"No, it doesn't. Ivory works—"
He tensed his jaw at the mention of Matteo's wife. If Lino's marriage to me had been unacceptable, I couldn't imagine how it burned him that the head of the family had diluted his blood with a woman who was French and Portuguese. "Ivory is acceptable because her work occurs within the home. I understand yours does not."
"I'm not going to quit just because I got married," I protested.
"We'll consider it," Lino cut me off, making me turn a not-so-subtle glare his way. I wouldn't comment in front of his father in an attempt to create a united front, but he was couch bound if he didn't retract that statement as soon as his father left. "But I see no reason it needs to be rushed until Samara is pregnant. At any rate, when the time comes, it will be our decision to make. You will not have any input in it."
"I just want to be a part of your lives. Of the lives of my grandchildren—"
"If you think I would ever let you be alone with my children, you're a fucking idiot," I hissed in outrage. "Who do you think helped him every time you hit him? You never hugged your son. Never gave him any indication he was anything but a legacy and a cash cow to you. The first time I hugged him was the first time he'd been held since his mother died. You will never have anything to do with my kids." Lino's hand tightened on me, and he subtly shifted around to step in front of me. As if he expected his father might hurt me, and it wouldn't surprise me if he did. Gabriele's face tightened, a snarl curling his lips as he glowered at me. But when his attention shifted to Lino, something he saw there made him shift that grimace to a small smile.
"Well at least if nothing else, you'll teach my grandsons bravery and be a strong mother, since Lino clearly can't be bothered with such things. I thought I'd raised a man, not someone who hid behind his wife and let her baby him." His father turned all that ire toward him, but Lino didn't flinch. "Maybe she should be Matteo's second-in-command."
There'd been a time when his father's cruelty struck hard and deep, but it appeared that time had passed. "If you think I'm weak, you're wrong. I survived you. That took more strength than you'll ever know. Thank you for your blessing," he returned. "The door’s over there."
“I truly hope Connor is found soon. It would be beneficial for us all to put this behind us,” Gabriele said with a nod to me, though his face twisted like he'd swallowed glass. Nonetheless, we had his blessing. I had to hope that meant he wouldn't interfere with our marriage at the least. He turned for the door after one last lingering glare to Lino. His wife trailed after him in heels that made it difficult for her to keep up. He didn't slow, not even when he tugged the door open and stepped outside. She paused at the threshold, murmuring "good luck," before she continued on her way.
As soon as the door closed, I turned Lino to face me and buried my face in his chest. "Well that went well."
His chest shook silently, and I looked up to see him rubbing his hand over his face. "You're impossible to control, you know that?" he asked, but laughter rippled out to follow his words.
"You seem to do just fine," I murmured back, pouting when he stepped away and moved to clean up the dinner from the island counter.
"There's something on the dining room table for you. Go grab it for me, yeah?" I narrowed my eyes on him, but let my curiosity get the best of me and retreated to go see. When I made it there, all I saw was a manila envelope resting on the table. I fought back my pout. Lino didn't give me gifts often, but when he did, they were the most thoughtful gifts I ever received.
A guitar, guitar picks with doves on them, equipment I could use to record, books he thought I might like to read. While they weren't often extravagant, they showed he was thinking of me beyond the cursory gift of flowers that Connor had done when he wanted something. I strolled back to the kitchen, wanting to be with Lino when I opened the heavy packet.
"Go ahead," he chuckled, and I unwound the little string to pull out the papers inside.
The words at the top of the page shouldn't have been a surprise. "There's been an offer on my house already?" I asked. And a generous offer at that, from the numbers reflected further down the page.
"Several. This is the best one. It's a solid offer, Little Dove. We should take it."
I nodded and shrugged. "I trust your judgment. You know I hate legal shit. Do I need to sign?"
He rocked back on his heels as he looked at me, then leaned forward to grip the edge of the counter as his eyes smoldered on mine. "You aren't going to fight me? Insist that you're an independent woman and can look at your own offer?"
