Burned Dreams (Perfectly Imperfect #7)

Ravenna’s breath hitches, but her lips remain tightly pressed. It’s obvious she won’t give me an explanation. I lean forward until my lips brush the shell of her ear.

“Will you ask me not to tell your husband about that, too?” I ask.

When she tilts her head to the side, our cheeks touch. Her powdery scent teases my nostrils, urging me to fill my lungs. I grip the counter harder, suppressing the urge to crush my lips to hers. Closing my eyes, I count to ten.

This woman is too tempting. She’s a distraction I do not need, but here she is anyway, jeopardizing my self-control without even realizing it.

“Do I need to ask?” Ravenna whispers.

“No. You don’t need to ask.” I allow myself another fleeting second of her touch, then take a step back. “We should go.”

“What happened to your hand, Ravenna?”

I jump in my chair, almost knocking over the plate in front of me, and quickly hide my bandaged hand beneath the table. Rocco is standing on the other side, glaring at me.

“I asked you a question, bellissima.”

“I . . . cut myself when I helped Mamma with the dishes this morning,” I blurt out and regret it the moment the words leave my mouth. Rocco is obsessed with what other people think of him. And by extension, me.

“Do you know that we’re going to dinner at my father’s this weekend?” he snarls as he walks around the table. “Some of our business partners will be there! Do you want them to think I allow my wife to do menial work?”

“I’m sorry. It won’t happen again.”

He grabs my upper arm and pulls me up from the chair. I whimper and try moving away, but his grip only tightens.

“Please. You’re hurting me.”

“You’ve earned it.” He squeezes my arm harder, and I cry out. “I never punish you unless you deserve it. Do I?”

“No, Rocco.”

“I’m glad we agree on that.” He leans into my face. “Zanetti will take you to buy a dress to wear to dinner. Make sure you pick well so my business partners forget you’re a cleaning lady’s daughter.”

I nod. “I’ll go first thing in the morning.”

“Afternoon. Zanetti is coming with me tonight as backup, and we won’t be back before morning.”

“Backup?” I say, breathless. “Is it something dangerous?”

“Are you worried about me, bellissima?”

Worried abouthim? Is he really that delusional?

“You know I am.” A lie.

“It’s just a drug deal. Now, get out of my sight.”

As soon as he releases his hold, I turn and run out of the dining room. Rocco has always been easy to enrage, but ever since he’s taken on the responsibility for some of Arturo’s duties, he’s become worse. The garage fire has only ignited his militant tendencies.

Once inside my bedroom, I climb into bed and snuggle under the blanket. I wish I could kill him. Or have the money to pay someone to do it for me. Often, when I’m lying awake at night, I imagine sneaking into Rocco’s bedroom while he sleeps and raising the gun he keeps in his drawer. I’ve never fired a weapon, so the bullet would likely end up in the wall or the floor. Still, it makes me feel better, imagining the shots that would hit his chest. Other times, I imagine wrapping my hands around his neck and squeezing with all my might. Oh, how I would enjoy watching his bulging eyes stare at me as he struggles for breath. Yeah, I have very intense feelings for my dear husband.

A loud ping breaches the silence in the room, making me freeze. It takes me a few moments to realize what it is. Reaching out, I take the phone off the nightstand and stare at the notification on the screen.

New text message.

I rarely receive any. Rocco installed a device management software on my phone that only lets me communicate with people on my contacts list. And he is the only one with a passcode that allows him to add contacts or change permissions. For months, there’ve been exactly five numbers on my list. Rocco’s. The housekeeper’s. And the numbers for the three security chiefs—one for each shift. His most trusted people. But another number had been added three weeks ago.

I click on the notification and the new chat frame fills the screen. Well,fillsisn’t exactly accurate since it contains only one word.