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CHAPTER TEN

Dario

I tried not to stare at her mouth. It was hard.

Her lips were two perfect rosebuds. I hadn’t properly kissed her at our wedding. I’d kept it fast and appropriate for the setting, not to mention that I was half-expecting her to slap me and run screaming in the opposite direction.

She’d spent our vow exchange staring at nothing just above my head. It had been subtle, but I’d noticed that she never looked at me. And our first dance together was stiff and uncomfortable.

It didn’t matter that I was trying my best to make our wedding day special for her. I’d given her what should have been the wedding of her dreams. At least, that’s what the wedding planner had thought, but Mya had been so mentally closed off that she hadn’t even noticed me.

Luckily the three-hundred people I invited were just acquaintances so I wouldn’t have to see any of them again. But damn, it still didn’t sit well with me to think my wife still couldn’t look at me.

Logically, I knew I was asking for a lot. I had forced her to marry me and these were the natural consequences of my actions.

Why had I expected some warmth or caring from her when I blackmailed her to be with me? My obsessions often blinded me to the needs of others. When I saw something I wanted, I did whatever I needed to do to possess it.

I understood that that was part of my problem. It was something I would need to work on, but I didn’t plan to change anytime soon.

And in Mya’s case, I would never change. Even though she barely spoke to me, left the room when I came in, and studiously ignored me during our entire honeymoon—even going as far as attempting to sleep in one of the vacant guest rooms instead of our shared bed, I enjoyed every moment in her presence.

Her steely glances at me when she thought I didn’t notice, were adorable. The way she rubbed the locket around her neck when she felt nervous was endearing. There was so much to like about her and so much more I wanted to learn about her—if she ever let me in.

I didn’t know how to put her at ease. I thought spending time alone at the mansion I’d rented for the better part of the year would be a good time for us to get to know each other, but aside from when we ate together, she stayed away from me.

In fact, when the housekeeping crew came back a few days after our wedding, she’d been elated to see them. One would have thought she’d just been united with old friends.

She’d taken a special interest in the groundskeeper. She kind of followed him around like a puppy asking him questions about the different types of plants.

For the first time ever, I was jealous of another man. A man who was around seventy-five years old, didn’t quite walk right, and was covered in dirt on a daily basis. This was my competition. I wanted to throw the old man in the water, but then she would think I was a monster.

Truthfully, I knew I only had myself to blame. I’d deliberately isolated her to get her to acknowledge me and it had backfired. I was conflicted. How could I reach her if she didn’t even want to be near me?

Laughter rang through the air, and I tried to keep the frown off my face. It was Mya, laughing uproariously over something the groundskeeper was saying.

Unable to help myself, I stood up and went looking for them. I never thought my competition would be an elderly man with one foot in the grave.

Following the sound of their laughter, I found them in the kitchen with the lead cook and a few of her assistants. They were all laughing so hard that they didn’t even notice me until I cleared my throat.

The cook’s eyes grew large, the groundskeeper mumbled an excuse and left, and the assistants to the cook rushed off behind her, attempting to look busy.

Mya didn’t even bat an eye.

“Thanks for the bread recipe, Lola,” she said to who I guessed was the cook.

I was correct. The cook smiled at her, glanced at me, and then quickly walked off to the walk-in refrigerator and closed the door. Was I that intimidating?

Mya shook her head. “You sure know how to clear a room.” She stood up then and walked out of the kitchen, past me.

I ignored her comment and followed, catching up with her easily. It wasn’t my fault that I intimidated most people I met just by existing. “I was going to go visit the greenhouse and was wondering?—”

“I already went with Jacques.”

“Who the hell is Jacques?”

She stopped in her tracks, and turned around and stared at me. “The head groundskeeper.”

“The slumped-over old man?”

“That’s rude.”

“How is stating the obvious rude? I think it makes me honest. How else would you like to pass the day?”

“Does it really matter?” There was frustration written all over her face.

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“It means, we all know I’m here because this is what you wanted. You were the only one who had a say.”

I folded my arms across my chest. “You could have said no to our deal.”

“We both know that’s not true.”

I titled my head, as if I didn’t understand her words. “Are you saying I coerced you?”

“Are you saying you didn’t?”

“You wanted to commit a crime. You failed. I offered you an alternative.”

“Are you trying to say you did me a favor?”

“That’s how I see it.”

She just stared at me and then shook her head. “Of course, you do. Tell me, Dario, does anyone who exists in your world actually get a say over how they live their own lives?”

This time when she marched away, I just let go.

She thought I was controlling. She was right, but it was only for her protection. Now that she was a part of my world, I had to keep her safe.

I had enemies, plenty of them. Besides, she was her own worst enemy. I didn’t really trust her not to do something to get herself into trouble.

Unbeknownst to her, I’d done some digging into her life over the years. I knew her mother died when Mya was barely an adult. I knew that her father wasn’t ever around and that she considered Jason some sort of savior because he’d helped her after a low point in her life.

All the information I knew about her told me that she was prone to making questionable decisions when grief was involved.

Part of me believed that I could make it all better. I deeply believed that she just needed time to return to her senses and see that the situation I had created was a good one.

She would never want for anything again. Nico wouldn’t show his face around her, and I could give her a life that she could only have dreamed of before.

But most importantly, she wouldn’t be lonely anymore. Neither one of us would be.

Later that evening, I found her sitting in the downstairs study reading a book. Her feet were folded under her and her hair cascaded across her shoulders, falling into her face. She looked younger, less occupied with the world, and more carefree.

She smiled to herself. Whatever she was reading had amused her.

I wanted to ask her what she was reading, but I didn’t want to disturb her. I hadn’t seen her smile so unguarded in a long time. I would give her that moment.

The air was getting a little crisp as the nights were getting longer and the leaves were starting to turn. I had a home in Connecticut that I thought she might enjoy visiting. It wasn’t anything like the mansion I’d rented for our wedding and fake honeymoon.

It was more homey, down-to-earth like she was. I thought she would enjoy it, especially seeing the leaves change color. I hoped it would make her happy.

Who was I kidding? What I really hoped was that it would get me brownie points with her.

I walked past the study and ventured upstairs to a room hidden behind another. It was a room even the staff didn’t know existed.

When I entered, it was dark aside from the light of the monitors that extended across the entire back wall. The room had been a panic room of sorts before I had it converted to a surveillance room where I could monitor the entire mansion in real time.

I wondered what Mya would do if she knew that I watched her constantly.

I had thought her presence would be enough for me, but I found myself experiencing a rush seeing her behind closed doors on video.

It was these unguarded moments that fueled my obsession with her. As I did every day, I sat at the monitors and watched her. She would hate me if she knew, but I had no plans of her ever figuring it out.

She entered the bedroom. When she undressed, I usually looked away from the cameras, but today, I noticed that as she removed her jeans, she turned away from the camera. And then she did it again, removing her top, just outside the scope of the camera.

From the corner camera nestled in the crown molding of the bedroom, I watched her trace her hand across the mirror and lift it. The camera disconnected.

I sat up straight. “How did she know?” I whispered to myself.

Shit, she had found my cameras.