I chuckled. "Are we hurting for money?"
"Safe to say no." He grinned, and I knew hearing me refer to it as an us pleased him.
"Then it doesn't matter. I don't want that house; I never did. Let's sell it. Besides," I shrugged, tapping my finger on the counter. "I don't recall signing a prenup. That means what's yours is mine, and what's mine is yours."
"Should I have made you sign a prenup, Little Dove?" he whispered, stepping around the counter until he came up behind me. "Are you going to take all my money and try to run?"
"Try?" I sighed back, tipping my head to the side when his lips pressed into the flesh right below my ear.
"I will always chase you, vita mia. Always."
"Hmm," I murmured in thought. "Even if I found someone else?" I knew it would be the way to push him, the way to get exactly what I was looking for in the wake of his father's interruption to our sweet evening. It seemed only natural.
He smacked the underside of my breast, making me squeal with a giggle. "I have spent a great number of years chasing men out of your life, Little Dove. Men who weren't worthy of you, boys who thought to toy with you and toss you aside. If any dared to touch you now that you're mine, I'd kill them with my bare hands." The deep growl of his voice told me he didn't find it amusing when I pushed, but I stood from the chair and pivoted to face him.
"Chasing men off?" I asked, my brow furrowing.
He nodded. "Mostly in school. Rick. David. Craig. None of them deserved you."
"Why didn't you chase off Connor?" I asked, choosing to focus on that instead of the hypocrisy that he'd been chasing off boys while he dated. As much as it pissed me off, it also felt good to know that even back then he'd wanted me, no matter what it had been that stopped him from claiming me. I hoped to understand it more someday, but today wasn't the day for that conversation. No matter how much I wanted it, the beast loomed too close to the surface for a reasonable conversation.
"By the time you met Connor, I'd decided I had to stop. That I wasn't going to interfere in your love life anymore. You have no idea how much I regret that decision, Samara. If I'd gotten rid of him like the others—"
"Don't. I don't want you to think like that. If I hadn't been with Connor, I wouldn't be who I am today. I happen to like myself for the first time in my life, I think. I'm responsible for my own choices, and I should have left him the first time he hit me. But I didn't. Or the second, or the third. I waited until it went way too far before I got out, and that's not your fault. You can't protect me from what you didn't know, my Stallion," I whispered, leaning in to touch my lips to his. "Besides, it led us here. I like where we are."
"I like where we are too," he whispered, lifting me around the waist until I perched back on the stool, and he slid between my legs. "I never want to leave where we are."
I giggled, pressing my lips to his neck as I unbuttoned his shirt. "I do have one objection."
"And what's that?"
"You have clothes on, and that's a crying shame." With a chuckle, he helped me divest him of those clothes, and just like that, I was happy with where we were.
So fucking happy
✽✽✽
Catching up on the analysis I'd missed in my absence seemed like a never-ending project. Usually, I entered values daily to keep it from getting to be too much for me to do in one sitting.
I'd never had a greater appreciation for that system but trying to get caught up me
ant that it felt like the rest of my job duties just fell by the wayside in the meantime. But I also knew that Jasper depended on those numbers, a quick check and balance to be sure that his people were managing funds appropriately without him having to take the time to do it himself. Being the only person he trusted with the task had always been flattering and one of the achievements in my life I felt truly proud to own.
Even if it wasn't the career path I'd ever seen for myself, I was good at it. I defied all those people who said I'd end up a cleaning lady for the rest of my life if I tried to reach too far. Like mother, like daughter, like there was something shameful about her job.
I just didn't have a domestic bone in my body. I couldn't cook, and my cleaning tended to leave a trail of dirt behind.
I couldn't handle it. It had been something Connor complained about constantly, even if we had a housekeeper. I wasn't a slob; I picked up after myself. I just didn't scrub the shower or clean the kitchen I didn't use.
Lino seemed to find it endearing, never complaining once when he had to cook every night or order in if he didn't feel like it. He'd known who I was when he married me, so committing to that woman and then complaining about those things would have been ridiculous.
