Page 40 of Vicious Impulses (The Capo and Ballerina)
Ms. Poitier only has to fold her arms, purse her lips, and give me that look of reprimand for me to understand where this is going. “Are youtryingto traumatize the girl? What in the world would possess you to bring her down here? And to your trophy room!”
“It was to show her that the man who hurt her is dead. I murdered him for her.”
Ms. Poitier blinks at me. “What did you expect that girl to do with that information? Thank you for beheading him?”
Yes…
“I expected some gratitude,” I answer in defense. “She should understand by now that I am trying to make her happy.”
“C, will you take your head out of your violent, bloodthirsty ass for one damn second?” Ms. Poitier snaps, smacking a hand to her forehead. “Most women do not find severed heads romantic. Most women don’t want to be shown their husband’s trophy room full of them.”
“But it was for her—”
“It doesn’t matter! The girl is basically a puppy, she’s so damn innocent. And you’re over here showing her gouged out eye sockets? Do you realize how sheltered she’s been her whole life? She’s been locked into a contract that might as well have been a prison sentence it was so strict. She was the only Black ballerina in her company, which means she’s probably felt alone and alienated her entire life. Her father was murdered by Nero and her mother lives under his thumb. In fact, have you bothered to learn about her at all?Beyondher beauty and graceful dancing and your dreams of her?”
No…
“Those things are unimportant.”
“Not if you expect Nevaeh to ever change how she feels. She’s a real person. Not a fantasy from your dream. You have to find a way to bond with her.”
“It’s never mattered with other women before.”
“That’s because you were having sex with women bought and owned by your family. They couldn’t tell you even if they didn’t enjoy themselves, because you could make them disappear. You’ve bought and paid for Nevaeh just the same—that’s true—but you’ve decided tomarryher. That changes everything. If you want the girl to ever have even a little affection for and attraction to you, ‘because I say so’ ain’t gonna cut it every damn time. She’s your wife. Treat her like your wife.”
“How would I do that?”
“Talk to her. About things. Get to know her. Let her express herself. Stop with the fucking bad moods. Spend some time together—notshowing her severed heads. Doing something she would like too.Romance her.”
I scowl out of bad habit. “Romance is stupid.”
“You say you care about her, don’t you?”
“Yes!” I rumble defensively. “What kind of question is that? I killed Enrico for her!”
“C, violence is not a love language.”
“A love…what?”
“Did you know the girl was a virgin? On your wedding night. You hurt her.”
Suspicion floods me. I don’t bother hiding it in the glare I give Ms. Poitier. Nevaeh, nor Ignazio, had ever mentioned anything about her innocence being intact. She had been a part of the Vorone’s flesh trade for years. How had she possibly managed to escape being used in that way? Had Ignazio paraded her around at their dinner events for show only?
“She has never said anything about that.”
“Because she feels she can’t talk to you,” Ms. Poitier says. “Any time she speaks her mind, you growl at her and a fight happens. The girl feels damn near traumatized by you, C. If you want to change that, you’re going to have to be passionate. Be romantic.”
“There’s that word again,” I grumble.
“Pleasure her.”
“Ms. P, enough.” I cast her my sternest glare yet.
“It’s not just about you and what gets that dick of yours wet.”
“I don’t know where to begin,” I confess in a moody tone. And it’s the truth—everything Ms. Poitier speaks about is complicated and beyond my scope.
“Now would be the time for me to tell you the other reason I came down here. A team of doctors from Zinc Co reached out this morning about the treatment for you that’s been discussed. It’s being made available if you would like to give it a try, but the only caveat is that it’s in Zurich. You’d have to make the trip to their specialized treatment facility.”