His Unwanted Wife is the Mafia Princess novel Chapter 10

#Chapter 10 – Secrets in a Martlage

Stella

Adrian’s weight on my wrists makes my skin tingle. His brows kult together and the usual crease forms in his skin.

His face is unreadable under the dim lighting, but as soon as he tilts his head to side and licks his lips, I can see the heat behind his eyes. The hunger he holds inside the depths of his mind by the way he looks down at me.

My heart races from his close proximity. My eyes drop to his lips, my body wanting to push up and close the distance between us. Just as I’m about to move, my mind remembers the way he was protecting Clara mere hoursago.

He instantly ran to her side and pushed her behind him, protecting her from Luca and Silas. He kept her hidden from my brothers‘ hardened stares. He was so quick to step between Clara and the mafia men…when has he ever been like that with me?

I fall back into the mattress. My face loses any and all emotion it holds. Indifference takes over my body, the heat from my desire dissipating in an instant. It forms into something cold, something that chills my heart to the core.

“I don’t know what you are talking about,” I cooly respond.

A mix of emotions flash across Adrian’s face. Confusion, anger, sadness, joy, neutrality. His face finally lands on determination, the man leaning down to get closer to me.

“Why were you at the Belova Hotel tonight, Stella?” His voice is sharp, almost deadly. I innocently blink at him, buying some time before I am expected to respond.

What can I even say to make him believe me? All I can do is feign innocence, to play coy in the hopes that he’ll lose interest like he always does.

It makes my mind even more dizzy to think about why he suddenly has an interest in me.

“That has nothing to do with you, Adrian,” I push back against his question. A spark of amusement flashes across his eyes before they darken.

“Really?” A pained chuckle leaves his mouth. “As your husband, I think I am entitled to know where my wife is and why she is out so late at night.”

“Husband?!” I can’t help but laugh at his choice of words. “What makes you think you can call yourself my husband? You haven’t taken the role seriously since the day we got married. You’re only using it to pressure me into giving you an answer.”

I wiggle my wrists out from under his touch. My hands connect with his chest and I shove him off of me, using all of my drunken strength.

Adrian falls to the side of the bed. I quickly slip off of the mattress, hugging my arms to my body as I quickly walk to the bedroom door. It swings open and I rush out, my bare feet thumping along the wooden hallway floor.

I can hear him call my name from the bedroom but I ignore it, unable to look at him.

I reach my bedroom and slip inside, closing the door behind me. My head spins, my body aching from the sudden loss of weight on top of me and my suppressed desire to kiss him.

I know I can’t. He is a forbidden fruit that I can no longer take a bite out of.

I flick on the lights and spot my laptop on the desk. It’s still open from the last time I used it.

I sit down at my desk and turn it on. The screen is a warm welcome, a hug that I didn’t know I needed in my time of need.

With a few clicks, I open up the hacker network, landing on offer that is sure to distract me from my husband in the other room.

1 sit up in bed and watch her as she flees from the bedroom, She leaves me behind in the silence of the bedroom with nothing but my thoughts filling in the blank spaces.

I get off off the bed and approach the door, traveling down the same path she once took to get to her bedroom. My footsteps are loud against the floor, vibrating the nearby areas. I push her bedroom door open and my gaze immediately falls onto the back her head.

I half–expect her to turn around and to look at me like she usually does but she doesn’t move. Her body remains still while her fingers furiously push the keys of her laptop’s keyboard. The clicks are faint yet they carry across the room with ease.

I stand by the corner of her bed, keeping some distance between us, and narrow my eyes at the back of her head. It drifts to her fingers before they move to the screen. Right at that moment, she tilts her head to the side, blocking my view.

“I’m working, Adrian,” she groans. I can hear the eye roll in her voice.