Why marry someone you wanted to change?
When the door to the offices shoved open, I didn't even glance up from the files opened on my computer. "I'll be with you in just a moment," I said politely, noting down the numbers on my spreadsheet before turning my eyes up to the man who glared down at me.
I knew who he was, and I knew exactly why he could have been so angry—though how he'd found out was beyond me. "What can I do for you, Sir?" I asked, standing up from behind my desk to be level with the man. If nothing else, I hated when a man towered over me with anger in his eyes, but I swallowed down my moment of panic.
"I need to speak to Jasper Rowe, immediately," Jim Clarke hissed at me, leaning forward to grip the edge of my desk so that we were eye level. I forced a bitchy smile to my face, glancing around him to look at the closed door of Jasper's office. As if I didn't know exactly what his schedule dictated for the hour.
"I'm afraid that won't be possible. Mr. Rowe is with a client." I took my seat, picking up my highlighter and turning back to my analysis. "If you'd like to take a seat in the waiting area, he has an opening in about twenty minutes. I can see if he'd like to squeeze you in then, Mr. Clarke."
His eyes narrowed, and he studied me as if he hadn't expected me to know his name. "And how is it that a secretary knows my name?"
"I can assure you; I know every client of Lamb & Rowe. Now, the seating area is right over there"—I pointed to the four chairs at the front of the office—"If you'd like to wait. If not, I can take a message and relay it to Jasper. I'm sure he'd be happy to contact you when he has a moment."
"He will see me now!" he yelled, slamming his hands down on the edge of my desk.
"Sir, if you cannot control yourself then I'll have no choice but to call security, and if I feel threatened, I'll call my security as well. I can assure you; you will not find it pleasant when my husband tracks you down if I involve mine in this situation. You should take that warning very seriously, because I do not make it lightly."
He heaved a breath, standing straight even though he had no clue who my husband was. "I'll wait," he grunted, striding for the seating area.
"Wonderful." I went back to my work, ignoring the way he glowered at me as I did so.
"You seem awfully self-assured for a secretary," he commented, and I sighed before turning my attention back to him.
"I'm an Executive Assistant, not a secretary. Secretary is an outdated term that is no longer used. I could call the head of Human Resources up, if you'd like to discuss what the acceptable terms are for what Assistants do. I imagine a man like you has his own Assistant, so perhaps it would be an enlightening conversation for you," I returned with a snap that made him fight back a smile. His salt and pepper hair twinkled in the lighting when he sighed and leaned forward to drop his head into his hands.
"My wife had an affair with Mark Dobson. I want to know why Jasper doesn't keep a closer eye on his employees."
"You'll need to wait to speak with Mr. Rowe, I'm afraid. I'm not at liberty to discuss such matters with you." He fell silent, studying me intently and when Jasper escorted his client out of the office, Jasper nodded.
"Join us please," he indicated, and I sighed and pushed away from the pile of work I needed to get done.
"Right this way, Mr. Clarke," I murmured, letting him follow me into Jasper's office. As soon as we were both inside, I closed the door for privacy.
"What can I do for you, Mr. Clarke?" Jasper asked, taking his seat behind his desk. I took mine, perching on the chair that sat next to his desk and leaving Jim to claim one of the seats in front of him. My tablet in hand, I opened up my notepad and grabbed my stylus to jot down my notes quickly.
"I'd like to speak with Mark Dobson as well. I want to know why he was allowed to fuck my wife and nobody bothered to inform me!"
"Mr. Dobson is no longer an employee of Lamb & Rowe. We terminated his employment the moment Mrs. Bellandi learned of his indiscretions." I smirked at the casual way Jasper inserted my name into the conversation, a casual poke at the irate man sitting on the other side of the desk that he should remain respectful in the coming conflict.
"Mrs. Bellandi?" he asked me with an eyebrow raise.
