Pursued By My Mafia Husband

Chapter 6

Gemma

“b***h!” I mutter through clenched teeth.

Ferne’s eyes go wide, and she looks in shock from me to Reyna. Of course, no one here has any clue who Reyna is.

“Um. Are you talking about that woman with the boss?” she asks. “Do you know her?”

Her boyfriend looks equally nervous. “If she’s with him, you’d better stop looking at her like you want to stab her before someone sees. Do not get on his bad side.”

I ball my hands into fists. I know I should listen to their warnings. I’ve never been able to get the better of Reyna in anything, not since we were kids.

I met her when we were both eight, when my shitty father moved her and her mother—his mistress—into our house with me and my mom.

I didn’t know it back then, but my father was the king of bad deals and racking up debts.

That was why he had to move them into our house. He couldn’t afford a second home anymore.

But Mom didn’t leave him. She loved him despite every terrible thing he put her through.

I’m the legitimate daughter, but Reyna was my father’s perfect princess.

She was the daughter he loved.

But even his love couldn’t make her legitimate—not in our world, where bloodlines, family, and tradition are everything.

Because of that, Reyna has always made my life a living hell.

As the apple of my father’s eye, she got taken to events. Introduced to people in other families. Educated at all the best schools.

I didn’t. It was a miracle I ever met Cassian at all.

Reyna was brutal with me that day. I was hiding, because I knew my father didn’t want any of the important men coming to the meeting at our mansion to see me.

The hood of my hoodie was up, hiding my wild red hair. But the shoulder of the sweatshirt was bloody and torn. I pressed my hand over the bleeding wound and whimpered softly.

That was when the most handsome boy I’d ever seen poked his head around a statue and saw me.

He crouched in front of me and looked at my wound. I looked back at him, terrified. I didn’t know what to do. Reyna had never attacked me with a knife before that day.

“Who did this to you?” he demanded.

I swallowed and shook my head. Telling people Reyna hurt me never solved anything.

The boy—Cassian—pressed his lips together and said, “Families should do better to take care of the people who work for them. Come on.”

He thought I was a servant, but I was too shy to correct him. I let him lead me into the kitchen, where the cook, who liked me, saw me and promised to take care of me.

She didn’t tell him who I was, either. She’d patched me up from Reyna before and knew it wouldn’t do any good.

Cassian helped the cook clean the wound and bandage me. I’d never felt anything as gentle as his hands.

“Take care of yourself,” he said. Then he smiled, and I fell in love.

Ferne touches my arm, and I startle back to the present. I watch as Cassian leans down and speaks to Reyna, and those night sky eyes turn soft. A gentle smile plays on his lips as he looks at her. It’s almost like the one he gave me all those years ago.

He’s never smiled at me since.

Suddenly, Cassian looks around and addresses everyone in the warehouse. He’s still twenty feet away from me, but his voice carries. Confidence and dominance ooze from him. As soon as he speaks, he has everyone’s rapt attention.

“We don’t know yet what happened here today, but everyone on this plane will be personally compensated by me. The crew can take the rest of the week off.”

Applause starts. He still hasn’t looked in my direction.

But suddenly, Reyna does. Her violet eyes meet mine. Staring right at me, she takes Cassian’s hand in hers and gives me a vicious, victorious smirk.

“Darling, we should double their pay for the week, as well. They’ve more than earned it,” Reyna says with big doe eyes and a sweet smile.

Cassian nods. “Double your pay for the week. The Blackwell family appreciates your service.”

People cheer when they applaud this time, but I only seethe. Reyna lets go of Cassian’s hand to hug his arm and tip her head against his shoulder.

“Do you think they’re a couple?” Ferne asks, whispering and wide-eyed.

“Nah. You know I believe that rumor about him having a super-secret wife,” her boyfriend replies.

“Please!” Ferne says. “If he had a wife, why would he hide her?”

Her boyfriend shrugs. “Maybe she’s ugly.”

“Or stupid,” Ferne snickers. “Something must be wrong with her. Imagine having a husband like Cassian Blackwell, then having him be so ashamed he hides you away like that. I’d kill myself.”

They’re right. And that’s when it hits me.

My marriage to Cassian is a figment. A dream. He’s a million miles above me in every way. I see that now.

I’m ready to wake up.

“I have something to confess,” I say, loud enough that Cassian turns his head and fixes his midnight gaze on me.

A small furrow appears between his brows, and I wonder if he’s worried I’m about to reveal our secret.

But I just say, “I’m not married. My husband is dead. He died last year. And I don’t even care. My marriage was bullshit anyway.”

I wait for him to react. But he doesn’t. He just looks at me blandly.

He doesn’t love me. He never has. He never will.

I turn and walk away.

Even if it means I end up with nothing, homeless and alone. Even if I’ll no longer have Cassian’s power to protect me, it’s time for me and the mafia boss to get a divorce.

As I walk away, a stupid part of me longs for Cassian to stride after me and grab me and demand to see that I’m okay after the crash.

Then at least I would know he feels something for me.

Instead, when I look back, the crowd has gone back to admiring him and Reyna again, and Cassian only has eyes for her.

But Reyna is still looking at me. Her dark violet eyes are narrowed, and she gives me a triumphant smirk.

Then her face turns as innocent as a baby deer’s again, and she looks up and twines her perfectly manicured fingers in Cassian’s, like she needs him to steady her, even though she’s already leaning on him.

He squeezes her hand. I fight back tears and whisper, “Bastard.”

Fuming, I turn away from them and head home.

When I get there, I sit at my vanity and look down at my wedding ring.

It’s a massive star sapphire set into a gold band. Tiny diamonds sparkle in around the sapphire and are embedded into the gold, reminding me of a sky filled with stars.

When he gave it to me, I thought it was a sign of Cassian giving me a piece of the sky, and therefore a piece of him.

Now I know it means nothing.

Summoning all my resolve, I take the ring off and throw it into my jewelry box, then slam the lid closed.

I rub my finger, which feels too light, and tell myself this is for the best.

Then I start to plan the divorce.