Page 69 of Beautiful Torment (Empire of Kings #1)

ANGELO

“ W hat is it?” I glance at Mariella briefly before I get distracted by the incoming message on my phone.

Between searching for Ray’s hidden stash of notes and information on Aegis, my men have been busy texting me updates. I also have two more meetings in the city this afternoon, and I’m irritated that my sister called me back here—and even more so that she wouldn’t tell me why.

“Your wife is sick,” she snaps.

That captures my attention.

“What do you mean?” I look up at her.

“She has a fever,” Mariella says.

“Is it a virus?” My gaze drifts down the hall to our bedroom door.

“Yes. It’s an emotional terrorist named Angelo.” She glares at me. “You have to stop treating her like she’s nothing more than a fucking baby incubator for you.”

Those words sting, and it pisses me off because she knows what’s at stake here.

“I don’t think she’s just a baby incubator,” I grit out. “You know what the treaty entails. This isn’t a goddamned fairy tale. It’s business.”

“And you’re a goddamned liar.”

“Watch your mouth,” I warn her.

“You can’t let go of what happened,” she huffs. “You’re so hell-bent on revenge you haven’t even considered that maybe Abella had a good reason for doing what she did.”

I narrow my eyes at her. “What do you know?”

“Ask her.” She gestures down the hall.

“She won’t fucking tell me. That’s the problem.”

“Well, maybe if you quit being an ass?—”

“Mariella.” I drag in a breath, trying to find my patience.

“You have no idea how strong she’s had to be.” Mariella’s voice cracks. “She’s carried enough pain for one lifetime. She doesn’t need it from you, too.”

I swallow, turning away as tension settles in my chest. But Mariella isn’t finished. She fires off one final blow.

“Mom would have wanted you to fix this.”

I start down the hall, and Mariella trails after me.

“Love you, asshole.”

“Love you too,” I mutter.

When I crack open the door to the suite, I pause on the threshold. Abella’s in bed, teeth chattering as she shivers in her sleep. She’s buried in the comforter and still can’t get warm. The sight of her so unwell punches me in the gut. I don’t fucking like it.

“I just gave her some Tylenol,” Mariella whispers from behind me.

“I’ve got this,” I tell her. “Check in on us later.”

She nods and leaves me alone with Abella. I kick off my shoes and strip off my suit, tossing it onto the chair before I round the bed and climb in behind her.

When I press my body against hers and wrap her in my arms, she stirs, glancing up at me with watery eyes. Her face is red and her eyelids are puffy, which is a good indication she’s been crying. It only makes me feel worse.

“You might get sick,” she rasps.

“I don’t care. Go back to sleep, dolcezza . I’ll keep you warm.”

She barely has the energy to nod before she falls back to sleep. After a few minutes of absorbing my body heat, her shivering mellows out, and the vise around my ribcage loosens.

I sweep my hands over her back, massaging the tension that’s gathered there. When I bury my face against her hair and breathe her in for the first time in two weeks, it’s like a drug to my system.

I couldn’t let her go right now if I tried.

Settling in for the long haul, I close my eyes as my phone vibrates across the room. I didn’t cancel my meetings, but I don’t care.

Abella sleeps, and I stay with her, checking her temperature and feeding her sips of water throughout the night.

When she finally wakes up the next day, she groans as she peels her face off my chest. She turned in her sleep at one point, draping herself over my body and using me as her pillow.

She was so comfortable there, I haven’t moved her, but now we’re both hot and sticky.

“Hi.” She blinks up at me with drowsy eyes. “You’re still here.”

“I’m still here.” I smooth some of her wayward hair out of her face. “How are you feeling?”

“Better,” she says softly.

I reach over and swipe the water off the nightstand, opening it up before I hand it to her. She takes a long drink and watches me share the same bottle when she’s finished.

“How long did I sleep?” she asks.

“Sixteen hours.”

Her eyes widen as panic sets in. “Oh God, I need to call the office. My clients?—”

“It’s already taken care of,” I assure her. “I had Andrew get in touch with your assistant and clear your schedule for the week. They’ll handle the most pressing concerns.”

“I can’t,” she protests. “I have so much to do.”

“It’s not up for negotiation.” I squeeze her hip. “You need to rest.”

She searches my eyes, and I know she’s wondering if I’m saying it for her sake or the baby she’ll have inside her.

I graze her temple with my lips as my hold on her tightens. “I don’t ever want to see you that sick again, Abella. I don’t fucking like it.”

She nods and relaxes into me, her fingers drawing circles over my chest.

“I’m sorry for what I said to you that night,” she whispers. “You’re nothing like my father. I was just angry, and?—”

“I know.” I tilt her gaze up to mine, so fucking tempted to kiss her.

Before I get the chance, Mariella eases the door open and peeks inside. “Look who’s awake.” She smiles. “How are you feeling?”

“Much better,” Abella tells her. “Thank you for taking care of me.”

“I can’t take all the credit.” Mariella glances between the two of us. “Angelo did most of it.”

Abella’s eyes soften as she looks up at me, as if I’m some kind of hero for doing the bare minimum. I hate that she’s been conditioned to expect so little of the men in her life. Her father beat her down and made her feel worthless, and Matteo never lifted a finger to help her.

