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“Just taking care of my wife,” he murmurs, and I actually blush as I melt with love for this man. “Let’s go to bed, my darling, beautiful wife. Tomorrow is going to be a rough day at the office.”
He helps me into my robe, does a patchy buttoning up of his own clothes, and leads me out of Matteo’s office into the darkapartment. It’s really late, or rather, it’s early morning. As we scale the stairs, the night’s events rush through my head.
I pause on the landing. “Where’s Vincenzo?”
Stephano squeezes my hand. “We’re holding him.”
“He isn’t—” I break off.
“He’ll be alive as long as he’s useful.”
“What’s the plan?”
“I don’t know. We were discussing our next steps when we got interrupted.”
I drop my gaze. Oh, God.
“We’re working on it, angel. I don’t want you to worry about anything.”
“Okay. But Carla?” She was fond of her half-brother, up until that Friday night. “How do I tell her? Or even Don Trapani when the time comes?”
Now I don’t know if I can live with myself, as if I had a direct hand in his son’s murder.
“Don’t tell anybody anything. She doesn’t even need to know Vincenzo is here, trying to kidnap you back to Italy. Just remember what he did to you, angel. He’s a dead man for touching you tonight, never mind selling you out to Franco Fiore.”
This is what I wanted. I fled to Boston secretly hoping the Scaleras will have it in them to protect us. Going back to Italy was always my goal, but after tonight and with Vincenzo finding his own grave here, I don’t know if I can or want to look Don Trapani in the eye again.
Stephano opens the guest room door for me, and I walk inside. The bed is rumpled where I turned for ages trying to fall asleep. I remove the robe and get in under the duvet, watching as my husband disappears into the bathroom. When he comes out later, I’m still awake, staring into the dark.
“I’ll organize some Plan B for you tomorrow,” he says. “Unless you are on contraception already?”
I’m not on anything, but I hesitate.
“It isn’t necessary,” I say as he slips between the sheets. “I’ve got us covered.”
Stephano turns to me and gathers me in his arms as he places a soft kiss in my hair. Emotion swells in me. At the end of all this, there waits a divorce. If nothing else, I might be lucky enough to be pregnant when we go our separate ways. Not that Stephano can ever know, and he’ll be furious if he finds out I’ve deceived him, but I need something of him, of us. Something to hold close and to remind me of this beautiful man who has vowed to never marry and love a woman.
42
GIGI
It’s been five days since the night at the gallery, and I’ve been living my fake marriage to the full. Nights with Stephano are something else, but he leaves early in the mornings to deal with Vincenzo’s arrival and its consequences.
It’s frustrating to be out of the loop with their plans, and I want to tear my hair out not knowing if Vincenzo is finally dead or if he’s still beinguseful.
Life ticks by. I miss painting. I miss working. Tony has brought my things over from Stephano’s apartment, but it isn’t the same. There are too many humans around, and I want to retreat back into the world of Stephano and me alone. I’m wrung out with anxiety that abates only when my husband is home.
Worst of all is how I’m hiding what happened at the gallery from Carla, and somehow, things between us have become more strained. She still doesn’t know about Vincenzo and thatIl Consigliois holding him. The men spun a story about what happened at the gallery, which I endorsed. Carla senses something is off, but I can’t tell her the truth. I hate having this secret about her blood brother, knowing they’ll kill him at some point.
It’s lunchtime. I’ll have to nag my sister to come eat with me, for what it’s worth. She’s retreated so deep into her shell, doomscrolling social media as if this is the only life she’ll ever have again, that even Tasha’s started rolling her eyes. There’re only so many movies, TV shows, and other crap you can watch while you wait for things to come to a head.
“Sweetheart,” I say as I knock on her door. “Lunch time.”
“I’m not hungry.”
“Please,cara, it’s just us. Tasha left for the university, and none of the men are here.” This should make it easier, for sure. When we’re in Matteo’s apartment, there aren’t even bodyguards with us, which gives us a breather.
“I told you I’m not hungry.”
