Bree Porter

“Say something.” He snapped.

I parted my lips. “You are The Godless. Principe of Chicago. My husband. I eat food you paid for and live in a house you own. My clothes are bought by you, the bed I sleep in was bought by you.” I stared at him. “I am completely at your mercy. Why wouldn’t you hurt me?”

“I’m not going to hurt you.” He said. “Abuse in the home means there is lack of control. And as you said so yourself, I am very much in charge of this household.” Alessandro eyed me doubtful expression. “You still don’t trust my word?”

My Elena, oh my Elena. Lyubimaya. My soul, my heart.”