When she loves, p.31
When She Loves, page 31
I sit up straighter. Her words inject a much-needed dose of hope into my veins. “What do you—”
She shakes her head. “I’m not helping you win her over. That’s on you. Damiano told me he gave you three days. Use them wisely.” She stalks away.
“I’m planning on it,” I mutter to the empty room.
That’s why I’m here this early. I don’t want to take the chance I’ll miss her when she comes down. If all I have are three days, I’m going to be around her as much as I can. We need to talk and I have to find some way to make her listen.
I finish my breakfast and down a few cups of coffee while I wait for Cleo to wake up. Just before ten, she shuffles into the dining room in an oversized T-shirt dress, her hair tousled, and her mouth open on a yawn. The sight hits me right in the chest. This is how she used to look in the mornings when she woke up to say goodbye to me before I left for work. My gaze drags over her body, all the way down to her exposed legs.
Where did she get that tan? What has she been doing in Italy? The thought of her lying in a bikini on a beach, her perfect body on display for anyone to see, sends a surge of possessiveness through me.
When she sees me, she halts. Her expression goes from neutral to dismayed before settling on reluctant. “You’re still here.”
I press my napkin to my lips. “I am.”
I’m half expecting her to turn around and walk out of the room, but she surprises me by taking a seat across the table from me.
“Who’s running things while you’re gone?” she asks, her voice clipped.
“Alec.”
“Oh, I remember him from my birthday party.” She reaches for the bowl of fruit salad. “He’s one of your capos.”
“He’s been promoted to my underboss.” I didn’t have an official underboss until now because Nero always played the part of my second-in-command.
Cleo’s gaze darts to me. “I’m surprised you trust him enough to run things while you’re here.”
I do, and I don’t. Alec is loyal and smart, but he needs more experience before he can even come close to the standard set by Nero. A few weeks ago, leaving him in charge of my family would be unthinkable, but I didn’t even hesitate to do exactly that two days ago. The only thing that mattered was getting here. Getting to Cleo.
“I didn’t have a choice.”
She scoops some fruit onto her plate. “You always have a choice. You can go home.”
“You are my home.”
She halts, her spoon midair. Pain flashes across her expression, like my words physically hurt.
“If you keep saying things like that, I’ll have no choice but to ask Damiano to kick you out,” she whispers, putting the spoon down, her gaze on her plate.
“I can’t. Not until you and I finish our conversation.”
Her lips purse into a thin line. “Rafaele, honestly. What are you hoping to accomplish? There’s no path forward for us.”
“I disagree.”
“Do you think I can just forget that you tossed me away at the first sign of trouble?” she says harshly, trying to mask her hurt with anger, but she doesn’t quite succeed.
I stand up and walk over to sit in the chair beside her. She stiffens when I place my hand on her forearm, but she doesn’t pull away.
“A lot went wrong that day. I couldn’t handle the thought of you being hurt, and I acted in ways I regret.”
She stares at my hand. “That’s not all it was. You reacted very differently when I got hurt when we got attacked at Il Caminetto.”
“Yes, but that was before—”
Forest-green eyes flit to me, a question written in them. “Before what?”
My pulse skitters and I swallow. It feels like every word coming out of my mouth is critically important. I’ve sat in many negotiations where that’s been the case, but this is the first time I’ve been this fucking nervous.
“At Il Caminetto, I was in control. I knew I could protect you. But when I got the call from your father, I had no idea where you were or who you were with. I didn’t know how to find you. I couldn’t trust your father to keep his word, and yet I couldn’t ignore his demands. I couldn’t be in two places at the same time. It was torture to imagine you being hurt while there was nothing I could do. It’s why I called Ferraro. I was desperate.”
A tiny bit of sympathy seeps into her expression. “You were?”
“Yes. And I didn’t know how to handle it. I never learned how to process my emotions. I only learned how to shove them away and pretend they didn’t exist. That’s what I had to do to survive my father. It’s what I had to do to make sure my mother survived him too.”
She frowns, a line appearing between her brows.
“The sheer intensity of my feelings for you overwhelmed me,” I continue. “It was like being hit with a tidal wave and being dragged away by the strongest current you could possibly imagine. I retreated somewhere safe.” I drag my palm down her forearm and take her hand. “I’m not saying this to justify how I treated you, Cleo. There is no excuse. But I think if I want there to be a path forward for us, I have to be more open with you.”
Surprise flickers inside her gaze. I curl my fingers between hers. She lets me, but she doesn’t return the gesture.
“I talked to my sisters about you. About everything.”
“What did you tell them?”
“The truth about why I am the way I am.” I clear my throat. “It was far overdue. You said my mother told you about what happened when I was a kid?”
Cleo nods. “She did.”
“I don’t know what specific details she shared.”
Her face softens. “She said your father beat her and forced you to witness it. If you cried, he’d keep going. He made you learn how to lock your feelings away.”
“Did she tell you about the rape?”
She pales. “What? No.”
