Page 25 of Scream (Duchess & Devils #1)

Sabrina .

Weak and useless.

That's what he called me.

Let’s not forget I’ve been demoted from princess to duchess , either.

Standard, I suppose, for him to think of me like that when I've given him nothing else to go off. I'm skittish and rude, and I want nothing to do with him, seeing as the man irks me to no end. How else am I supposed to act toward him?

God, the wedding had been so beautiful. Lavish and opulent. Until it wasn't.

Not to mention we're now on a flight to our surprise honeymoon, which his father planned for us, to their familial villa in Italy.

Maksim is dead asleep in the solitary bedroom towards the back of the plane and usually, I would be, too.

But my... flight blanket isn't on his family jet.

Parker isn't here, either, not even Niko.

Just me... and my husband.

I’m in hell.

I stare out of the window at the black abyss below us. Not a twinkle of light as we fly over the Atlantic – just a light grey cloud every now and then. My eyes feel heavy after today's events, but I can't allow myself to sleep. I don't have any of my medications.

When I said it was a surprise, I meant his father didn't tell a single fucking soul and we both had to pretend to be fucking happy about it.

Nothing is packed. We left our three hundred guests behind, and our car, driven by his father's second, wouldn't allow either of us to stop at either home to retrieve anything.

I can feel the weight of this like it's sitting on my chest, slowly crushing me from the inside out.

I tap my fingers to my thumb, four, three, two, one, one, two, three, four.

Tears prickle the back of my eyes, and all I want to do is scream in the hottest shower ever felt by womankind. But it's in the bedroom, and my husband is in there. Not to mention, he'll hear me. Everyone will.

I bend my legs, bringing my knees to my chest, draping my arms over them, and rest my head on my forearms.

It was either this... or marrying Kane.

And I already know what he's capable of.

Maksim is just a big, rude ogre. The lesser of two evils.

My mind drifts to the bed where Maksim is currently sleeping in. There was a large duvet over it, and it looked rather heavy... I snort.

I'd rather jump out of this perfectly good airplane than disturb him.

I laugh silently so the tears don't accidentally leak out.

God, I'm exhausted.

This is what delirium must be like.

I look up to tell Parker, because he seems to like my dark humor, but.

.. he's not there. That feels so fucking bleak.

My thoughts drift to earlier. To what he said in the dressing room.

Not only had he called me baby, but he promised to take me away when the year was over.

Once Maksim gets his money... plus interest, there really isn't a reason for me to stick around.

I groan inwardly.

Parker's lips had been so soft. Better than I had ever imagined.

I was so taken aback by his kiss, I forgot I was panicking. Never. Never in a thousand years had I thought my feelings for him would be reciprocated, and now... well now I'm married .

I can't help the tear that slips free.

And then I laugh .

What a fucking cluster fuck.

For four fucking years I've been in love with that man.

God, the first day he'd been assigned to me it felt like someone had splashed a bucket of ice water on my face.

I felt his cold stare like a shock to my system, down to my clit, and then to my toes and back up.

My silent protector rejected every single one of my advances, and the only time I could get him to react in any way toward me was by being a prissy brat, or by letting him find me in the most compromising positions.

I felt a thrill every time. But soon, I noticed he was watching, letting me fuck, letting me ride, and only pulling me off either right before I came or right after.

His glare on mine was unblinking and unwavering.

The best was when he watched me being devoured.

I could keep my eyes on his and pretend it was Savage’s tongue fucking me.

I swear, one time, he licked his lips almost so inconspicuously, I thought it had been a fragment of my imagination, I came so hard I saw two of him.

But after today, I know it wasn't. Somewhere along the line, his tone towards me softened, and his stare wasn't as harsh. While he's still a moody bastard, he’d somehow become my moody bastard – even though he wasn’t mine, technically.

And now it's too fucking late.

" I'll take you far, far away from here."

I can't stop the tears, and I can't stop my cackling at how fucking incredulously ridiculous this all is.

If I had just tried a little harder to get over what happened to me - no, that's a fucked thought, huh? 'Just get over it?'

"What's so funny?"

I yelp at Maksim's solemn tone jarring me out of my thoughts.

I peer back at him. "I'm fucking married!

" I cackle, holding my sides that are starting to hurt, and notice his lips curl up in a smirk.

