Chapter 25: Fear (Gianna's POV) I pulled on a black full-sleeve fitted top with matching black sweatpants and then once I was freshened up, I walked back out to him pulling a black v-neck over his head. I just stood there and watched him silently. It scared me. It scared me how fucking scared I was when he asked me to use the dagger on him. With or without the case. I felt so much fucking fear at that moment, it felt like it would engulf me. I don't know why I felt that fear. Because I had to hurt him, because he could hurt me back, because I could hurt myself if I didn't use the dagger properly, but I was very scared. And I shouldn't be because I may have to use a dagger on him someday. That's so not how I would want to kill him but I might have to if I don't have another way or get another chance. "What are you thinking about?" I snapped out of my thoughts and straightened up, dropping my arms to my sides which were previously folded across my chest. "Nothing," I mumbled, scratching my head. He walked over to me while I stood in the doorway of the bathroom. "You're okay now," he nodded reassuringly. "You're at home, we have security outside, and nobody can come in here. It's a gated and fenced estate." "No, I know," I nodded. "But…" He held either side of my face, tilting my chin upward so I was looking right at him. "And I'm here too. So, don't worry." I stared at him, not knowing how to feel. When I agreed to marry him, I didn't expect him to be so… perfect. He's actually taking care of me, paying attention to me, and prioritizing me. And that… it just doesn't make me want to fucking kill him. He chuckled softly, removing his hands and putting his arms around me. "You're okay, Gianna," he sang, resting one hand on the back of my head, ruffling my hair slightly. "Why are you being so nice to me?" I mumbled, my arms going around his waist. "Because I'm your husband." That still sounds foreign. "And I don't have a reason to be mean or hurtful. You haven't done me wrong. You won't, right?" My cheek was resting against his chest, his chin resting on my head, and I stared at our bed. "I won't." But I will, won't I? I have to. "Shall we go for dinner? I bet it's almost ready," he said, pulling away only enough to look down at me. I nodded, mustering up a small smile. He pecked my lips and then headed to the door. I started following him out, both of us entering the dining room together. I looked at the empty spot which his dad usually takes. "Your dad isn't home yet?" I asked, watching him while he pulled my chair out for me. I chuckled softly before sitting down. "Thank you," I sang. "He has dinner with clients today." "Oh, I see." We still had to wait a little while for dinner to be brought so I put my arms on the table and rested my head on it, turning to look at him. He stared back at me, lifting one hand to brush my hair out of my eyes. "You look tired," he mumbled. "I am tired and now slightly offended," I chuckled. "Tired but pretty," he laughed softly. I sat upright. "Pretty?" He nodded. "Very pretty." I grinned. I couldn't help it. I smiled widely like a little girl. Dinner was brought in and served so we started eating while talking about our days. Like a normal couple really does. And that's exactly what's happening, it's exactly what we're becoming. A normal couple. And a normal wife does not plan to kill her husband. The more days that pass, the more I start to doubt my plan. I really don't know if I can bring myself to do it. I know that I should at least try once and that's my plan. I realize that I'm slowly backing down. I don't really want to do it now. I won't. That's it, I won't, I cannot bring myself to murder this man. But I will make him miserable, as best as I can. "You didn't go for the meeting with your dad? I thought you join him in all meetings, don't you? That's what I heard." I turned to look at him. "I do, normally." He shrugged, bringing his glass to his lips and taking a sip of water. "Then why didn't you join him today?" I propped up my elbow and held my chin in the palm of my hand. "I had more important things to attend to." "Oh, yeah?" "Yeah," he nodded, turning to look at me. "Like what?" I laughed. "Like my wife." I watched him, smiling to myself. "You're a lot more husband-ish than I thought you'd be, Allister." "And that means…?" "That means I didn't think you'd be so… what's the word?" "Romantic?" I chuckled, "Not quite. Just… genuine." He stared at me, biting back a smile. "Genuine," I nodded. "You are a very genuine husband." "I'm trying to be. I think I should be." I watched him carefully, trying to read him a little bit better. "I think I want to be for you." I blinked in surprise, my elbow slipping off the table. He laughed, catching my arm. He laughed. Genuinely, naturally laughed. That is the first time I've heard him laugh and I think it's also the first time I've fallen in love with someone's laugh. "What?" he asked, still chuckling softly. "I haven't heard you laugh before." He realized that he laughed and it didn't look like he liked it. Like he wasn't meant to laugh, like it just came out and it'll never come back out again. "I liked it," I said softly. He looked up at me. "Did you?" I nodded. "I like your laugh, Allister." He stared at me, his fingers still around my wrist and I don't know if he did it intentionally or subconsciously, but his thumb, which was on the inside of my wrist, started moving back and forth. He stopped his thumb right on top of my pulse. He could definitely feel my pulse which was pounding under his thumb. "Why are you nervous?" "I'm not," I lied. "Your heart is pounding." I blinked, looking away. "It's not." I used my free hand and started poking at the leftover food on my plate. "It is," he said and I could hear it in his voice, he was teasing me. "So?" I kept my eyes on my food. "It's not my fault." "It's not, I agree. It's cute though." He let go of my wrist and locked his fingers with mine, resting our held hands on my thigh. I watched him while he finished up the last of his food and then pushed his plate away, turning to me again. "Are you done staring or just done eating?" I laughed, pushing my plate away. "You're such a dick." "You know what I think, little Phoenix?" "What, Allister?" "I think you like me." He stood up, taking me with him. He jerked our held hands closer and I crashed into him, tilting my chin up so I was looking into his eyes. "I think I still hate you." He shook his head, smirking. "No, you don't." "I do." He started leaning in. "You don't." "I do," I mumbled. His lips barely brushed against mine. "You don't." And then before I could say I did, he leaned in and kissed me. I went up on my toes but even when I wanted to go back down because I was losing balance, he didn't let me. He kept an arm around my waist, holding me there. I pecked his lips once before pulling away. "Can we go upstairs?" I chuckled. "Oh, why? What do you want to do?" He chuckled. "Hey!" I laughed, pushing him away. "I want to sleep," I said, emphasizing my words. "You are one dirty fucking liar, Mrs. Allister." "Shut up," I laughed, pushing him towards the door. He walked ahead of me, allowing me to keep my hands on his shoulders. We made it back to our room and both of us went into the bathroom, brushing our teeth together. I laughed, watching him in the mirror. "You look cute," I said, talking around my toothbrush. We both finished and then he went into the room while I brushed my hair. I gathered it in a low ponytail and reached for my hair tie but found my wrist bare. I frowned in confusion, bringing my wrist forward. I swear I had a hair tie on here before dinner. I looked up in the mirror when he walked back in, holding my hair tie between his fingers. "You're a thief," I scoffed. "Am I?" He gathered my hair and put it in a low ponytail for me. I thought that was it but no. He grabbed the ponytail and tugged it back. He didn't pull hard enough to make it hurt, but hard enough to tilt my head up until I was facing the ceiling. "Yes?" I laughed. He leaned around me and pecked my cheek, his grasp slowly loosening on my ponytail. I looked ahead of me and in the mirror and watched while he kept his lips still on my cheek, moving down to my jaw, then my neck. I didn't like watching it in the mirror. It made me feel more guilty about what I was really doing. So I turned around to face him, and turned my back on my true intentions, forgetting them for the moment, and kissed him. Just for this goddamn moment, in this minute, I wanted to forget what I was really aiming for and just spend time with him. Because he felt genuine, but I didn't. Even to myself. . . . . . Chapter 25