I’d always been raised to believe women were precious pieces of crystal to be handled with gloves, lest their fragile minds and bodies shatter. My dad had treated my mom with kid gloves, hiding his business out of respect for her. He’d created a safe bubble for her to exist in.
Even physically, I knew Anita wouldn’t lie on her back and let me take her. If I ever bedded her, god willing, I knew she’d leave me with red tracks from her nails. She was a vixen, and I knew she’d take her own pleasure. Maybe before I’d ruined everything, she would have kept that side of her hidden. She’d tried to be the wife she thought I needed, docile and pleasant. Just as I’d tried to be the husband she deserved. A provider, not a killer.
She had to hide because underneath her facade was a monster, unhindered by morals, conscience, or light.
We were one and the same. Two twin devils lurking in the shadows.
Anita was The Gardener.
Bile lurched into the back of my mouth, slathering my tongue in the bitter, cold truth. A pain as sharp as a heated blade twisted in my lower stomach, the hilt turning until water pricked my eye ducts. How could I have been so foolish? She’d told me a million times who she was, and I’d missed it every time.
The revelation must have shown on my face because Paolo’s eyes widened, and he took a step back.
“You thought we’d suit each other because we’re both dangerous. Right? That’s why The Gardener wouldn’t work with me…” I cut off my thoughts with a hysterical laugh.
The Gardener wasn’t displeased because he wanted my wife for himself.
My views had blinded me to the true power my clever wife had wielded all along.
“I won’t—” Paolo started, but I waved his protestations off, tucking my gun in my waistband. Everything in the roomglimmered in a new light, sharp and blinding. I rubbed my eyes, stars clouding my vision.
“You’re her right-hand man.” I hummed. The intensity of the emotion inside of me was bubbling down to a simmer. Her cousin, who was more of a brother. He slipped around this world with ease because he had the one thing Anita did not. A cock and balls hanging between his legs.
No one would believe me if I told them. Hell, I hadn’t even believed it.
It had been right in my face, and I’d missed it. Blinded by the persistent belief my wife was what I imagined all women to be. Innocent, naïve, and in need of my protection. I’d watched my dad provide everything for my mom, shielding her from the outside world. He’d been meticulous about even letting her leave the house unaccompanied. I wasn’t that pedantic, but I’d still thought her the same. Someone who needed my strength.
What a fool she must think I am.
She wasn’t wrong.
My blood scorched like lava through my veins, and I blew out a sharp exhale.
“Who else knows?” My mind was a riot of thoughts, all the things I had missed. The first time I’d sat next to her, I deliberately pressed my thigh into her space. For a moment, her dark gaze had halted me, and I believe it was my subconscious in her thrall. My gut had known what she was, but then her cheeks pinked, and I ignored every other aberration that came afterward.
There was a sense of titillation that my wife had played me so easily. She’d plucked at my strings like a puppet, and it was only when she lost her temper that she’d let her true identity peek out. The brief show haunted my dreams. I ached to peel back the iron shield and have her come at me again. Coax her to match her devious claws against my power and see who the victor was.
But we hadn’t been playing a fair competition. Now we were.
I knew who she was, and I was going to unravel all my deadly wife’s secrets. My heart thundered against its cage, hungry to reveal my knowledge. To see her icy mask melt into blistering rage. But I knew this was best done cold, as she had been to me.
The remaining man in the room was a problem, and I stalked forward, wrapping my fingers around his throat. Paolo’s eyes bulged as I tightened my hold, strangling the unconscious, feeble cries of the man. His pulse faltered, faint against my hard grip.
Paolo shook his head, still refusing to answer. I dipped my head at him in approval. My wife had a loyal man on her side. Now she had two. Her fury would be delicious to behold when I revealed I knew who she was.
The door slammed open, and a lower-level guard burst in, blanching at the gory sight in front of him. Whip thin with the shade of youth clinging to his soft jawline. He tripped on the hem of his brown, wide-legged trousers as his face turned green. He backed out into the hall, retching.
“I asked not to be disturbed,” I said as I followed him, rolling my eyes as he leaned over and coughed.
Paolo slapped him on the back, and we shared a wry look.
If the kid couldn’t handle seeing blood, he would not last long.
“I-I-I was sent to tell you the news,” He wheezed, eyes wild and watering when he looked up. “He’s dead. Mr. Orazio needs to see you immediately.”
My back stiffened.
“Who? Who are you talking about?” I barked, shoving past him, and taking the stairs two at a time. His voice carried with a warble.
