I collapse onto my knees right on the floor of his office, my face wet with tears, my entire body shaking. How can this be happening? Gino Ferraro wants Nero dead because of me.
Nero. Rafaele’s closest confidant and friend. His consigliere.
I squeeze my eyes shut and let out a low moan. There’s an insistent ache inside my chest that expands until I feel nothing but pain. Footsteps sound outside the room, drawing closer and closer. The door creaks open, and there’s a gasp.
“Cleo!”
I don’t have the strength to even raise my face toward Vale. She runs over and crouches down beside me, placing her hand on my back.
A moment later, Gemma’s there too. She pulls out a tissue from somewhere and starts dabbing it against my face. “What happened?”
“He… He wants a divorce.” My voice breaks.
Vale gasps. “What?” She and Gemma exchange a look. “Oh, Cleo. Let’s get you off the floor, okay? And then you can tell us everything.”
They help me up and lead me toward the leather couch on the other side of the room. I feel like I’m about to shatter.
“It’s over between us,” I whisper.
Gemma’s eyes are wide and disbelieving. “There’s no way. He’s angry, but he’ll calm down and realize that’s ridiculous.”
I shake my head. They weren’t there when he said those words. There wasn’t a hint of doubt in his tone. He meant them. “He wants me to go to Italy with you and wipe his hands clean of me.”
Vale heaves a pained sigh. “Does he know that you love him?”
I never told them that I love him, but there’s no point in denying it. It’s fucking obvious. I sniffle, feeling like the biggest idiot in the world. “He knows. It doesn’t matter. He doesn’t want me after the mess I caused.”
Gemma scrunches up the tissue in her hand. “What mess? You’re fine. Everyone is fine.”
“No.” My lips waver. They don’t know the kicker yet. “Nero killed one of Ferraro’s men by accident. Now Gino Ferraro wants retribution.” My chest feels tight, like it’s about to cave in on itself. “He wants Rafaele to kill Nero.”
Gemma’s mouth falls open. For a moment, no one speaks.
“That’s insane,” Gemma says eventually in a hushed voice. “Nero is his consigliere, and Gino must know it wasn’t intentional.”
“It doesn’t matter. Rafaele has been trying to make peace with the Ferraros for a long time, and this jeopardized the whole thing. I jeopardized the whole thing.” I squeeze my fists so hard my nails pierce my skin. “I’m a fucking idiot. It didn’t even occur to me that the text could be fake. I just dropped everything and ran.”
Vale wraps her arm over my shoulder and pulls me closer. “But how can he blame you for acting like that when you thought Gemma was in danger? You were scared and worried. Most people would have reacted the same way you did.”
“And how is it your fault Nero shot a Ferraro?” Gemma shakes her head. “None of this makes sense. I don’t understand why he’d push you away.”
Because he doesn’t think I’m worth all this. Did I ever really believe he’d think I’m good enough? No one else ever has. All those things he said to me about being his ideal wife were probably just to get me into his bed.
I give my head a shake. No, even in my current state, I know that isn’t true. This was more than sex. Things were going well between us.
Maybe Rafaele thought they were going too well.
When he told me he didn’t love anyone, he uttered “love” like it was a dirty word.
I wrap my arms around myself. “He said he can’t be the don he needs to be with me around. Even if he does feel something for me, I don’t think he wants to. He won’t let himself love anyone.”
Gemma shakes her head. “He’s making a huge mistake. Why don’t you try to talk to him again?”
His words echo inside my brain. I’ve said everything I need to say.
“He’s gone. He’s trying to figure out what to do about Nero. He told me he wants me out of the house, and that I should go to Italy with you.”
Vale’s expression crumples. “Oh, Cleo. I’m sorry.”
I wipe my nose with the back of my hand and huff out a breath. Should I try to talk to him one more time? No, he made his position clear. But what if he just needs a bit of time to cool down?
I huff bitterly at the thought. Rafe needing time to cool down. Who would have thought we’d end up here?
“I want to rest for a bit. I’m exhausted.” I get up from the sofa. “Will you stay here until I talk to him again?”
“Of course,” Gemma says. “We’ll be in the living room. I’ll go ask Luca to bring you a snack.”
Food is the last thing on my mind, but I nod anyway. “Thanks.”
Upstairs, I make it to our bed and fall onto it face first. My soul hurts. Everything hurts.
When I woke up after my father jabbed me with a sedative, I was scared and disoriented. I didn’t know what was going on, and it was awful. But somehow even that felt less horrible than this. If Papà’s men had killed me, at least I would have died with a clear conscience. But now? How can I live with Nero’s death on my hands?
There has to be something Rafaele can do to stop it from happening. He’s clever and capable. He has to find a way to keep Nero alive.
There’s a knock on the door.
“Come in.”
Luca comes in with a tray of food. When he sees my puffy face, his expression falls. “I’m sorry, signora.”
“It’s okay, Luca. Just put that over there.” I gesture at the coffee table by the ottoman.
Just before he leaves again, he pauses by the door. “It’ll be okay. This too shall pass.”
I give him a weak smile. I’m not even sure he knows what’s at stake, but I appreciate him trying to make me feel better. “Thanks, Luca.”
He leaves, and I pick a bit at the food. I haven’t eaten since lunch, but I’m not hungry. How can I be when my stomach is in knots?
