Page 118 of Brutal Revenge

“Mr. Caruso.” Azra’s voice is the highest it’s been all night. “I… ah…”

She’s worried Papa will be as furious as I thought her father would be when I disclosed his only daughter was about to marry a monster.

She has no cause to fret.

“Your dress is stunning, Azra, and the reception was lovely.” He presses kisses to each of her cheeks. “Welcome to the family.”

Azra blushes. “Thank you, Mr. Caruso.”

“As I’ve told you previously, please call me Papa.” That sly dog. He knew this would be the outcome when he forced me to go along with Azra’s plan. I don’t know how he knew, but I’d recognize his scheming face anywhere. “It’s quicker to shout when you need help to pull him into line, which I’m certain you’ll face in the next day or two.”

Azra laughs softly, the sound so sweet it causes my chest to ache. “IfI need any help, you’ll be the first person I call.” Her tone lowers to something edging on playfulness. “But I think I’ve got this covered.”

“I have no doubt.”

After slapping my shoulder, Papa leaves, and Azra’s smile drops like a guillotine blade.

“I’ve heard rumors your father is adamant that his sons will uphold his beliefs of matrimony, particularly monogamy.”

I tug at the collar of my shirt. Mercifully, Dante didn’t return my serve when he collected me a suit. The hem of my pants reaches my ankles, though I’d be a liar if I said the material wasn’t itchy as fuck. I’ve been scratching like I have lice all night.

“Not a rumor.”

Like a pussy-whipped fool, I fall straight into Azra’s trap. “Then I wonder what he’ll say about the waitress you took home last night hanging around after our reception with the hope of round two?”

“Waitress?” I ask, genuinely dumbfounded.

She gestures subtly toward a woman in a black uniform collecting empty champagne flutes. She could be the waitress from last night, but I can’t confidently declare that. I am unwilling to take my eyes off my wife to see if any of her features register as familiar, and in all honesty, I wouldn’t give a fuck if she offered to serve me pre-dinner drinks naked.

That’s how disinterested I am.

Jealousy creeps up Azra’s neck when the blonde wiggles her fingers my way. She hates that she’s jealous. I fucking love it.

I try not to smile when she instinctively tilts in closer, wordlessly staking her claim. However, a ghostlike one tugs at my lips.

It’s barely visible, but Azra still notices it. “Wipethatoff your face.”

“Can’t,” I murmur, deciding honesty should always be the route I take with her. “It’s stuck.” She rolls her eyes, tripling her sexiness. “You’re so fucking beautiful when you’re jealous.”

“And you’re infuriatingly stupid. I amnotjealous.”

“Stupid for you,” I say, coasting closer. “Onlyfor you.” This time, her eye roll freezes halfway around. “I didn’t touch the waitress, neither last night nor tonight. I couldn’t.” Her eyes snap to mine so fast I growdizzy. “Even while thinking you picked him over me, I couldn’t touch anyone.”

A million questions stream through her eyes, but not a single one escapes her lips. She wants to call me a liar, and she has every right when my desperation to get her away from Antonio had me pulling out my biggest lie to date, but she can’t because she sees the truth in my eyes.

She knows right here and now that I’m not lying.

“Tell me what I need to do to make this right. I’ll do anything you ask.”

She doesn’t hesitate. “Tell them you lied and then annul our marriage.”

I ball my hands at her words, but my anger is cool enough to talk through it. “No.”

Her eyes widen. “No? You just said you’ll do anything I ask.”

“I will do anything you ask,” I repeat, firmer this time. “Anythingbutthat.”

She doesn’t look at the guest she’s hugging farewell. Her eyes remain locked on mine as her anger boils over. “You don’t get to refuse.”