I roll the bedding into a ball. “Hey, Vinny. Can you toss this into the trash on your way out?”
“Sure thing.”
“Thanks.”
Vinny stops in the doorway of the bedroom and looks back at me. “I’m sorry this happened.”
“Me too,” Monte adds.
I don’t blame Vinny and Monte for any of this. I don’t even blame Angelica, although I’m certain she encourages it. Luca is a grown man and makes his own decisions.
Vinny and Monte leave but Stephan sticks around.
“Getting rid of the bedding is a good excuse to decorate this room in something new that you like.”
“I’m not sad to see it go. I hated that bedspread.” It looked like Luca had picked it out.
“I think you should go with something pink and floral.”
“You love antagonizing Luca.” I knew it the first time we met, and he took me to the VIP room of Fever without warning Luca. He wanted to see a fight.
“I’m his brother. Nothing gives me more pleasure than annoying him.”
“And tonight’s beating? Did that give you pleasure?”
“Yes, but not for the reason you might think. My brother made a mistake and finally understood how he was hurting you. He took ownership and did what was necessary to correct his wrongdoing. He made me proud tonight.”
“I think you’re going to make some lucky girl a very good husband one day.”
“Would I make a very good husband for your sister?”
“Gemma?”
He nods. “We danced at your wedding and again tonight.”
I’m sorry, Stephan, but my mother isn’t looking for a second Rossini son-in-law.
“I think your sister is absolutely beautiful.”
“Gemma is beautiful, both inside and out.”
“Is she betrothed to anyone?”
“No.”
“My father will be choosing a bride for me soon. I’d like to have some say in that.”
“I’m sure you would, but your family already has all of the Bellini holdings. You would gain nothing by marrying Gemma. She has no wealth to bring into a marriage.”
“I’m not Luca. I don’t care about those things. But if my father wants to debate it, I can argue that she and I would have half Rossini, half Bellini children, same as you and Luca. That’s something that seems to be pretty important to him.”
Calling his grandchildren half Bellini is very important to Marco for some reason.
“I’ll talk with Gemma, and if she’s open to the match, I’ll speak to our mother on your behalf.”
“Thank you, Emilia. I appreciate that.”
“Thank you for your help tonight. I couldn’t have done this without you.”
“Is there anything else I can do before I go?”
I shrug. “I don’t know of anything at the moment.”
“I’m only a phone call away if you need me.”
“I’m sure the patrol soldiers will be here soon. I’ll have them in the house if I need immediate help.”
“I’ll call tomorrow and check in on the asshole to see how he’s doing.”
I adore Stephan’s wit. I sort of would love to see him with my sister.
Stephan stops in the doorway, looking back. “I meant what I said before. He doesn’t deserve you. But I’m hoping with time, he’ll change my mind.”
“Maybe he’ll surprise us both.”
I wash Luca’s blood from my body and put on a clean nightgown before slipping into bed beside him.
“I’m sorry, Emilia.”
I’m surprised when I hear Luca’s voice because I thought he was asleep. Or unconscious.
“How are you not knocked out?”
“It’s the cocaine.”
“Right.” I didn’t think about that.
“I’m so damn sorry about the whole thing with Angelica.”
“As demonstrated by asking my uncle to beat you half to death.”
“Getting my ass kicked isn’t enough. I need you to hear me say the words too.”
“I believe you.”
“I’m going to stop.”
“Before the baby comes?”
He hesitates a moment. “Now. Tonight. I’m not doing it again.”
“I don’t want you to make that kind of promise to me unless you mean to carry through with it.”
“I mean it. I’m done with that shit for good.”
He’s addicted, and he’s never had to go without it. “What’s going to happen after a few days and you’re craving it? Are you going to sneak away and come home with dilated pupils?”
“I’m not going to do that to you or Alessandro.”
“I want to believe you.” But I don’t.
“I’m going to show you instead of giving you empty promises.”
I lace my fingers through his. “I know how much you already love this baby. You can do it for him.”
“I can do it for you.” He squeezes my hand and brings it to his mouth, kissing the top. “But I’m going to need your help. I can’t do it alone.”
“I’ll do anything to help you get through this.”
“It’s going to get bad. It could turn into too much for you to handle.”
“I expect it to be bad, and I can handle it. I’m not delicate.”
“Stephan should stay here in case you need him.”
“He’ll be happy to help. He wants you to get better.”
“I don’t want to see anyone else while I’m crashing.”
“I’ll tell everyone you’re sick and can’t get out of bed. No one in the family will know you’re detoxing.”
“My brother’s right. I don’t deserve you. I don’t deserve to be this baby’s father.”
“If you truly believe that, then change. Become a man who deserves to have me as his wife and Alessandro as his son.”
“I am. And I’m going to become the man you would have chosen if you’d been given the choice.”
My old life is falling away right before my eyes. He’s making me feel something for him.
Would it be so terrible to fall in love with my husband?
28
Luca Rossini
Emilia returns from the bathroom with a fresh, cool washcloth, wiping the sweat from my face and forehead. “I’m going to turn up the air conditioning.”