It doesn’t surprise me that Mamma didn’t tell her that part. A prickle of resistance appears in the back of my head at sharing our secret with one more person. Even though our relationship is irreparably broken, my mother has always held out hope for me. And I know she would understand my reasons for sharing this information with Cleo.
“My father raped her in front of me. Forced me to watch.”
Cleo’s mouth falls open. She squeezes my hand hard. “Oh my God. Our wedding night…”
“I…” There’s an ache in my throat. “I decided a long time ago that I’d never be like him. I would never hurt the people I’m supposed to protect. Ever.”
Tears well up in Cleo’s eyes. I want nothing more than to pull her against me and kiss those tears off her cheeks, but I restrain myself. I haven’t earned that yet.
“But I did. I hurt you with my actions and my words.”
She curls her lips over her teeth and muffles a sob.
I squeeze her hand tighter. “I know that I’m broken. I know. But I need to tell you what I should have told you a long time ago. The feelings I have for you are bigger than anything I’ve ever experienced. They used to terrify me and make me feel out of control, but not anymore. I’m ready to embrace them. Until I met you, I never realized how much of me died in that dark bedroom. But then you waltzed into my life and showed me what it’s like to truly be alive. And now I can never go back to how I was before.”
She heaves a breath, her eyelashes fluttering.
My heart is beating so hard it threatens to break through my ribcage. “Cleo, when I look at you, I see the entire universe. It took losing you for me to understand that you are everything to me. There might have been a ‘before’ you, but there is no ‘after’. I can’t function without you. I can’t sleep, I can’t think, I can barely fucking breathe. Without you, I exist in a horrible dark place that’s devoid of everything that makes life worth living. Please come back to me. I love you.”
A tear escapes and carves a path down her flawless cheek. I catch it with my thumb and slowly brush it away.
Her breathing turns ragged, and my gaze drops to her parted lips. I need to kiss her the way I need air, but before I even move an inch, she pulls out of my grasp.
She stands up, pushing her chair back with a loud squeak, and turns to leave. “I have to go.”
No.
I rise out of my seat. “Please don’t run away from me.”
She halts and slowly looks at me over her shoulder. “Rafaele, I need some time to think. This is a lot. Give me space. Please.”
What am I supposed to say to that? “Cleo—”
Before I can come up with anything, she shakes her head and slips out the door.
I rake my fingers through my hair.
She said she needs space…but she didn’t ask me to leave again. That’s progress, isn’t it? I might be getting through to her. But if I push too hard, she might pull back again.
I sink back down in my chair and drag my hands over my face. She wants space? Then I have to give it to her. I’ll give her whatever she wants. Because I’m not the one calling the shots anymore.
She’s in control.
CHAPTER 45
CLEO
Rafaele told me he loved me. His admission pulses inside my chest and seeps warmth into my veins as I rush upstairs after our conversation. I lock myself in my bedroom and make an honest attempt to untangle my thoughts and feelings.
Now that I know the full truth about what happened with Rafaele’s father, I can understand why Rafaele is the way he is. The thought of what he had to witness as a young child sends nausea churning through my gut. What he and his mother went through is horrific. I sometimes forget that our world isn’t only heartlessness toward women, but toward men too. No one is born a killer. One way or another, they are forged by their environment and by the people around them.
Rafe was visibly uncomfortable when he shared the full story with me. I could tell it was difficult for him, but he didn’t let that stop him. He told me something deeply private, deeply vulnerable about himself. How many times did I wish he’d open up to me? He finally did it.
And it didn’t feel like some tactic just to get me back. It felt genuine.
He really wants to fix this. To fix us.
Do I?
Longing snakes through me. I wanted to comfort him just now. To hug him, to kiss him, to say that everything will be okay. I managed to hold myself back though, because for once, I thought about the consequences of my actions.
If I jump back into this too quickly, driven by my raw emotions, I might regret it later on, and I don’t want to have any more regrets. I have too many already.
I curl up on the bed and scroll through the photos I have of us on my phone. There’s not many, but the few that are there make my chest clench.
The photo he asked the waitress to take of us at the Il Caminetto dinner. I look pissed as hell in that one. There’s another photo I snuck of him right before we headed to dinner at the Ferraros’. He’s glancing at me from under his brows as he’s fixing a cuff link, a hint of amusement in his expression. There are a few from my birthday party. A posed photo I got Vale to take of us on the terrace. A selfie from the afterparty. He’s smiling, looking at me instead of the camera.
Cleo, when I look at you, I see the entire universe. It took losing you for me to understand that you are everything to me.
That flicker of hope comes alive inside my chest again. Only now, instead of stomping it out, I allow the memory of our conversation to feed the tiny flame.
I spend the rest of the day in my room, avoiding everyone, and I have my dinner brought to me. Vale comes knocking as I’m getting ready for bed.
“Do you want to skip the concert tomorrow given everything?” she asks as she peeks inside.
Shit. I completely forgot we had plans to go out. A band we both like is playing in Naples, and she got us tickets. We’ve been looking forward to this, and I don’t want to back out just because Rafe showed up. What am I going to do for the next few days? Hide in my room and think about him nonstop? Maybe it’ll be good to get out of the house and have a distraction for a few hours.
