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.”