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“You can’t play both sides, Riley. If you threaten me, it will only end badly for you. I’m done playing by the rules.I am my father’s son. I will do whatever it takes to protect my wife.”
Riley began to tremble before Drake as he loomed over her, emphasizing every last word. Love made him lose his mind. It was getting harder to control his impulses despite everything he’d been through.
The threat Riley posed was the one that would hurt his wife the most. He couldn’t have that—something needed to be done. The question was if he could live with himself after.
“Come near my wife again, and I will bury you.”
***
Chapter Thirty-One
Alessandra awoke with a start. She called out for Drake, but received no response. He wasn’t in the kitchen when she helped herself to a glass of water. The bed hadn’t been slept in, and she started to worry.
Quickly slipping into a wrap knit sweater dress, she pulled on a pair of knee-high boots and headed into the brisk Chicago morning. Luckily, it was early enough that the doorman could quickly hail her a cab.
She knew of only three places to look for Drake. His parent’s home was in Lake Forest, but that didn’t seem likely. Jerry’s club, where he had a private room that included a bed. Or his office.
His office seemed the most logical place to start, and she gave the address to the driver. The short commute stretched forever in early rush hour traffic. Eventually, the driver pulled up in front of the high-rise. She swiped her card without looking at the total fare.
The elevator moved at a snail’s pace dinging as it passed every floor. Twenty-five floors later, the doors opened to the firm where Drake was a partner.
The door hit the wall with a bang, and a sleeping Drake jerked awake with a start. His hair was disheveled, his tie was askew, and a mostly-empty bottle of whiskey was on the desk within arm’s length.
“Che cazzo!”
Multiple emotions slammed into Alessandra at once. A fear she couldn’t bring herself to acknowledge as she waited for him to walk through the door that Luca or her father may have hurt him. Anger at him for not even bothering to call or text that he wouldn’t be home. Abandoned and hurt that he ignored her all night.
But the emotion that flooded her at his blurry-eyed expression was relief that he was safe. She wanted to slap, kiss, hug, and scream at him all at once.
Alessandra stepped closer to throw her arms around him but stopped short when she saw smeared red lipstick on his collar. Riley’s mocking smile popped into her mind as proof of their affair knocked the wind out of her.
Knowing she couldn’t break down in front of her husband or confront the end of her marriage in that state, she turned on her heel and walked out the door.
* * *
With her aching heart and no other place to go, Alessandra made her way to the jail where Marcello was set for release that morning. He was the anchor she needed. This was a chance for them to start over and have a more honest and open relationship.
Marcello stepped into the sunlight as a free man a few hours later. He was dressed in all black, and though he appeared thinner than the last time she’d seen him, the clothes were appropriately sized. His dark hair was shaggy, down around his ears instead of slicked back, and he appeared as though he hadn’t shaved since his last court date.
Alessandra rushed to meet him, and he greeted her with wide-open arms. He lifted her up and spun her around before stepping back with a huge grin.
“It’s great to see you, little sister. How are you?”
Alessandra’s smile slipped.
“Who do I have to kill to make you feel better?”
At that, she burst into tears. “That’s not funny, Marce! Don’t let them hear you say things like that.”
Marcello pulled his sister back in for a comforting hug. “I’m sorry. Are you all right?”
Alessandra shook her head and stepped back from him. “Did you know, Marcello? Be honest with me, please.”
“Did I know what?”
“What Papà and Luca had planned for me? Did you have any hand in their plans? I’ve felt so used and manipulated. I need one man in my life to finally be honest with me.”
Marcello’s face hardened. “Can you handle the honesty?”