"I married" I gasp for air "the infamous Devil of New York," another gasp and I swipe at my eye, "and the man that's supposed to protect me" My cheeks hurt "isn't here.

This is... the most ridiculous fucking thing.

.. ever." I choke out. "I married a man that can't stand me, and the only one that understands me. .." I shake my head, chuckling.

I must look deranged.

Maksim drops his smile at the mention of Parker.

"I am utterly alone on the night of my wedding, not a friend in sight." My smile falls, and I clear my throat. "Not even my blanket." I wipe the tears off my face.

Eyes darker than soil squint at me and blink once. I can see the pity in his eyes, and I fucking loathe it. "Why don't you... go get some sleep? I have work to do."

I shake my head. "I wasn't able to get my medication due to this spontaneous trip. If I have a fit in my sleep, I don't want to cause an emergency landing when we're so close to Italy already."

"It's that bad?"

I don't know how to answer him, so I reply honestly with a shrug.

"It can be." I sigh, planting my feet on the carpeted floor of the plane, lean forward, then place my elbows on my knees.

"Would you like to give me the rundown? I have a feeling that your father didn't do this out of the goodness of his heart.

" I motion at the seat beside me. I would have had his assistant Jonathan send me all the information I needed like I did when meeting the capos, but.

.. again, this was a surprise for us both.

Jonas barely had enough time to get my clutch that had my phone, and he threw it to Raven who tossed it to me like a wild form of hot potato.

He blinks and clears his throat, then hesitantly sits down beside me.

He's wearing his slacks and a white V-neck shirt.

At least he's comfortable. I'm still in my wedding gown.

"The four heads of the Cosa Nostra you met at Eden report back to the four heads of the original famiglias.

My father now reports to me from Italy. He went there when he semi-retired due to his health. They act as a sort of council."

At least Jonathan did make me aware of his father’s decline. Cirrhosis of the liver – and now the rest of his organs are simply beginning to fail. He’s refused a transplant, wanting to be with his wife as soon as possible. It’s kind of romantic.

"And the Bratva?"

"Imagine myself as the middleman. Both sides report to me."

I hum and mindlessly nod. "Weary is the crown and all that."

He thrums his long fingers against the arm of the seat, the solitaire diamond on his black titanium ring glints back at me. He looks a bit nervous and a bit troubled.

"What is it?"

"I turned down all of their daughters over the years."

That's surprising. "Why?"

He shrugs and does that Robert De Niro frown. "My father had just gotten sick; I was taking over, and the timing wasn't right. I also had no interest in marriage. But due to this... you and I have to pretend to be so in love they forgive me for rejecting them all."

I rub circles at my temples. Lucky me. "Seems you'll have to put your disdain for me aside, dear husband."

"Only in company... wife ." The way he says it, with a bit of a growl, sends a weird blooming feeling to my core. "How's your Italian?"

I peer over at his large form and ask for directions to the bathroom in the most terrible Italian I can muster, to get a rise out of him, but he merely blinks my way.

Okay then.

"It'll have to do," he replies, pulling his phone from his pocket and opening an app.

The first picture he shows me is of a lovely older couple.

"Vittoria and Alessandro Bianchi. Sicilian chapter.

" I nod between each and every picture, filing away the information in my brain, doing my best to ignore the low cadence in his deep voice, lulling me to sleep.

I jolt awake as the plane's wheels come down, facing a snoozing Maksim. His warm hand is on my stomach, and I'm under the comforter that was in the bedroom. This small gesture touches me, and for a moment, I let myself really look at him, drinking in his rogue, relaxed features.

The bronzed olive tone of his skin, prominent brow, dark, long lashes, high cheekbones, wide set, plump lips, and the scruff of his beard beginning poking through.

A curl has come loose and forward on his forehead, and I have to fight the urge to sweep it to the side.

Yes, my husband is a handsome brute. An image of Parker dances in the back of my brain, and for a split second, I feel guilty for being attracted to Maksim.

Even though I'm celibate, I still have eyes. I am a woman, after all. I'd have to be blind to not notice that he's a beautiful man.

His eyelids flutter, and when dark eyes meet mine, his brows pin together. "Have we landed?" His voice is scratchy with an undertone of a sleepy purr.

Fuck me, there go my pink parts.