Callous

Chapter 25/Staring could be troublesome

Aarib

It was taking every fiber of my being to press my lips together and not—not even by mistake—let the grin slip onto my lips. Because, oh boy, my wife wouldn't like that.

She kept fidgeting in the passenger seat of my SUV immediately after I put the car in drive, chewing onto her bottom lip since the last five minutes, and rocking her right leg up and down since a few seconds.

"Enough," I muttered. "Haya, for the hundredth time, stop getting your knickers in a twist." I took a turn to my west, pressing a little harder on the gas pedal. "It's just a get together."

"Of all the mafia bosses!" she screamed.

Woah.

I glanced at her for a second, catching her eye for a brief moment before I averted my gaze back to the road ahead. Her eyes were wild, fierce. Frightening.

"Haya, you don't have to be scared," I tried to calm her down before she started clawing at me like a wild animal.

It would be a wonderful sight, though. What can I say, I'm a man after all.

"Yeah. Right. Because I have no reason to worry, right?"

I understood the double meaning behind those words. She thought I didn't understand her behavior, the frantic nerves, the rattled nervousness that made her skin break out in goosebumps. She really didn't know that I knew her like I knew the back of my hand. Understood her like she was an open book having all the answers to her actions. I just payed a lot of attention to her in these past months, and these past two days. Now, almost three, as night was finally here.

"You have every reason." First being the bruises to your face. I didn't say that out loud. She wouldn't have liked another reminder of the bruises. "But we can't live our lives getting scared of these filthy men—"

"I'M NOT SCARED!"

"Fine, fine, not scared," I added quickly before she decided to jump out of the car. At that thought, I locked the doors. Just in case. "Just. . ." I searched for a better word. "Nervous. Yes, nervous. You're nervous, baby, and there's no need to be that. There will be more than just mafia bosses. Their wives, children, families. They will be there, too. Everything will be fine."

Or at least I hoped that.

"And you'll meet my friends, too," I carried on, smiling at the thought of introducing such an awesome girl to the crowd as my wife.

Father would be pissed.

And that would just make this night a whole lot of more fun.

"Your friends? You have those?" her snarky remark echoed through the silence that hung in the car.

"Why wouldn't I?" I asked back, sparing her a quick glance. She was staring down at her lap, picking at invisible flecks of dust perhaps. "You think I'm not capable of having friends?"

From my peripheral, I saw her head whip to me and felt the intensity of her gaze lingering on my face.

"I mean—I—that's not what I meant," she whispered, guilt lacing her voice. I didn't mind if she said that. But she surely did. "I'm sorry. I'm just a little on the edge at the moment." Then suddenly, as if remembering something, she questioned in a squeaky voice, "Would Areesha be there, too?"

She wanted her to be there, I could tell.

I shrugged my shoulders. "Not sure. I doubt it. She's always been hidden away, I doubt she'd want to come to any of these parties now. Especially when there was a high risk of my father being there."