"As in Mrs. Angelino Bellandi," I confirmed, though I hated falling back on my connection to Lino in my business hours. I also knew that anything the man did or said would eventually find its way back to Lino since everything did. I couldn't have him getting angry that I hadn't armed myself with the protection he gave in name or in the bodyguard who likely sat in a car waiting for my day to be finished. "I was the one who uncovered Mark Dobson's affair with your wife." The admission came too easily. "I run monthly checks on every employee's investments, to be sure that the time they log in matches the return we see. To be sure they continue to be the best of the best, you understand? Mr. Dobson logged a sudden increase in hours, but his numbers didn't change. So I checked the security footage to see what he was doing during the overtime hours."
Clarke swallowed, rolling his eyes to the ceiling. "And why wasn't I informed?"
"We aren't responsible for your wife's decisions, Mr. Clarke," Jasper said quietly. "We are responsible for the ethical practice of our employees, which is why Mark Dobson was fired immediately after we found the affair."
"You should still inform people of their wives affairs," Clarke protested.
"Unless we'd shown you photo evidence, which is not a pretty thing to see of one's spouse, we would run the risk of client's not believing us. It would turn ugly, and we hoped to keep the firm's name out of your marriage and divorce," Jasper explained leaning forward to place his elbows on the desk.
"If your wife isn't trustworthy, you should hire a private investigator. Not expect companies to do your dirty work for you," I snapped. "A company will always protect its own interest. You of all people should know that."
"Well this has been most unhelpful," Clarke sighed, standing. "I have a meeting with my divorce lawyer. I think you'll understand that I'll be transferring my accounts to another firm."
"I understand," Jasper said, not a hint of hesitation in his voice though I knew the loss of Clarke as a client would hurt. Jasper would recover, he always did, and the man was made of money in the meantime.
He hadn't gotten to the top of the Chicago's Most Eligible Bachelor list alongside Lino just by being handsome.
"Goodbye, Mr. Clarke." I nodded to him when he stepped out of the office without another glance our way. With a sigh, I jumped up from my seat and went back to my desk. I had more numbers to study than I even wanted to think about.
"You handled him well, Samara," Jasper said as I went. I smirked at him, because aside from a single moment of panic in the beginning, his anger and posturing hadn't intimidated me. I t
hought of how I might have reacted a few months prior and knew that healing would always be a long process.
But thanks to Lino I'd made more progress than I could have dreamed in a short time. More than I had made in months without him. The nightmares only came rarely, and I was more well-rested than I could remember being in years. Probably since the nights in school when Lino would sneak into my room and cuddle with me after his father hit him.
He was my sleep charm.
✽✽✽
Lino surprised me with a date night at Angel's, and I melted at the thought of really, truly having a date with my husband. While we'd gone out a few times, it had always been casual, or business related for Lino. Angel's felt familiar, reminding me of all our lunch dates over the years where he'd brought me to the family-owned restaurant, and I wondered how many dates had passed through the same doors on his arm.
"Mr. Bellandi," the server said immediately after we took our seats, pouring fresh water into the glasses on the table. "Could I interest you in wine this evening?" Lino went about ordering wine, knowing I didn't know the first thing about it, but knowing which ones I preferred even if I couldn't keep track.
I turned to the menu, as if I hadn't looked it over a hundred times in the past. When Lino's hand took mine and made me look over at him, I tipped my lips up at the odd look on his face. "What is it?"
"Do you have any idea how many times I took you here and wished I could just hold your hand?" He brought it to his lips, kissing the back so lightly that I giggled.
"Probably as many times as I wished you could just take me home after."
He grinned at me in response, shaking his head. "I've created a monster. How is a man supposed to keep up with you, vita mia?"
I snorted at him, pressing a hand to my face as I giggled. When the waiter brought our wine, we waited in silence until he'd left. "That's funny." The man was insatiable, with a stamina that still managed to shock me even though I spent many nights being woken up at random moments so he could have his way with me.
Forgivable Sins: A Dark Mafia Romance (Bellandi Crime Syndicate Book 2) Page 25