I wanted to tell her that it absolutely was going to happen again. And often. In different locations. From different angles. I was going to learn every inch of her body, was going to find all her little hotspots, so I could use them to torture her with her need for release.
But it would only piss her off more to say it.
I could let her stew in her anger for a while.
I imagined she would be all the hotter for me if she was angry with me.
I was going to see for myself eventually.
But first, I had to figure out who was coming for my Family this week.
Then show them exactly why all the rumors about me being a ruthless monster were true.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Isabella
“What a joke,” I grumbled, watching as Primo walked up the steps of the church across the street, going in for Sunday service like a good little observer of the Bible.
We were going on day six of me not being allowed to leave the apartment.
I never truly understood the concept of “cabin fever” before. But I was becoming intimately acquainted with it then.
See, I’d never truly been in the house for more than maybe two days in a row except that one time I had the flu, and my fever was so bad that I was delirious, so I wasn’t even aware of the passing of time.
Life made it impossible not to leave the house.
In my old life, I had to work. I had errands. I had a demanding family who wanted to see me frequently.
But I didn’t have to work anymore. The groceries were delivered by Primo’s brothers. And I wasn’t allowed to see my family.
So there was no reason I had to leave the building.
Except, of course, the fact that I was going absolutely insane.
That seemed dramatic. I mean, wasn’t six days at home with absolutely no responsibilities the dream for most people? And here I was, annoyed about it. But the difference was, this hadn’t been a choice I’d made. It was something that was forced on me because of some ridiculous notion Primo got in his head about me not being safe, even if I never went anywhere without his brothers as bodyguards.
Meanwhile, his carefree ass got to go to church with the rest of the neighborhood, putting on the mask of “one of the good guys” while he kept the wife he’d acquired through force locked up in the building across the street.
Yeah, he was a real prince, that one.
Luckily for me, he’d been busy the past week. Doing what, I had no idea. But it didn’t matter. All that mattered was he wasn’t around pestering me, saying things he had no business saying to my body that hadn’t exactly gotten the memo that I decided to be right back to hating him.
Oh, and to add to the column of good things, the day he told me I was now a prisoner in a fancy jail, I’d also managed to get my period. I guess the rough sex had brought it on early. And thank God because I’d woken up still sick to my stomach that morning and all I could hear was my mom’s voice in my head as she said she knew it the next morning that she was pregnant with each of us because she was immediately nauseated in the mornings.
But, yeah, that was one crisis averted and over with. Though a part of me was wondering if maybe it wouldn’t have been good to actually be pregnant from that bathroom session because then it would be over with. Primo would have his heir. And I would never have to let him touch me again.
Plus, you know, I’d get to be a mom. Which was something I’d always wanted. Even if I did have to share the baby with Primo.
At least it would give my floundering life a little purpose now that I had no job and no family to fill my days.
Oh, well.
It was an opportunity lost, regardless.
Aunt Flo had come and gone, so there was no baby in my immediate future.
Which meant that I would have to sleep with Primo again in the future.
My stupid body thrilled at the idea, making me let out a whimper as I bumped my forehead against the wall beside the windows to the street.
Not only was I going stir crazy in the apartment, but I felt like a freaking wild animal in heat. I’d always figured I had an average enough sex drive. But all of a sudden, I literally couldn’t think about anything else.
I tried to convince myself it was because I had nothing else going on. I couldn’t fool myself completely, though. And the hard truth was, despite how I felt about him on a personal level, my stupid body craved Primo. Especially now that I’d gotten a taste of what he had to offer sexually.
“Ahem,” a voice said, making me jolt and turn.
Because it wasn’t one of Primo’s brothers.
No.
It was a female voice.
“Sorry, didn’t mean to startle you,” she said, giving me a tight smile as I took in the woman standing in the living room.
She was pretty. Tall, lithe, with blonde hair and blue eyes, and wearing a long-sleeved button-up shirt and a skirt.
“I’m Cassidy,” she said, as if that meant something to me. At my blank look, she added, “The housekeeper.”
Oh.
Okay.
Yeah, I knew she showed up on occasion. But in the past, it always seemed to happen when I was out with Primo’s brothers.
Now that I was in lockdown for who knew how long, I guess I would run into her on occasion. Which felt really awkward. Who wanted to stand around while someone else cleaned their house?
“Oh, right,” I said, nodding, starting to smile before some other thoughts started to form.
Like what kind of housekeeper came to work in a skirt?
The kind that wanted to fuck your husband, that’s who.
I already knew from Primo himself that this Cassidy woman sucked him off whenever he wanted a release. Clearly, though, she wanted it to be more than just time on her knees.
He was a married man.
It didn’t matter that it was a sham of a marriage. It didn’t matter that I wasn’t a willing participant in it. What mattered was it was an undeniable fact that Primo was my husband. And this bitch still thought she would put any part of her body on his.
I didn’t like to think of women in derogatory terms.
And the vast majority of the time, if your man cheated, the woman he cheated with likely had no idea that you even existed. So you couldn’t even be angry with her.
Every once in a while, though, there was a case where the woman knew. And just didn’t care. Didn’t have enough respect not to put her hands on someone who belonged to someone else.
And that was, well, a bitch.
Because no one deserved to be cheated on.
Not even me with my bullshit marriage.
“Well,” I said, waving around as I went to grab my cup of coffee, “don’t let me get in your way. Oh, and the cabinets could use to be cleaned out and scrubbed.”
Was my tone set pretty firmly at Ice-Queen-Level? Yes. Yes, absolutely. Judging by the spark of anger I saw in her pretty blue eyes, she wasn’t happy about me being there. Or about me making demands on her. In my own goddamn house. Where she was supposed to be working. And not on her knees or her back.
Before I could get any more irritated, I took myself upstairs to get myself dressed. A part of me wondered why the hell I bothered to get out of my pajamas at all, let alone put on makeup, and especially slipping heels on my feet. It wasn’t looking like I would be able to go anywhere for a good, long while. Maybe it was silly, but taking time to put myself together gave my days at least a little structure. If I got myself dressed for the day, then I had to get myself undressed later, taking off my makeup, getting into new pajamas. It would be too easy to fall into depression if I didn’t put a little effort in.