Page 30 of The Viper's Wife

In the meantime, Stefano isn’t going anywhere. The dumbass can sweat.

I step into Valeria’s personal space, inhaling cookies and bleach as I lean over her shoulder.

She tenderly cups a marble-sized diamond ring like she’s scared of scratching it.

“It’s very big,” she says coolly. “I’ll pick out something smaller.”

My mouth brushes against her hair. “Try it on.”

She doesn’t move.

Minnie, like she remembered those college funds are at stake, jumps into action. “Now that’s a gorgeous ring. It’s an emerald cut with excellent symmetry and polish. You’re probably too young, but it’s modeled after Grace Kelly’s engagement ring. Wow! It’s a perfect fit, too. You could be a hand model, Mrs. Matassa.”

Mrs. Matassa. It’s the first time I’ve heard the name spoken out loud, and it stokes satisfaction through me.

Valeria doesn’t seem to hear us as she looks at the diamond on her splayed hand. She does have the long, elegant fingers of a model. She knows how to use them too. I remember those hands pumping me with long, sure strokes.

She glances at me from under her dark lashes. “It’s very expensive,” she says softly. “I want the other ring.”

I’m touching her jaw before I realize it. “You’re a Matassa now. Don’t worry about the price.”

Her eyes widen a fraction. She looks a little dazed.

“We’ll get both rings,” I say.

Minnie smiles.

After I tap my card, we walk out of the store, the expensive ring on Valeria’s left hand and her right hand tucked into mine. Stefano sprints down the road to fetch my Ferrari.

The night chill nips at my exposed skin. Cold air billows out of Valeria’s mouth as she inspects a tree next to us, the thin branches bare save for a few spring-green leaves desperately budding.

She’s so composed. In my circle, most of the women who act like her are built like glass, one missed Xanax away from a total breakdown. A few are truly ruthless, their calm a mask for sadistic, power-hungry tendencies.

I bite back a sigh. Basket case or black widow? Which will be my new bride?

A shiver rolls through her, and she reaches absentmindedly for her jacket on my arm.

“You’re coming to my place tonight,” I tell her.

Her gaze flicks to me, and I realize how relaxed she’d been a moment ago as her features tighten into a scowl.

“Absolutely not.”

“We need to talk. We should get to know each other a little better, don’t you think?”

She jerks on her jacket sleeve and pouts. “We know each other plenty.”

I yank on the jacket, and she comes tumbling into my chest, before swiveling that burning glare back to me. If looks could kill, she’d have me six feet under.

“I want to know more than what you look like naked, but if you insist…”

The Ferrari roars to a stop next to us. I wrap an arm around Valeria’s waist, pinning her to my side like a struggling butterfly to a board.

Stefano comes running around the front of the car, grinning. “You have a real beauty there?—”

“Stefano,” I snap, remembering his shit existence. “Do you know who gave Valeria those bruises?”

Against my side, Valeria stiffens.