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Chapter 63 – Glass and Fury

Autor: Quinn Montclair
last update Última atualização: 2026-01-03 16:00:47

Eve

The Grimaldi Tower is a monument to ego.

Forty stories of black glass and steel piercing the skyline, looking down on the city like a god judging insects. It’s impenetrable.

And I’m about to set fire to the top floor.

The elevator ride is too smooth. My reflection in the polished brass doors looks calm, but beneath the surface, I’m vibrating with a rage that has calcified into determination.

He shoved me into a car, then walked away from me, leaving me trembling and wet and aching. He didn’t come to bed. I can only assume that he slept in a guest room, and then he left before I woke up.

He thinks he can starve me out. He thinks that if he denies us both long enough, the monster inside him will go back to sleep and we can return to our polite, sterile arrangement.

I’m not about to let that happen.

The reception area of the executive floor is silent, staffed by two secretaries who look like models, and Enzo, who is currently sitting at a desk near the double mahogany doors.

Enzo sta
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  • Unholy Matrimony   Chapter 87 – The Silent Treatment

    EveI’m sitting in my new office on the top floor of the Tower. It’s a glass-walled shark tank that rivals Dominik’s. Offering a panoramic view of the city I am slowly, methodically helping my husband devour. My desk is a slab of black marble, devoid of personal items. No photos. No trinkets. Just the tools of the trade. A secure laptop, three cell phones, and a stack of dossiers that would topple the city council if leaked.It’s a relief not to have to look at Dominik's face all day anymore. I get a lot more done."Marcus," I say, cutting off the lobbyist’s yammering in my ear. "I don't care that Councilman Yates is having a crisis of conscience. Tell him that if he votes nay on the zoning amendment, his wife receives the dossier on his weekend trips to Atlantic City. Specifically, the photos from the Sapphire Lounge.""Mrs. Grimaldi, that’s..." Marcus whispers on the other end. "He’s a family man.""Not according to the photos on my desk," I reply, my voice smooth and cold. "Which

  • Unholy Matrimony   Chapter 86 – The Cold Shoulder

    DominikThe Meridian Room is a monument to old money and older sins. Dark oak paneling, velvet drapes the color of dried blood, and chandeliers that cast a golden, forgiving light on the men who run the underworld.There used to be six seats at the High Table. Now, there are five.The chair where Giovanni Armando used to sit has been removed, the gap filled seamlessly as if he never existed. That is how we work. You fall, the water closes over your head, and the sharks keep swimming.I sit at the head of the table. To my right sits Don Salvi, a man whose hands shake from Parkinson’s but whose mind is still sharp as a razor. To my left sits my wife.Eve is a vision tonight. When is she not?She’s wearing a plunging dress of midnight blue that clings to her curves like a shadow. Her hair is swept up, exposing the long, elegant line of her neck. The neck I marked with my teeth two nights ago. She’s managed to cover the bruise with make-up. I’d rather have had it on display.She’s smiling

  • Unholy Matrimony   Chapter 85 – Punishment

    EveI’m lying in bed, stiff as a corpse, wearing a black slip that feels less like lingerie and more like a shroud. I haven't slept. I haven't read the book lying open on the nightstand. I’ve spent the last four hours staring at the ceiling, replaying the fight in the gym, listening for the sound of his footsteps.He didn't come to dinner.Luciana brought a tray up to the room, her eyes averted, sensing the radioactive fallout in the house. I picked at a salad. I drank two glasses of wine.Now, I wait. My heart kicks against my ribs with a traitorous, frantic rhythm when I hear the door opening.Dominik must have showered in a different room. He’s wearing nothing but black sleep pants that hang low on his hips, exposing the V-cut of his pelvic muscles. His hair is damp, combed back from his face. His expression is terrifyingly blank.He doesn't look at me. He walks to the dresser, removing his watch. The heavy gold clinks against the wood."You’re still awake," he states. "It’s har

  • Unholy Matrimony   Chapter 84 – Words That Cut

    EveThe library is too quiet. The bedroom is too big. The entire East Wing of the mansion feels like a mausoleum built to house the corpse of my dignity.I’m pacing the hallway, my heels clicking a frantic, staccato rhythm on the marble.Dominik didn't just insult me at breakfast. He eviscerated me. He took the fragile, tentative respect we’ve been building for the last week and fed it into a woodchipper.And the worst part? The part that makes bile rise in my throat?He’s right about my father.Deep down, in the darkest, most repressed corner of my mind, I know my father sold me. I know he grabbed the opportunity with both hands, when he should have grabbed that gun and shot himself rather than allow me to offer myself as sacrifice in his place. But I need to believe the lie. I need to believe I’m a martyr saving a good man from a bad situation. Because if what I actually did was sign away my freedom, in exchange for the life of a father who made bad choices and would rather see me

  • Unholy Matrimony   Chapter 83 – The Reminder

    DominikThe breakfast table is a landscape of cold porcelain and even colder silence.Eve is sitting at the opposite end of the long mahogany table. She’s wearing a high-necked, sleeveless black blouse that covers the diamond collar I forced on her yesterday, but I know it’s there. I can see the outline under the halterneck.She hasn't looked at me since she sat down. She’s pushing a piece of melon around her plate with a silver fork, her movements mechanical.She’s back to hating me this morning.It’s for the best.Hate is a clean fuel. It burns hot and fast, and it keeps the engine running without clogging the gears with sentiment. Yesterday in the jewelry store, I reminded her of the hierarchy. I reminded her that she’s my possession.One with unexpected uses and depth, but still an object, bought and paid for. I hurt her pride, which was unavoidable. I needed to do it. The last few days, feeling like we’re equal partners, the shared laughter in the elevator, the way I held her in

  • Unholy Matrimony   Chapter 82 – The Anniversary of Nothing

    EveThe air in the back of the Maybach is distinct. It smells of hand-stitched leather, Dominik’s sandalwood cologne, and the crushing weight of things left unsaid.It’s been four days since I took control of the political sector. Four days since we fucked in the elevator like animals desperate to outrun a cage. Since then, Dominik has been distant.Not cold exactly. He speaks to me. He touches me. He strategizes with me. But the frequency is different. The warmth that flickered in the dark bedroom that night, the ibuprofen, the hot water bottle, holding me because I was in pain, has vanished like it never happened.I’m not sure whether I’m relieved or disappointed by it.He treats me like a high-performance weapon. He keeps me oiled, loaded, and pointed at his enemies, but he sets me aside as soon as the shooting stops."Where are we going?" I ask, watching the city blur past the tinted windows."Fifth Avenue.""I don't need more clothes, Dominik. My closet is already overflowing in

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