Page 37 of Vicious Impulses (The Capo and Ballerina)
The words leave me in a coy tone that doesn’t even sound like myself. Coyness has never been my forte. But the silky sound of my voice and small smile I give him reveals I’m subconsciously channeling Ms. Poitier’s advice.
I’m attempting to catch a fly with honey.
As we dine, I rack my brain for topics to discuss.
“Did you have a busy day?” I ask.
Caelian cuts into his large slab of ribeye steak and surveys me with open suspicion. “Now you’re making conversation. I’m almost wondering if this is a ruse.”
“No ruse. Just… just earlier today… I really appreciate you letting me have a dance studio.”
He grunts midchew, looking the part of some kind of barbarian king in his throne with his feast, even despite the expensive black button-up shirt he’s wearing. “You disobeyed me this morning, Nevaeh. I hope it’s the last time.”
I bite my tongue and stifle the urge to bicker. “Yes. I promise it won’t happen again.”
“Good. Your place is here with me.”
“But will I…” I breathe slowly, trying to remain sweet like advised. “Will I ever be able to go other places?Outsideof your estate?”
“No.”
“Caelian—”
“What did I just say?” he snaps, his cold gray eyes narrowing.
“You… you said no.”
“Eat your food.”
He slices into more of his giant steak, the sharp and precise movements of his knife denoting metaphorical violence. It feels symbolic in a way, like he’s doing more than cutting into his meat. He’s cutting into my heart, slashing through it every time I have a beat of hope.
Just when I’m wondering if things won’t be so bad.
We eat the rest of our meal in uncomfortable silence.
“You’ll be sleeping in my room tonight,bella,” he says once Umberto’s clearing the table.
I can’t even argue. It feels like once again I’ve been strapped into a rollercoaster that teases so many possible highs only to bring me crashing down into lows. Ms. Poitier’s advice doesn’t work when I’m married to a brute—he’s impossible to charm because he’s so stuck on his narrow view of how things must be.
How can I pretend I’m content with no freedom?
I’ve been caged my whole life, yet nothing compares to this.
Being a toy for a man obsessed with me because of some dream he had.
An hour and a half later, I’m in his bed. He’s pounding away, his heavy body rippling with muscle as he grunts and gropes me. I close my eyes and draw blood from my tongue, counting the minutes ’til he’s done.
’Til he rolls over and slips off to sleep on his side of the bed.
And I tear up in a silent cry on mine.
THIRTEEN
Caelian
“Wake up,bella. I have something to show you.”
Nevaeh is sleeping beauty in the flesh. She lays curled among the satin sheets with a relaxed expression on her angelic face. Long lashes kiss her cheeks. Her mouth is plush and full even when at rest. Her dark skin luminescent in the morning light. Everything else about her features, from the soft curve of her cheeks to her round nose, are so delicate and sweet-looking, it makes my heart clench.