CHAPTER TWENTY THREE

CHAPTER TWENTY THREE: RECLAIM WHAT'S MINE ROSE AMARA POV My eyes immediately fell when I saw Ethan seated in the living room, his fingers flitting across a laptop on the coffee table. Even though the object is still buried deep inside of me, my stomach drops, and it tingles. I despise these feelings of familiarity and intimacy with him that I can't help having. So I started to become defensive. How dare you enter my room?" He says without raising his head, "Our room." "Remember, Mrs. Amber, we're married. Or did you consume too much alcohol and require another punishment from me?" I reached for the closest item, which happened to be a pillow, and fling it at him. While keeping his attention on the laptop, he puts it over his head, yet his lips twitch in a sneer, as if he knows just which buttons to press. He's not the only one who has surprises, though. However, first, "I'm taking the toy out." "No." "It is already nighttime. Are you sure you don't want me to wear it while I sleep?" "Whatever I have planned doesn't matter to you. All you have to do is uphold your end of the bargain. Keep quiet like a lovely little princess while I take a conference call. "Approached whom?" I asked him cautiously. "They want to speak with Hades and me about business." "Was your visit successful? "Excellent, in fact." He slowly lifts his head to look into my eyes. "He likes that I went personally, and he already adores Hades, so it was as expected." "Can you now understand how following along would have destroyed the experience?" My lips are pursed, but it's not just because of the situation. I fixed on Ethan's face, shining eyes, seductive lips, sharp features, and stray hair drooping carelessly on his temple. And I'm now staring at him. Stop staring at him. I mumbled, "I'll stay and listen," to myself. "Why?" "I want to be informed because this is La Fratellanza's business." The funny thing about his statement is that it almost seems he's expecting a particular response: "And you don't trust me to do it alone." "Good. At least you are aware of it. His gaze returns to the laptop, but he doesn't disagree with or accept my demand. After briefly pausing, he continues, "If the Italians hear your voice, the deal is off. We won't be able to earn their trust. Do you comprehend?" His voice bothers me because of the tone. It sounds robotic and akin to him brushing me off or relocating away from me. I detest the sharp pain in my chest. "Fine." Ethan is still determining what will transpire during this specific conference call. I slinked into my closet and donned a brief, deep-red nightgown that Belle had purchased for me as a wedding present. My breasts are covered in see-through lace, so if someone gets close enough, they can see my nipples. The delicate silk barely covers the crack in my ass as it gradually falls against my body. I consider my options as I stand in front of the mirror. I would never wear something that looked as bad as this. In addition, seduction is my one and only weakness. I've never done it before, which puts me in a precarious situation. However, I also understand that if I don't try, I won't have an opportunity to reclaim the authority that was taken from me. I tilt my head sideways and rub my fingertips over the mauve hickey at the base of my throat. When it stings, needles of anguish puncture me. My thighs clench while also making me grimace. I reassured myself, "You can do this," before turning around and sauntering out of the closet with assurance I didn't feel. Maria doesn't have to work hard to capture Allen's attention because she always has his full attention, but I still remember how she walks when she wants. I stand in front of the door and slightly swing my hips. Someone with an Italian accent says, "Our men will be stationed close to the club downtown." "The number of soldiers is negotiable, but we will only provide limited assistance." Ethan is still typing furiously on his laptop, evidently multitasking while taking the conversation, "I can gather intel for this week." "What are our primary worries?" I devise the best technique to speak to him without making a sound or clearing my throat. Ethan raised his head as if he knew I had been standing there the entire time, just as I was about to drop something from my console. Our eyes collide, and for a brief moment, I believe he is staring straight through me. My goal can fail before it even begins if he completely ignores me. Then, though, he stops using the keyboard, and his lips start to break apart. It's a little bit, but that's all it takes for me to move toward him slowly, hopefully attractively. He doesn't look away from me even when the Italians discuss some security issues in one of their clubs. As if anticipating me to reach under my gown, pull out a revolver, and kill him in the heart, Ethan watches every motion I make. If I could do that, I would have done it when he abruptly departed seven years ago. I shake my head inwardly. The past is not the topic here. It has to do with the present and my legitimate authority. Ethan measures me from top to bottom when I stop before him, pausing to notice my visible breasts. Under his gaze, my nipples become harder against the lace, and it takes all of my willpower to keep my arms from crossing over my chest. Finally focusing on my face, he looks puzzled and asks softly, "What are you doing?" I kneel in front of him before my fears get the better of me. It's time to reclaim my power.