4

Cassini

I lay back on the lounge chair in the shade while looking over the pool. We were on the top of a hill, so the city of Florence could be seen past the property a few miles into the distance. I read a book on my lap while I relaxed in my swimsuit, enjoying the summer heat while my cold drink perspired.

Every few pages, my mind would start to wander.

Wander to the man I met a few nights ago.

He didn’t have a name, and his business card was even more unusual. The only detail was the sketch of a black skull. It was fossilized bone with a snake protruding out of the eye socket. I googled anything related to skulls online but couldn’t find anything relevant.

I had no idea who this guy was.

But when I noticed him in the bar, I thought he was the most beautiful man I’d ever seen.

With fair skin that reminded me of snow and blue eyes like the Arctic Sea, he was a pretty man on a rugged frame. He was ripped and lean with muscle, all the striations in his forearms noticeable with the slight movements he made. His forearms and neck were corded, a man so tight that even his veins protruded through the skin.

His jawline was his sexiest feature, with a light shadow of hair that hardly covered the strong bones of his features. His t-shirt fit him snugly, fighting the planes of his pecs and the individual grooves of muscle that pressed against his shirt. On top of that, he was tall. When he stood up to join me, I could see he had to be easily over six feet tall.

It’d been ages since I’d had good sex, passionate sex with a handsome man after a night on the town. I even missed the mediocre sex I received from men I never called again. Sex with my husband was nothing but work, a duty I had to fulfill because of the promise I’d made.

A promise I’d regret for the rest of my life.

Seeing a man like that across the room only made me miss it more, made me want to sink my claws into his back and ask him to fuck me in the bathroom. When he touched my thigh, I wanted to go home with him right then and there.

And that kiss…

I’d touched myself to that kiss so many times.

It always made me come good and hard.

But I wanted the real thing. I wanted real passion, real lust. I wanted a man on top of me, a man whom I desired. When I’d agreed to the trade, I hadn’t realized exactly what I was giving up. I hadn’t realized that my selfless act would be the dumbest and most humiliating choice of my life.

Now I was stuck here—until death do us part.

I wanted to call that man the next time my husband was away, but it was so risky. If I ever got caught, I knew terrible things would happen. I would be fine, but my lover would be tortured and killed.

I never had been specifically asked to be faithful to him, especially since he wasn’t faithful to me, but I assumed it was implied.

Maria, the housemaid, came to my side. “Mrs. Salazar?”

I lifted my sunglasses to look at her. “Yes?”

“Mr. Salazar is asking for you.”

“Did he say what he wanted?”

“No, Mrs. Salazar.” Maria returned to the house.

I grabbed my cover-up and tied it around my body before I walked into the house. It was a big place, two stories and ten thousand square feet—and that wasn’t including the backyard, the pool, or the front yard. From an outside point of view, some people might think I was lucky to live such a luxurious life, but I’d take my tiny apartment over this any day.

I walked into the house and found him in the living room. His jacket was thrown across the couch, and he stood in his slacks and his collared shirt. He was fifteen years older than me, and his age showed in the corners of his eyes and his mouth. He wasn’t the ugliest man in the world, but I didn’t find him the least bit attractive. He had oily hair that seemed to be saturated with hair gel, and even his eyebrows seemed greasy without product. He had the hairiest chest I’d ever seen, and that was just one of his many turn-offs. “Hello, Lucian.” I wore heeled wedges as I crossed the hardwood floor toward him.

He met my gaze, clearly in a bad mood after the day he’d had. “You’re gaining weight.” He looked me up and down, seeing the way the bikini fit underneath my loose cover-up.

Considering how much that beautiful man wanted me the other night, I knew I didn’t have a weight problem.

“I told you to stay the same weight. That was one of my only rules.”

Another woman might be offended, but I certainly wasn’t. I didn’t care what Lucian’s opinion of me was. “You’ve gained weight.”

His eyes narrowed at the offense. “But I own you. And you own nothing.” He turned back to the table and searched through his papers. “Did you give me the paperwork from Carl?”

“Yes, but I have a copy if you lost it.”

“I didn’t lose it. If you have a copy, then you didn’t give it to me.”

“I gave you the original. Mine is a photocopy.” I came to his side and looked through his paperwork. On his left hand, he wore a gold ring with a black stone in the middle. That was the ring he put on the day of our wedding, and according to my observation, he hardly ever wore it. But he did screw whores and fanatics often. “Here.” I found the papers hidden between two folders.

He took it with a growl, like it was still my fault it had been misplaced in the first place. “Alright. Then that’s settled.”

I wanted to return to my lounger so I could get lost in my book and forget the horrible reality of my life. “If that’s all, I’d like to return to the pool.”

“Yes. But I want you in my bed tonight after dinner.”

Lucian and I had separate bedrooms. It’d been that way since the beginning, and I only joined him when he wanted sex. I treated his commands as a duty because I’d signed up for this and vowed not to fight. So when he asked for sex, I had to open my legs and obey. “Alright.” I walked out of the room and back to the pool.

I never allowed the beautiful surroundings to fool me. This was a prison, a prison with no escape until Lucian died. He was much older than I was, but he was still only forty years old, so he had a lot of life left to live. If he lived to be ninety, then I would have to spend a lifetime in suffering. I would be seventy-five by the time he was gone, and I would have no interest in men or sex by that time. I would only have the children I made with him to keep me company in my last years of life.

It was a depressing thought.

I tried to remind myself that it could be worse. Lucian said insulting things to me from time to time, but he rarely ever hit me. He focused on work and lived his life and didn’t spend much time terrorizing me. He told me when he wanted sex, and when he was satisfied, he left me alone until he was horny again. Whenever he had special occasions, he expected me to look my best and be the star of the evening. He seemed to care more about making me his trophy wife than actually having a relationship with me.

So it could definitely be worse.