The Holy Trinity Series - M.E. Clayton Page 0,170

could only be willed down to Benetti blood. In the event something happened to me, everything would go into a trust for my children, to be overseen by Sal or Leo. If no children were involved, they’d get split evenly between Sal and Leo.

When I finished getting dressed, I went in search of Remy, but she was exactly where I had left her. She didn’t look up or even acknowledge my presence as she spoke on the phone. I started to put the pans away that I had taken out for breakfast and then popped a couple of bagel slices in the toaster. Breakfast had been ruined, but I still needed to eat something before heading downstairs to speak with Phoenix.

Remy didn’t lower her voice or try to pretend I couldn’t hear what she was saying. Her side of the conversation sounded like an everyday talk of gossip and catching up between her and her mother. And the way she sounded, you wouldn’t know that she had been in tears not fifteen minutes ago.

I was done eating by the time Remy hung up the phone and, as I cleaned up, she asked, “Do you have a list of what I’m allowed to do?”

I wanted to tear the fucking room apart.

Instead, I turned to face her. “Excuse me?

Her face was as lifeless as a corpse’s. “I can’t work. I can’t go back home,” she replied. “I’m guessing you have a list you hand out to your women, letting them know what they can and can’t do.” Remy shrugged a shoulder. “I’m just asking for mine.”

She was deliberately provoking me.

I knew this.

I knew this, and it was still working.

“You don’t need to work, and this is your home now,” I answered, my teeth aching with how badly I wanted to yell at her.

“Right,” she drawled out. “Or else you kill my parents.” She rolled her lips in between her lips. Weight settled heavily on my chest. Remy was up to something and I knew it was probably going to send me over the edge.

“Remy…”

She jerked her head towards the hallway that led to the bedrooms. “I’ll just go hang out in my prison, with my legs spread, for whenever you’re ready.”

She had reduced herself to a kept whore.

I was going to put my ring on her finger and give her my last name in a matter of days, but she saw herself as my whore. A plaything to entertain me when I had the need. I had one of those already. I didn’t need to put a ring on Remy’s motherfucking finger for an easy, accessible fuck.

And I told her so.

“I had ready pussy before you came along,” I informed her, and I didn’t miss the flinch my words caused. “If you think I need to put a ring on your finger to get my dick wet, you’re wrong.” Her face turned red, but I wasn’t sure if it was from anger or embarrassment. “You’re going to be my wife, Remy. But if you want to view that position as nothing but a glorified whore, then be my guest. It doesn’t change anything, and it won’t save you or your parents.”

“And if I refuse,” she asked, still trying to act brave.

I smirked. “I wouldn’t be the first Benetti husband to have a mistress or two.” The words tasted like ash on my tongue, and there was no way I’d be unfaithful to her, but she couldn’t know that. If she knew the power she wielded and used it, I’d be nothing but a poor fool living on his knees before her, and there was no way I could let that happened. Remy had to believe she had no choice but to obey me.

Otherwise, I’d lose her.

“Understood,” she replied quietly, and it felt like my chest was cracking in half.

I walked over to her, and she didn’t make a move to leave. She remained where she stood, looking right though me.

My hands reached out and cupped her face. “It wouldn’t be like this if you would just trust me, Remy,” I told her.

Remy laughed, and the sound was cold and hollow. “Trust you?” She scoffed. “Yeah, I’ll get right on that.”

I dropped my hands and my fingers began to unbutton my shirt that she wore. The shirt hung open and I could see the swells of her breasts and that triangle of curls I’ve buried my face in. I reached down and slid two fingers inside her swollen pussy. She winced and her

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