An hour passes. I stare at my wedding band. I should take it off. Leave it on the nightstand for Rafaele to find when he gets home. I wrap my fingers around it.
Take it off.
Do it.
I can’t. I sigh and tip my head back. Fuck.
My phone is a few feet away from me on the bed. I pick it up, pull up my texts with Rafaele, and write a message.
When will you be home? Can we talk? Please?
I press send. The house is quiet, but there’s blood whooshing inside my ears as I wait for my husband to respond.
His message comes a minute later.
There’s nothing to talk about. I don’t want to see you there when I’m back.
My vision blurs with tears as I type back.
Please tell me you won’t do it.
Three dots appear on the screen.
I don’t have a choice.
I squeeze the phone in my hand until pain blooms inside my palm, and then I hurl it at the floor. “Damn it!”
It’s over. There’s no way back from this.
I fly into the closet, jerk a suitcase off the bottom shelf, and fling it open. Things go inside—clothes, jewelry, whatever—and then I slam it closed and zip it up.
Vale must hear the commotion, because she comes into the bedroom at the same time I drag my suitcase out of the closet. Her gaze falls onto my bag. “Are you all right?”
I shake my head, tears dripping down my face and onto my shirt. I can’t remember the last time I cried like this. “I need to get out of here. Please, just get me out of here.”
She rushes over. “Come on.”
Vale’s driver takes Gemma, Vale, and me to the hotel in Manhattan where they’ve been staying. My temple pressed against the glass, I close my eyes and try to calm down, but as soon as I replay Rafaele’s words, my throat tightens, and I start crying again.
I can’t believe it’s over.
When we walk into Vale’s suite, Damiano and Ras are there waiting for us. Giorgio is sitting in the corner, his hands steepled as he watches everyone from afar.
“Where’s Mari?” Valentina asks.
“In our suite,” Giorgio says, his gaze flashing with pity as he takes me in. “She tried to wait up, Cleo, but I told her to get some sleep. We have an early flight tomorrow.”
Vale shoots me an apologetic look. “I’m sure we can postpone it if you don’t want to leave just yet.”
I shake my head. “What’s the point? There’s nothing left for me here. What hope is there for Rafaele and I when I’m the reason he’s about to lose his best friend?”
My voice cracks on the last word, and Vale pulls me against her chest. “Shhh. It’ll be okay, Cleo.”
“No. It won’t.” I press my face into her shoulder, staining her clothes with my tears. I’ve never felt more helpless in my whole life. Not even when I was walking down the aisle toward Rafaele, when I was sure marrying him was the worst thing that could possibly happen to me.
Wasn’t it?
If we hadn’t gotten married, none of this would have happened. If only he could have seen into the future when he agreed to take me instead of Gemma… He never would have agreed.
I disentangle myself from Vale, suddenly overwhelmed with her touch, overwhelmed with everything. Panic claws up my throat, and that’s when my gaze lands on Damiano. My sister’s husband wears a somber expression. Damiano is a don too. He’s powerful, smart, resourceful. The only reason he helped Rafaele today is because I’m Vale’s sister. Beyond that, he’s got little skin in the game. He can keep a clear head. Maybe he can think of a way out of this.
I cross the room and stop before him. “Rafe’s going to kill Nero because of me. Damiano, can’t you do something? Please.”
My sister’s husband looks at me with compassion I wasn’t sure he possessed. “Cleo…it wouldn’t be right for us to interfere. We’re guests here.”
“Please.” My voice rings with desperation. “Rafaele is your business partner. Him losing his consigliere can’t be good for business. I’m begging you.”
Damiano turns to Vale, who’s giving him a pleading look that mirrors my own. He sighs. “All right. I’ll give him a call. But I can’t promise anything.”
A flicker of hope appears inside my chest, even though I know it’s far-fetched. Damiano, Giorgio, and Ras walk out of the suite into an adjacent room and close the door.
“Let’s sit down,” Vale says, leading me to a chair. “I’ll make some tea. They have peppermint here. Your favorite.”
Vale walks over to the small kitchenette, and Gemma sits down in the chair beside me, taking my hands into hers. “We’ll get through this. No matter what, okay?”
“I don’t know how I’ll live with myself if Nero dies.” I thought Nero was an arrogant ass when I first met him, but he’s grown on me over the last few months. All he was doing was trying to protect me from my father’s men. How can he die for that?
“It’s not right for Rafaele to do this,” Gemma says angrily. “Blaming the situation with Nero on you isn’t fair.”
“Nothing about this life is fair,” I spit out.
A barbed wire of anger wraps around my heartbreak. This is why I never wanted to marry a mobster. This is why I tried so hard to escape the life I was born into. There are no winners in this world. Everyone loses eventually.
Vales comes over with the tea, and I take the mug from her.
“Careful, it’s hot.”
It is, but I welcome the burn. It’s the only thing that keeps me from spiraling deeper into my dark thoughts. We drink our tea and wait for the men to come out. There’s nothing else left for me to do. Their muffled voices filter through the door, but I can’t make out what they’re saying.
After what feels like forever, they finally emerge. My breathing slows until it stops entirely. I can see the answer on Damiano’s face before he even says a word.
“I’m sorry,” he says roughly. “It’s out of our hands.”