Then there’s me, a different breed of asshole.

It’s a rare occasion when I admit that I’m wrong, but in this case, Mariella’s observations were…accurate. As much as it frustrates me to no end, it’s not unsurprising that Abella wouldn’t trust me with her secrets. Particularly when I’ve given her no reason to believe they’d be safe with me.

This revenge arc no longer feels satisfying when this is the consequence. I wanted Abella to suffer, and she has. But it’s not a victory when all I’ve won are her tears. I can have retribution, or I can have her, but it’s become brutally obvious that I can’t have both.

Letting go of her betrayal feels like a weakness, and I don’t even know who I am if I don’t have vengeance to keep me warm.

But having her in my arms isn’t the worst thing that could happen.

In fact, I can grudgingly admit that making her whole again might taste even sweeter than settling the score.

Annoyed with both myself and her, I kiss her a little too roughly, swallowing her shocked exhalation as I thread my fingers through her hair. What I really want to do is roll her on her back, bury myself between her thighs, and fuck these uncomfortable feelings right out of me.

“I’m still right here,” Mariella mutters.

Jesus, I forgot she was even in the room.

I release Abella’s mouth reluctantly as Nonna’s voice carries down the hall, and she makes an appearance a second later.

“Coming through!” She barges in with a tray in her hands. “Oh, isn’t this nice?” She smiles when she sees Abella and me in bed together. “I make magic soup for you, tesoro .”

Abella lifts her head, and I help her sit up.

“Pastina?” She brightens.

“Yes, of course,” Nonna answers. “Your favorite.”

“Thank you, Nonna.” Abella glances at the tray eagerly when I take it and set it over her lap.

“And Ace juice.” Nonna points at the glass.

“You’re the best.” Abella’s voice hitches, and it grabs me by the throat.

Nonna blows her a kiss, then holds up her finger. “I have breakfast for you too, caro .”

Mariella rolls her eyes as Nonna wanders back down the hall and returns a moment later with another tray for me. This one has apple cake, fruit, and a cappuccino.

“Thank you, Nonna.” I kiss her on the cheek when she leans down.

“You spoil him,” Mariella calls after her as Nonna heads for the door.

“Nonsense.” Nonna gestures. “Yours will be at the table outside.”

After Nonna disappears, Mariella settles her gaze on my wife.

“Abella, I thought we could have our appointment on Friday, if that works for you.”

Abella shifts beside me. “That should be okay.”

“For what?” I ask.

“I just want to do a checkup.” Mariella shrugs. “She hasn’t had one in a while. It wouldn’t hurt for you to do one too.”

“I’m fine,” I tell her. “But I’ll bring her on Friday.”

“No need,” Mariella says. “I have the day off, so I can take her to my office and bring her back when we’re done.”

When I glance at Abella, she seems to be fine with that plan, so I let it go. I trust Mariella not to let her overexert herself.

“Alright, I’m off.” Mariella eases the door closed as she backs out of the room. “Abella, let me know if you need anything else in the meantime.”

“I will,” Abella assures her.

After Mariella leaves, we eat our breakfast, and I shoot off a quick text to the head housekeeper, requesting fresh bedding. I help Abella into the shower and wash both of us before I get her changed into a clean set of pajamas.

Once I’ve got her settled back in bed, I throw on a pair of sweats and a tee-shirt, hiding a smirk as she eye-fucks me. I know it’s been too long when she’s this weak and still considering it.

“I need to make a quick phone call,” I tell her.

“Okay.” She sinks into the pillow with a sigh.

“When you’re feeling better, cara .” I level her with a dark look. “I’ll fuck you so thoroughly you’ll never want to leave this bed.”

She bites her lip and nods, watching me as I walk to the window that faces the forest. Andrew’s been rescheduling my meetings for today and tomorrow, but I’ll use the time that Abella’s with Mariella on Friday to handle the most pressing concerns.

When I dial Andrew, he provides a brief report on what needs my attention and what can wait. I haven’t told Abella yet, but she chose well when she hired him. He’s efficient and reliable, and unlike Genevieve, he can actually keep things running smoothly while I’m away.

As I end the call, a flicker of movement in the thicket of trees catches my attention. For a second, I think I must be imagining it, so I open up the balcony door and step outside. Sure enough, he’s there—the black stag staring back at me.

In all my years on the island, I’ve never actually believed in his existence.

As boys, we used to tease the girls when they begged us to venture into the woods, searching for the legendary beast. My nonno used to tell us tales about the mysterious creature who roamed the island for far longer than any mortal stag could live.

He told us that, according to the local legend, the black stag was known as the guardian of secrets.

It was widely believed that the stag would only reveal itself to those who sought the truth, or those about to be ruined by it.

I always thought my nonno was a little bit crazy, and my father denied ever seeing the stag himself. But there’s no denying what I’m looking at now, even if I can’t explain it.

I’ve explored every inch of this island many times over, as have my brothers, and none of us have ever seen him before.

An unsettling feeling burrows beneath my ribcage as I lock eyes with the beast. He turns and raises his head high, muscles rippling beneath his dark coat. With one final glance at me, he stamps the ground and disappears back into the trees from which he came.

“What is it?” Abella calls out.

“Nothing…” I walk back into the room, shaking my head. “It was nothing.”