Damien
"Huh?" I asked, my tone flat.
"I had an accident," Cleopatra repeated, her voice disturbingly calm. She had called me just as I was stepping out of Mike's car, ready to head into the De Lucas' estate.
"So? What does that have to do with me?" I replied nonchalantly, my fingers brushing off imaginary dust from my jacket. "Why would the queen of the mafia bother me about something so trivial?" My voice was cold, bordering on cruel. What she did with her life was none of my concern. After all, wasn't this what a marriage of convenience meant?
"Dear husband, that has hurt me very deeply," she said, her voice laced with mockery. "How are you planning to make it up to me? You cannot say such heartless things about your wife. So what if I'm the queen of the mafia? Am I not human? Am I made of steel? I can get hurt too." Her voice adopted a whining quality I'd never associated with her. Even Mike, who had been sipping water, nearly choked at the sound of her absurd theatrics. His eyes widened in disbelief as he glanced at me for confirmation that this was indeed Cleopatra on the phone.
I remained silent, caught between annoyance and curiosity.
"Call your men," I finally said, snapping out of my momentary stupor. "You have a mansion full of them. Let them come to your aid."
"No, I want you to come, dear husband~~~" she sang, her voice sweet and chirpy, but it grated on my nerves like nails on a chalkboard.
"No," I replied curtly. "I have things to do."
I disconnected the call without waiting for her response and tossed the phone onto the seat beside me. The audacity of this woman… A whole year of silence, and now she suddenly demanded my attention? Ridiculous.
I focused on the task at hand, changing out of my ripped jeans and black T-shirt into the pristine white shirt and tailored black pants the De Lucas' stylist had prepared for me. I was halfway through unbuttoning my shirt when Mike coughed twice, clearly seeking my attention. I ignored him, continuing to change.
He shuffled in his seat, coughed again, and finally gurgled on water.
"What?" I barked, annoyed.
"That was really mean, even for you, cousin," he said, leaning forward as if that would somehow soften his words. "I know you're a cold man—I am too—but how can you speak to a lady like that?"
I raised an eyebrow. "What did you want me to do? Run to her side?"
"Yes!" he exclaimed, his enthusiasm almost comical. I rewarded his idiocy with a hard kick to his seat.
"Ow! What? Don't be mad. I'm just being honest. She just had an accident. You can't be that indifferent. On normal days, sure. But today? That was heartless."
"If she's in trouble, she has a thousand men under her command. She can ask them for help." I buttoned the last button on my shirt and grabbed the blazer.
"Brother! Don't you see it? Of course, she has a thousand men, but this time, she chose you!" Mike said, his voice rising with excitement. "She's giving you a chance to shine. Why are you not taking it?"
"Don't be ridiculous. I don't need a chance to prove myself to her," I snapped, fixing the blazer over my shoulders. "This marriage is a facade. We're strangers in all but name."
Mike turned to face me fully, his expression serious for once. "Maybe she's trying to change that. Why else would she call you? Think about it. Maybe she wants to fix your relationship. I mean, how else do you explain the scene in the dressing room today? And don't lie to me—I know you enjoyed it."
My jaw tightened. I stepped out of the car, slamming the door shut with more force than necessary.
"Brother! Think about it!" Mike shouted after me, undeterred. "I bet she's finally decided to let you handle your marital responsibilities. Why else would she reach out to you so suddenly? Weren't you the one always complaining about how she ignored you for the past year? Now is your chance!"
I froze mid-step, my fists clenching at my sides. Complaining? I had merely stated facts. Facts. I didn't care about her or her life. Not her injuries, not her theatrics, and certainly not her sudden interest in me.
Cleopatra was nothing but an obligation, and obligations were meant to be dealt with—not indulged.