Page 35 of Where Quiet Hearts Scream (Dark Hearts #3)

Andreas is either oblivious or unaffected. “Trust me, Governor. There will be much to gain.”

Grayson’s hand slides further up my thigh, unbeknown to him hovering above the scars. He squeezes clumsily, his sweaty palm sticking to the fabric. I stare at Andreas, silently begging him to realize what’s going on beneath the table.

Or, does he already know?

“Like what exactly?” Grayson’s voice is suddenly gruff.

“Anything,” Andreas shrugs. “Shares, unions, direction in the south…”

Grayson’s throbbing hand moves higher still until it’s cupping my sex. I gasp in alarm.

Andreas flicks his gaze to me and for the first time this evening, there’s a thread of annoyance in them. My heart drops and my head feels light. Was this my husband’s intention all along? To use me to gain the approval of his dirty contacts? To pimp me out to advance his own agenda?

I thought I was beginning to see some warmth and compassion in his behavior, but all I really saw was his attempt to prepare me for this —my role as a pawn in his dirty business deals.

“Anything…” Andreas replies, in a low, conspiratorial voice. My heart turns to stone in the base of my stomach. His eyes dart to me again and I can’t tell anymore if they carry a warning or a threat. “…can be negotiated.”

Grayson’s fingers dig into my dress and press against me. I stifle a sob at the base of my throat.

“That’s reassuring to know,” he says, the words breaking at the edges. Then his hand slides away and I jam my thighs together.

As soon as conversation returns to superficial pleasantries I make my excuses to visit the restroom. Once inside, I sit on a toilet seat and press my face into my hands.

I can’t cry. I can’t cry. I can’t cry.

I mustn’t draw attention to how terrified I am, because these men feed off weakness. But my brain is whirring. What have I been married into? Slavery? Does Cristiano know about this? Does Trilby?

Everyone wanted this marriage but me. Everyone saw how an alliance with Andreas would benefit the family. That seemed to come before everything, including my feelings, my dreams.

The truth tastes like a bleeding finger.

Sour, metallic and with a sting that feels even worse than it looks.

My husband wants me to sleep with another man.

That’s why he wants me well. So the cutting stops, the scars heal and the view is more appealing.

I turn around and face the toilet bowl but nothing comes up.

Despite that, every part of me is shaking. Quivering. I need to calm down before I walk back out there. Now that I’ve seen how ruthless Andreas is, I can’t imagine what he will do to me if I ruin his plans by not being the polite, compliant little wife he bargained for.

I take some deep breaths then open the door of the cubicle.

Another shock awaits me. Governor Grayson’s wife is bent over the counter sniffing a long line of white powder. She pops upright with a blissful snort and holds out a rolled fifty. “Want some?”

I shake my head, unable to trust the words likely to come out of my mouth right now, and turn on the faucet.

“I must say,” she starts, “I’m surprised the great Corioni would bargain with his own wife.”

Now, I feel sick.

A small fraction of me was still hoping I’d misunderstood Andreas’ words but Grayson’s wife has just confirmed them. I rinse my hands under the hot water, willing them to burn. Anything to feel pain greater than the throbbing inside my chest.

“I’d always imagined that whatever or whomever Andreas made his, no one else could touch. Clearly, his business is more important than I’d given him credit for.”

With no outlet for my emotions, I feel a twist of anger start to unfurl somewhere deep inside me.

She doesn’t relent.

“I must say, I was surprised when he brought you to the dinner last week. I didn’t have him down as someone who’d want a short, chubby redhead, let alone marry one. My husband on the other hand… he’ll take whatever he can get his grubby hands on.”

The anger turns to hate and I can’t stop my lips from moving.

I smile the sweet, compliant wife smile that everyone seems to expect from me and look directly into her dazed, clouded eyes. “I guess that must be why he chose you.”

She peers back at me, unable to focus, and her mouth opens and closes like a fish. My goodness, I’ve managed to make a coked-up person speechless.

Guilt brings me back to earth as, with every step I take back to the table, I realize with dread what I’ve done.

I’ve just insulted the wife of the man my husband needs in order to get his vision off the ground.

But then I remember Andreas’ icy gaze as he outlined the benefits Grayson would realize from this technology plant, and I know for a fact it would take more than a bitchy remark between women to interrupt his plans, not when there are benefits to be had for everyone involved.

The rest of the evening passes in a slow blur. I spend most of it staring out at the darkened ocean, wishing I could just jump into it and swim far away.

When Andreas takes my hand to leave, I let it hang limply in his grip, hatred sizzling in my fingertips.

I don’t say a word as we’re driven home and I fix my stare out the window—anything to distract me from the sound of filled nostrils and cracking knuckles.