Abella,” Genevieve drawls in a syrupy sweet voice. “What happened to your face? You look terrible.”

Darkness flickers in Angelo’s gaze as he observes the bruises she’s referencing, and more than anything, I want to know what he’s thinking.

Does it bother him?

“Genevieve.” I spare her a disinterested glance. “It’s been so long.”

“It has, hasn’t it?” She offers me an icy smile. Her shrewd gaze moves over my figure and pauses to linger on the huge rock adorning my finger. “You’ve filled out since I last saw you.”

I almost laugh at her thinly veiled insult. I’m not the same insecure girl she used to taunt, but clearly, she hasn’t changed.

“Thanks.” I return her smile. “I’m in my happy, healthy era.”

Her expression sours, and I can tell she’s biting back a response, but she doesn’t give voice to it.

Regardless, I’m not ashamed of my body, and I refuse to let her get to me.

I’ll always be short and curvy, but clearly Angelo didn’t mind when he was fucking me into oblivion last night.

It’s tempting to tell her as much, but I refrain.

“What are you doing here, Genevieve?” I get straight to the point.

“Oh, haven’t you told her?” She brushes Angelo’s arm with her fingers and laughs. “We like to joke that I’m his work wife.”

Work wife?

Genevieve looks pleased as punch that she’s blindsided me with this information. Meanwhile, Angelo seems wholly uninterested in contributing to the conversation.

I’m annoyed and flustered, but that’s the entire point. He wants me to suffer the same way I made him suffer—until death do us part.

“Did you need something, Abella?” He arches a brow at me.

His words are steeped in provocation. He’s daring me to say something about her being here, but my pride won’t let me.

I told myself I’d give our marriage thirty days before I dropped an atom bomb on it.

If I plan to stick to that, there’s no point arguing about Genevieve or even Matteo. It won’t change anything in the end.

I have to remember the bigger picture.

“I…need to get on the WIFI,” I blurt.

Smooth, Abella.

He scrapes a hand over his jaw, clearly irritated that I’m not playing his little game. “And you couldn’t ask any of the crew members for that?”

Genevieve smirks, thoroughly enjoying this little show.

“Noted.” I turn on my heel. “I’ll ask someone else.”

Over the course of the next three days, I see very little of Angelo.

True to his word, he gives me space to mourn the loss of Matteo, where he can’t see it.

But after what Alessio told me, I’m not even sure I should be mourning him.

It’s hard for me to reconcile the Matteo I knew with a version of him that could betray his own brother.

I’m still having trouble accepting it. It’s like cherishing a treasured gift from someone for years, only to one day see it cracked open—full of poison that’s slowly killing you.

I was angry at Matteo for forcing my hand into marriage, but I truly believed he did it out of desperation.

He was always the quieter one. The softer one.

The man who would run from conflict. Women didn’t look at him as often, and I know he struggled to connect with them.

So when we entered into a fake engagement, I wasn’t all that surprised when Matteo developed a crush.

We spent more time together out of necessity, and while I tried to encourage him to meet someone else, I think he saw me as a ready-made bride who had fallen into his lap by chance.

If it weren’t for my father’s desire to get rid of me, Matteo would have never had a leg to stand on, and he knew it.

He dragged it out for six years, hoping something would miraculously change.

Admittedly, I felt a little sorry for him.

But not once did I ever truly feel threatened.

Even if we had married, I know he would have never argued with me when I shut down his physical advances.

So I can’t imagine him standing toe to toe with the most dangerous threat of all to steal the Vitale throne.

But then again, I guess he didn’t have to… because he sent him to prison.

It's exhausting to think about, so I try not to. Instead, I fill my days with reading, napping, and wandering around the yacht.

Angelo spends most of his time holed up in his office, presumably lording over the Vitale empire and all the various enterprises it entails.

That responsibility now falls to him, and it’s a significant endeavor.

The Vitales have a wide portfolio of legitimate businesses, all of them benefiting their less-than-legal activities through the Cosa Nostra .

Real estate, luxury tourism, nightclubs, shipping companies—even I don’t know the full extent of what they own.

When Genevieve isn’t in the office with him, she’s flitting about in her bikini and tossing me annoying little smirks while I try to ignore her.

This morning, I saw the two of them leave together in the helicopter, and it made me queasy.

I know he’s doing it to test me. He could have married her if he wanted to, but he didn’t.

And every night, when I feel the bed dip as he lays beside me, I know he isn’t with her.

But it still doesn’t make it any easier to swallow.

I consider a group call with my friends, but ultimately, I decide to have a private conversation with Mariella instead. It’s something I’ve been putting off, and I shouldn’t have.

She answers on the third ring, and the moment I see her face, all my emotions come flooding back to the surface.

“What did Angelo do?” She narrows her eyes.

“Nothing.” I smile at her through my tears. “It’s not him. I just… I needed to make sure you don’t hate me.”

“Of course I don’t hate you.” She softens her voice.

“But Matteo?—”

“Is that why you called me?” she asks. “Because you wanted to punish yourself?”

“I don’t know,” I admit. “Maybe. I just didn’t want to listen to the girls tell me it’s not my fault and I don’t deserve this.”

“Well, you’re out of luck,” she says. “Because I’m going to tell you the same thing.”

“He was your brother—” I choke out.

“So is Angelo.” She offers me a grim smile. “Uncle Sal filled us in on everything. Am I sad that Matteo’s gone? Yes. But did he deserve it? Also yes. He destroyed Angelo’s life and ripped our family apart. There was no coming back from that.”

“So you believe he did it?” I ask.

“He confessed to it,” she answers. “So did the men who helped him.”

“But was it under duress?”

She stares at me for a moment and shakes her head. “I never could figure out what went on with you two. Were you with him just because you didn’t want to marry Angelo?”

I hesitate, then answer a little too honestly. “It was never that I didn’t want to marry Angelo.”

“Then why?” she presses.

“I want to tell you.” I close my eyes and blow out a breath. “And I will soon. But just not right now, okay?”

A beat of silence passes before she concedes and changes the subject. “How is the honeymoon going?”

“Well, he’s spent most of it with his assistant,” I mutter. “You remember Genevieve Wilkes?”

“Seriously?” She rolls her eyes. “What a dick move.”

“He wants to punish me.” I shrug. “I probably deserve it.”

“Abella, no.” Mariella glares at the screen. “Stop that right now. You aren’t going to let him get away with that.”

“Well, what would you suggest I do?”

A sly grin curves across her pretty face. “You punish him right back.”