Page 24 of Revenge

It’s that realization, more than anything, that strengthens my resolve to get myself out of this unhealthy, dangerous situation.

There has to be a way to unbind myself from Antonio.

I realize I’m walking swiftly across the length of the yacht with no particular destination in mind, other than getting away from Antonio. I end up near the helm and through the window of the console, I’m startled to see a face I recognize.

Shawn Hennessey, my father’s yacht captain.

It’s funny how in dire circumstances a familiar face–one that normally would only cause me to feel a shrug of boredom–could fill me with such pleasure.

“Shawn!” I beam the first smile that’s cracked my face in at least thirty-six hours.

“Dahlia!” He flicks a nervous glance in both directions, then cracks open the door to the cockpit and pulls me through it and into a hug. Then he whisper-hisses in my ear, “Your father sent me a message for you. He said he’s going to get us both out of this.”

Hearing footsteps outside, I pull myself out of his grasp. “It’s good to see you!” I say loudly.

Antonio growls behind me, “Hands off my wife, or I will cut them off and throw them to the fucking sharks.”

His wife.

The words send shockwaves through my body.

“Antonio!” I jerk back, putting at least three feet between me and the captain. “Stop. He’s a family friend–I mean, an employee, that’s all.”

I thank God for Antonio’s apparent jealousy. It seems to have distracted him from realizing Shawn passed me a message.

“He’s nothing to you.” Antonio says it like a warning. “You come near this stronzo again, and I will throw him overboard. Are we clear?”

It’s perfect. I should be terrified. Appalled. But something warm slithers through my chest.

Antonio’s alpha male possessiveness is over the top and absurd. But in addition to it serving as a distraction, it gets me hot. I like him staking his claim over me. It turns me on. I craved this man’s attention, and now I have it. And with it comes a sense of power.

I place my hand in the center of his chest and give him a push. He allows me to back him out of the cockpit.

“Relax. I was just saying hello.”

Antonio’s face is still twisted in a scowl.

“You basically abducted me. You took me from my family onto a vessel with complete strangers. It shouldn’t shock you that I’d be happy to see a familiar face.”

Some of his irritation seems to ease.

He pulls me toward him and tucks me under his arm to escort me toward our bedroom. “Don’t speak to him again.”

I refuse to agree.

“Dahlia,” he warns. “Do you want him dead?”

This is too much. I stop, digging my heels in, so Antonio has to stop, too. “You can’t kill everyone I talk to.”

He raises his brows and pierces me with a cold gaze. “Try me. You’re my wife. I would murder anyone who touches or disrespects you.”

I shiver. “You really are a monster, aren’t you?”

His expression contorts, the cold mask breaking to show that I hit a nerve, but then he quickly recovers. “I am what your family made me.”

I scoff. “My family isn’t mafia. Yours is.” I lift my nose in the air and take on a goody-two-shoes air. “Blaming others for your own failings is a bad look on you.”

“And stuck-up snob is a bad look on you.”