Page 106 of Fire and Silk

He scratches the back of his neck.

“What’s wrong with you?”

I stare at the ceiling.

“What’s it like to be in love?”

He stops halfway to the dresser. Turns.

“You serious?”

I don’t answer.

He walks to the other side of the bed, pulls the sheets back, and climbs in with a grunt.

“It’s past my work hours,” he mutters. “I really can’t deal with this.”

He rolls over, back to me.

Within seconds, his breathing evens out.

I stare at the wall.

Then I lift one foot and kick the side of his leg.

Nothing.

Another kick. Still nothing.

“Useless,” I mutter.

I shift, turn toward the other side, and exhale into the dark.

Chapter Seventeen – Lira

Dantès Estate, Private Wing

The door closes behind him.

For a few seconds, I just stand there, hands at my sides, bare feet on cold marble, the robe slipping off one shoulder. The light from the wall lamp stretches across the room in a dull strip. His footsteps fade down the hallway. Then nothing.

I want to follow him. My heel shifts half an inch in that direction. But I stop.

The mirror across the room catches my reflection. I turn toward it slowly. My hair is pulled loose, hanging over one shoulder. My mouth is still parted. My chest still rising fast.

I stare.

It would be foolish—dangerous—to fall for a man who made it clear what he needed me for. His eyes are honest when he talks about strategy. About use. I’ve heard it too many times now.

I look down at my hand.

The ring catches the light.

It’s heavy. Smooth. Beautiful. It fits like it belongs.

I like being his wife.

No—I lovebeing his wife. The power it offers. The way it changes how people see me. How they listen. How they wait when I speak.