Page 52 of Vicious Kingdom (Dynasty of Queens #3)
T he nonsense with the anklet was over. Today, I was escorted to court, where, flanked by the best lawyer money could buy, I was exonerated. There was no apology for the house arrest, no threat that it would happen again if I set one toe out of line.
Someone powerful was pulling the strings, showing me his weight. I knew who, and I was ready to destroy him. The politician wouldn’t make it to election day.
The lock clicked open. Something about that sound sent a premonition flicking through me. There was nothing to dread about coming home. No reason to worry.
Except…. She never came to bed last night.
I yawned, feeling exhaustion’s extreme pull.
I didn’t sleep, not a wink, as I waited for her.
When I finally rose to check on her, I saw the light from under her door.
My ear pressed against the wood heard the tap-tap of her keys.
She’d been up all night too, choosing to write rather than sneak into our bed.
“This ends now,” I whispered to myself. Tonight, I was bringing her back to bed.
My dick jumped at the idea, but I mentally slapped him. We could cuddle, we could sleep without touching. Whatever she wanted, so long as she was where she belonged.
Because lying next to me was exactly that.
I opened the door, a smile on my lips ready to greet her.
Only to find the main floor empty.
Maybe she was napping. I walked up the stairs only to find the guest room door open. The space unoccupied.
As I checked each room, my heartrate doubled. Where the hell was she? This was a large, luxury unit, but in terms of living space, there weren’t many places for her to hide.
Returning to the kitchen, I pulled up the trackers. They all said she was here.
Had she found them and left? There was no way.
The last one said it was here, but farther from the main area than the rest. No, she had to be in the building.
I rushed from the front door, stabbed the elevator in the hall, and shifted back and forth.
The amenities on the second floor were the next logical places, but as I waited for the lift, my gaze snaked to the roof access at the end of the hall.
There was no conceivable reason for her to go there, but something inside me told me to check.
I rushed down the short length of hall. Mine was the only unit up here, so it wasn’t like she was with a neighbor.
But the more I thought of it, the more logical it seemed.
I flew up the maintenance stairs and burst out the door.
Chicago’s wind snapped in my face, a suffocating, brutal greeting. The midsummer sun might have set an hour ago, but it didn’t take the sweltering heat with it. No, that lingered in the crevices, baked into the very material this structure was made from.
Just when I thought the roof was empty, I heard it.
A sigh mingled with the breeze.
I looked around a ventilation chimney, and there, curled into a ball, sat my wife.
Heart in my damn throat, I scanned her for injuries. Seeing none, I approached.
“Hi there, little one,” I said softly, not wanting to frighten her.
Annaliese turned. Her face was tearstained. Her eyes were puffy.
My knees cracked as I knelt in front of her. I was about to demand what happened, but my tongue resisted the urge from my mind, and what came out instead was something better.
“I missed you today, Anna.” I held out my hands, palms up. “I was hoping we could make that dinner we never got to last night.”
She sighed, body trembling. “Why would you want to do something as mundane as cooking with me?”
“Because,” I said simply, “I enjoy spending time with you. It’s all I could think about.”
She snorted in disbelief.
“I cut a meeting short to come home early,” I added, letting her know the truth.
It was pathetic. The business partners who’d taken over a business I was restructuring would have mocked me if they knew why I called the abrupt stop to our meeting.
But Annaliese needed to know. It was time I started telling her how important she was, how I valued our time together.
“We can sit up here, if you’d like, but the AC is on downstairs.” I pushed my hands a little closer to her.
Annaliese looked at them, then lifted her gaze to meet mine—then began a fresh burst of tears.
“Cara mia,” I groaned, feeling a terrible weight of grief. “You can come to me. I’m strong enough. Strong enough for both of us.”
The shake of her head covered her face in the short strands of hair. I pushed them away.
“Do you…have a…tissue?” she stammered.
“Merda, no.” I shrugged out of my suit jacket and offered it to her.
Annaliese recoiled. “That’s a designer label.”
“And if you think for one second it’s too fucking good for your tears and nose, you’re crazy,” I countered.
The intention was sweet, but she only cried harder.
“There, there,” I muttered, not knowing what the hell to say. I dabbed at her cheeks and bent the sleeve for her nose. “Be a good girl and blow.”
She struggled away, and the look in her eye said I was crazy. I probably was.
I wrestled her into my arms, being as gentle as possible, then put the jacket to her nose again. When she realized resistance was futile, she blew.
“There you go. Feel better?” I pressed a kiss on her forehead.
She stilled, frozen in indecision.
Then in a brilliant flash, she turned into me, wrapping her arms around my neck and clutching me tight, and she sobbed into my shoulder.
She chose me. Chose me to comfort her through this struggle.
I held her close, feeling the wetness of her tears soak through the thin dress shirt. Settling on my butt, I drew her onto my lap.
“When you’re ready, you’re going to tell me what happened, okay?” I stroked her hair. “I can take it, Anna.”
She whimpered, the sound so lost and forlorn, but she nodded.
I continued to stroke her, and I fought the mental suggestions, each a more terrible explanation for what happened than the next.
“He’s dead.”
The words were so soft, if they hadn’t been spoken damn near in my ear, I would have missed it.
Up and down, I stroked her spine. “Who, precious? Who’s dead?”
“My dad.”
Vertigo tricked me with the next rush of wind. The building seemed to tip and sway beneath us. I clutched her tighter.
“Your…dad?”
Annaliese nodded. “It was horrible. I found him dead—at his office.”
“Who would—” I stopped myself. She didn’t need problem solving. She needed comfort.
I picked her up as she began to rattle out words. From the garbled, unconnected thoughts, I began to piece together the story. By the time I set her on the counter in the kitchen and poured her a glass of water, she seemed…defeated.
“Why are you being so nice to me?” she murmured.
How could she even ask that?
Because, you idiot, she expects you to be cruel.
“Annaliese, I need you to listen and listen close. When you hurt, I hurt. When you’re bursting with joy, it’s infectious, and I’ll gladly catch the disease.
When you’re tired, you lay with me. If you’re hungry, I feed you.
That’s how this—” I gestured between us “—works. And I’m so sorry I’ve been fighting it. That won’t happen again.”
“But don’t you get it, Leo? Dad is dead. You’re free.”
Her words cut deep, scathing knife strokes to my chest. I clutched her to me, the water tipping and spilling on us both.
“Fine, the blackmail is pointless, but I’m not letting you go.”
She protested, but I cut her off.
“Annaliese, from the moment you chose me five damn years ago, I was yours. I just didn’t see it until recently, okay? But I see it. I see it now.” I cupped her cheek and placed a gentle kiss on her lips.
More tears spilt from her eyes, but she kissed me back. Her lips were soft but insistent, and those fingers likewise gripped at me, as if her body believed me, despite the chaos in her mind.
“Now, let me feed you, let me hold you,” I murmured against her mouth. “Let me help you bear this.”
“I don’t deserve it.”
“Yes, you do,” I said fiercely.
“My parents didn’t think I did,” she countered. “My grandma in Germany didn’t either.”
“Idiots. All of them.” I hugged her tight. “I was too.”
She snorted. “No, even when you were mad, you were never cold and unfeeling. You were the first person to give me something I never had but always craved.”
“What’s that?” I pulled back to watch her.
She lifted her shoulder. “Love.”