Page 95 of Ruthless Lord

I nod slowly. “Alright, wife. Tell me what you need from me.”

“Promise you’ll still take me upstairs?” She drains her wine glass, eyebrows raising. “I’m feeling very uninhibited right now.”

“You’d better talk fast.”

Chapter 29

Charlie

Stefano’s barely paying attention to me as he stretches. His body’s lean and gorgeous in the low light of the private box Albert gave us again. I sit with my legs crossed at the bar, sipping wine, my lips pressed together, glaring at him impatiently.

“You’ve barely been home,” I complain loudly as he cracks his neck and starts shadow boxing. He dances around, warming up for the fight. “I made dinner for you last night, and all you could do was sit on your phone, texting.”

“It’s called work,” he grunts at me.

“Yeah, right. I know what yourworkreally is, you asshole. You could at least look me in the eye.”

He doesn’t bother turning his head. “You’re being needy.”

“It’s notneedywhen a wife wants her husband to treat her like she’s more than furniture.”

He pauses and glances at me. “Youarefurniture.”

“You fucking asshole.” I glare at him, jaw working. “You need me as much as I need you.”

“You’re wrong about that.” He goes back to working out.

“I don’t even know why I’m here. After this fight, you need to start paying attention to me.”

“I told you, I’ve been busy at work.”

“You keep saying that. It’s not impressive, and I really don’t care.”

He glares at me. “There’s a massive shipment coming through. I’ve got my whole team working on it. I’m up to my fucking asshole in manifests, hidden compartments, inspections, and truck repairs. You think the depot runs itself?”

“I think you’re not as important as you pretend you are.” I get up and throw back my wine.

“And I think you’re just a spoiled, entitled rich girl who’s mad she’s not getting what she wants.”

“Fuck you, mafia prick. You’re just a brainless loser. Look at you. More muscle than IQ.”

“Brat.”

“Asshole.”

“When this shipment comes through, I’m going to punish that filthy fucking mouth of yours.” He stalks toward me, looking like an avenging god of death. A real thrill of fear slices into my guts. “When it’s done, every fucking state from here to California’s going to be flooded with Marino coke. I’m talking hundreds of millions, wife of mine, and I’m taking a cut of it all. When it’sdone, I’ll get you down on your knees, and you’ll beg to get a taste.”

“Good luck with that, you arrogant fucking asshole.”

“I thought you wanted me to pay attention to you.” He sneers in my face. “I’ll be happy to, so long as your mouth’s sucking my?—”

I whip my hand and slap him straight across the face. It cracks into his cheek and leaves his face slightly reddened. He doesn’t move, only looms there, glaring death at me as I back away.

“I don’t care how much money’s coming through on those dumb trucks. Treat me better.”

“Earn my attention.”

“Go to hell.”