“I still want to go.”
Vale’s smile is careful. “If you’re sure?”
“I’m sure.”
She takes one step inside and closes the door behind her. “Do you want to talk about it?”
“I just need some time to think about everything. Rafaele is really trying…” I sigh. “He told me he loved me.”
Vale’s expression softens. “About time.”
“I know, fucking finally, huh? But is it too late?”
“I don’t know. Do you still love him?”
Do I? There’s a thick layer of hurt on top of whatever other feelings I have for him, but I can’t deny that he’s managed to get past it. Somewhat. But I’m not sure that his change of heart is enough to fix our relationship. He might say he loves me now, but that doesn’t erase the fact that his consigliere is dead because of what happened.
Nero. Dead.
It still doesn’t feel real.
A prickling sensation appears behind my eyes. “I don’t know if it matters. Even if I still love him, I am the reason his best friend is dead.”
Vale comes over to sit down on the edge of the bed and wraps an arm around me. “Cleo, that is the world we live in. You know that.”
I lean my head against her shoulder. “It’s why I’ve always wanted to get away from all of this. The nonstop heartbreak and pain. And I’m almost there. I can do whatever I want now that I’m in Italy. Do I really want to give all that up for another chance with Rafaele?”
That’s the real choice I have to make. Say goodbye to him and start a new life in Europe or go back to the life I know in New York. The life I used to hate before I married him.
Vale sighs. “We don’t get to choose what life we’re born into, but we all have the ability to find our own path if we’re willing to pay the price. I had to be brave enough to escape Lazaro and leave New York. I didn’t leave our world, not completely, but I found a corner of it that works for me. Damiano is a don, but he’s also the love of my life.”
“But don’t you think it would be so much better if you and him were just normal people?”
”Do I sometimes wish I didn’t have to worry about whether he comes home alive after a trip away? Of course. But I also recognize that he wouldn’t be the man he is if he was removed from all of this.” She huffs and smiles. “And I really like who he is.”
Rafaele, no longer a don? It’s impossible to imagine. The man was born to lead. And the truth is…I admire that about him. He’s got men who rely on him and a family that thrives under his leadership. He would never leave that behind, and I could never ask him to do so.
So if I choose him, I have to embrace all of it. No more rebellion, no more resistance, no more denying the reality of my situation. I would have to be all in.
I press a kiss to Vale’s cheek. “I think I need to get some sleep. My head feels like it’s about to explode.”
She gives me another hug and gets up. “Take the time you need. I won’t let him rush you.”
The next day, my breakfast magically appears in my room before I even ask for it. Damn, Vale is well on her way to getting the sister of the year award. I eat my eggs and toast and drink my coffee while sitting by the window and watching birds make a nest in the tree in the backyard.
Around midday, I hear Rafaele’s voice outside my door.
“Can I talk to her?”
“She will come to you when she wants to,” Vale says firmly.
“Will you tell her I’d like to see her?”
“I will, Rafaele. Can you stop hovering by her door like a ghost and go downstairs? My staff don’t know what to do with you.”
I lift my hand to my lips. He’s been hovering outside my room? I tiptoe toward the door and press my ear against it. There’s the sound of retreating footsteps.
Vale did the right thing shooing him away, because I still don’t know what I want to do.
Do I miss him? Yes.
I miss his touch, and his kisses, and the way he looked at me like I was the most precious thing in the world. But will we ever get that back given everything that has happened?
I’m not sure.
When six p.m. rolls around, I start getting ready for the concert. My suitcase is still lying open on the floor. I never really unpacked when I arrived here. I dig through the clothes I brought and pull out a forest-green dress I haven’t worn yet. It’s low cut with a bow right below my chest, billowy long sleeves, and a flowy skirt that reaches my mid-thigh. I let my hair out of its braid and swipe on a bit of makeup.
When I’m finished, I walk up to the mirror and do a twirl. I’m a bit overdressed for a rock concert, but that’s just because I feel like it. It’s definitely not because I want to look good in case I bump into Rafaele downstairs.
He’s not there anyway. I walk into the empty living room and ignore the small twinge of disappointment.
Vale appears a short while later. “Ready?”
“Yes. Your husband isn’t here to send you off?”
“He and Rafaele are talking business in his office.”
Oh. I swallow and paste on a smile. “Let’s go then.”
We get into the car waiting outside for us and arrive at the venue accompanied by a driver and two guards. When we arrive, the opening act is already playing. We head up to the VIP area and grab a couple beers.
“This band’s great,” Vale says, her head bopping along to the music.
The VIP area quickly fills up with more and more people. Our guards are standing off to the side, close enough that they’d be able to reach us in no time if needed. I turn back toward the stage and focus on the music.
Are Damiano and Rafaele still talking to each other back at the house? I wonder what they’re discussing. With Nero gone, Rafaele will have to make a lot of changes to how he runs things.
Frustration zaps through me. Ugh. I came here so that I wouldn’t think about him, but here I am, thinking about him all the same.
