Page 69 of Scream
"I'll still make appearances. I won't disappear entirely. I just think once this year is behind us, we can just... live apart. You can... you can do whatever or whomever you please. And after a few years, when there's been no heir... you can blame it on me. My womb. Whatever. I'm sure the families will understand a divorce once I don’t produce an heir."
They wouldn't. And shewillproduce my heirs.
"It wouldn't hurt you, to see another woman on my arm?" I ask thickly, my eyes searching hers.
She lifts a shoulder and lets it drop with a shake of her head. "I've seen the women you have on your arm and no. I look nothing like them. I know I'm not your type. I settled with that long before we were married. I know you'll bed those women, and I made peace with that along time ago. I'm not here to keep you from going after what you want, Maksim – women included."
How couldn't she see she isexactlymy type? Three-point-three million dollars. That is what I wanted, wasn't it? I didn't fucking want a wife, but now I don'tnotwant one – and the one I want, is her.
I can't imagine her not in my future. Can't imagine a day when I come home and she's not buzzing around in my kitchen like a little bee or staring down one of her cupcakes like a worthy adversary. I can't imagine not smelling her perfume, or her scent of warm sugar, cinnamon, and whatever she used to bake that day. I can't imagine not hearing her sing terribly to whatever song is on her playlist, thinking I'm not watching. I can't imagine our penthouse going back to monochrome and monotone. Those little dashes of pink - oflife– here and there, making it ours.
I stand from where I'm sitting, and if I look dangerous, she shows it by shrinking in front of me. I reach for her, crushing her delicious body to me, until we're chest to ribs. I tilt her chin up to look at me, relishing in the way she shivers at my touch but doesn’t shove me away – only leaning into me. My wifewilllove me. "Only in death will you ever get away from me, Duchess. Even then, be prepared for me to find you in the ether, or heaven or hell, where you go, I will find you. And you will forever be my bride."
She lets out a small whimper when my hand encases her throat like a lovely choker for a second, before my fingers flow to the valley between her ample breasts. I find her hand and place it on my ever-stiffening cock. Her lips part, and her pupils dilate until the green is but a tiny ring around the black.
"Feel what you do to me, wife. From the moment I saw you and knew you were to be mine; I have been like this. I think of you as soon as I wake up, throughout my day, before I sleep and even then, I'm haunted by nothing but images of you," I take advantage of her lips being parted and bend down, lowering my lips to hers, but not kissing. Not devouring the way I should be. "And I have to fist my cock and come with your name on my lips, so I can concentrate, only for my thoughts to come back to you. Always you, Cara Mia. I love that you haunt me every second of every day. Morning, noon, and night. I get no peace. Not even in my dreams. Every glimpse of you is nothing short of paradise, Raggio."Ray.
"Don't call me that. I'm anything but a ray of fucking sunshine. I haven’t been light or bright or sunshine-y in a very long time." She replies, her breath mingling with mine, but I know my time of being ableto hold her like this is coming to an end, and I swear she's fighting not to squeeze my cock, her fingers twitch and I let out a small groan.
"You may no longer be the sun, Duchess, but you are the sliver of moonlight old sailors prayed for to guide them through dark, treacherous waters. And that's greater to the ones you impact than you could ever imagine."
With that I let her go. "There is no evading nor avoiding me,Little Moonbeam. You and I arebound. Understand that now. Pack your shit. You’re coming home with me. End of discussion. You are my wife; you reside with me.”
“No.” she says firmly.
“I’m not fucking around, Sabrina.” I growl, hoping it doesn't sound as exasperated as I feel.
“Neither am I, Maksim. I want to stay here for the weekend. Please. I need to get away from that desolate, arctic penthouse and breathe in my space. I know you don’t understand, but I can’t breathe properly there. I can’t sleep properly there. I’mdyingthere, Maksim. Soplease. Give me one weekend of respite. I’ll come back. I swear.”
Dying there.She's been giving me life with mere glimpses of her, and she's beendying. Guilt hits me, souring my mood further. I know I don’t spend enough time with her at home and I need to change that.
“When?” I growl.
“S-Sunday night,” she stammers quietly, green eyes wide and pleading.
So I relent. “Fine.”
Then I leave, impatiently waiting for Sunday – for my wife to come home to me. With one thought on my mind: by then, I’ll only have three hundred and forty-one days to make my wife fall in love with me.
Niko walks into my office wearing his usual black on black suit and tie, holding a manilla file with Sasha – my enforcer – following behind him. They close the door and sit in front of my desk in the new suede wingback chairs I had Jonny order, getting rid of the leather ones in case Sabrina ever comes here, so she'll be comfortable when she sits. I immediately stand, grab three tumblers from my personal bar, and pour us a shot of SokoloVodka.
It's Sunday morning now, day three hundred and forty-one. Too soon I'll be going to my empty, too quiet penthouse to rest. I would've been there sooner, but I have to fix payroll for the fight last night. Usually Jonny's on this, but his mother is older and needs help at times, so I let him go home early to be with her. Besides, I don't exactly know what time my wife will be home, only that she said she'll be home tonight.
I hand my men their drinks and sit back down. “So, what do you have for me?”
“Harley's real name is Emilia Fontaine. Foster runaway at sixteen. She's eighteen now. She was caught a few times sleeping under a few bridges by one Officer Ryan Donahue. No arrests. No drugs. But… I watched a few old recordings from his body cam footages and uh… seems he never drove Miss Harley to a shelter, and none of the women's shelters around here know her. By her real name or by Harley.”
I take a sip of the vodka. “What do you mean?”
“Body cam footage shows Donahue picking her up… but it cuts off once they get in the cruiser - doesn't show him taking her anywhere.”
“You think he took her home?” I ask.
Sasha shrugs his heavy shoulders. He's an older guy but still fit as fuck. I should know, I train with him.
“This is a displeasure. I knew Donahue was a dirty motherfucker. I just didn't think he was that dirty.” I sigh. “Niko,” I shift my gaze to his. “Have Aleks dig into Donahue a little further. See if he can somehow hack into his phone or his home computer. If we can find anything on him with underage girls, I want to know. Extortion is the best thing we have, but if he steps foot in here, do me a favor and escort him to the Lower Level immediately.”
“Alright.” He says, dipping his chin but they don't get up to leave.