I grip her wrist. “Don’t. You’re already shivering.”
“It’s fine. I can put on more clothes.”
“You’re pregnant. You shouldn’t be chilled.”
“And you shouldn’t be sweating like this.”
“I’m okay.” I’m not okay and we both know it.
“What can I do? Tell me and I’ll do it.”
“It’s all part of the process. It’ll pass.”
When we were trying to conceive, I went four days without cocaine. I used whiskey and cigarettes to push through day three and a little more to get me through day four. That isn’t something I told Emilia because it made me feel weak.
And now, day six? Or is it day seven? I can’t remember anymore.
I’m in more agony than I was when Riccardo beat me to a bloody pulp. I have no energy, and yet I’m unable to sleep. The last three times I dozed, I dreamt that Emilia and the baby died during childbirth. It was so vivid—and terrifying—in my mind.
“Your mother called earlier.”
“What did you tell her?”
“That you have food poisoning. She wanted to come over, but I told her she should stay away.”
“Thank you for handling her. And everyone else.”
“It’s what a wife does for her husband.”
“I know this hasn’t been easy for you. Thank you for taking care of me.”
“We’ll make it through this, and you’ll be so much stronger when you come out on the other side. A better leader. A better father.”
“A better husband.”
I plotted and killed so I could have her for myself. Instead of plotting to kil
l me in return, she chooses to save me. Who does that?
How did I get so lucky to have this woman? I don’t deserve her or our child.
“If I cook something for you, do you think you could eat?”
It seems like I would be hungry after going so many days with barely eating anything. “I could try.”
“It’s been a while. I think you should put something in your stomach, or you’ll become weak.”
I’m already weak.
“Maybe soup?”
“Does creamy tomato parm sound good?”
“Yeah, if it’s not too much trouble.”
“It’s no trouble at all.”
Emilia leaves, and I’m not alone for long before Stephan taps on the door. “Is it okay if I come in?”
“Sure.”
He sits in the chair he brought to the bedroom, the one he holds down when Emilia has to step away from me for more than two seconds.
“I’m not suicidal, you know? I can be left alone.”
“I know, but you’re going through some pretty rough shit. You need to know that you’re not alone.”
“You sound like her.”
“Well, she’s a pretty smart girl.”
“That, she is.”
“Plus, she’s not bad to look at. Neither is her sister.”
“You like her sister?”
“I don’t know, but I’d like to find out if I do.”
“Gemma?”
“That’s the one. I asked Emilia to see what she can do.”
“I’m sure she’ll do what she can. My wife likes you.”
“I’m waiting for Dad to bring up the topic of marriage any day now. I’d like to be able to choose my own wife.”
“Having your wife chosen for you isn’t so bad.”
“Yeah, not bad for you because you lucked out. I might not be so lucky.”
“I am one lucky bastard. That’s for sure.”
“Do you feel like coming downstairs to eat? It might help you feel better to get out of bed for a while.”
I doubt it. “I don’t feel like doing anything.”
I’ve never been in a slump like this. It’s as though I feel nothing.
Happiness. Joy. Excitement.
I’m empty inside.
I think about the baby, and I can’t even get excited about him. I’m hollow and ashamed to tell anyone. I won’t admit it because what kind of asshole father can’t be happy about the kid that he’s done so much to get?
“I’m sure Emilia will bring your dinner up here if you don’t feel like going downstairs.”
“I think that’s better. Maybe I’ll feel like coming down for breakfast in the morning.”
Stephan leaves when Emilia returns with my soup. As usual, it’s tasty. Everything she cooks is delicious, but I don’t have an appetite. All I can think about is cocaine. “This is great, but my appetite hasn’t returned yet.”
“It’s okay. Maybe later.”
She takes the tray away, and we lie in bed watching television for a while, but the sounds and flashing lights are too much for me. I need a calmer environment. “Maybe I should try reading for a little while.”
“That’s a great idea. Reading always helps you fall sleep.”
It does when I’m not foaming at the mouth for some blow.
Letters blur. Words run together. I drift, thinking about getting high.
I close my book and toss it on the nightstand. “I can’t concentrate. I’m going to try to go to sleep.”
Emilia closes her book and places it on her nightstand. “Turn over on your stomach. I’m going to give you a massage. Maybe that’ll relax you.”
I’m so on edge. I don’t know if I can stand to be touched right now, but I don’t want to tell her that.
She gets up and goes to the radio while I turn over. “You love music. Maybe something soft and slow will be soothing.”
I doubt it. “We can try it.”
She comes back to bed and sits on my ass, stretching forward to grip my shoulders while “Magnet and Steel” plays. “Relax, Luca. Deep breaths. You’re so tense.”
“I’m trying, but this is an intense situation for me.”
“I know it’s hard for you right now, but you’re eventually going to be okay. You have to keep thinking about the end result.”
That’s great advice, but it doesn’t stop the overwhelming craving. The hunger inside me feels like it’s taking over my mind and body.
Her hands are all over my back, rubbing my skin. And I can’t stand it. “I’m sorry, baby, but that’s not helping at all. I need you to stop.”
“Okay. I’m sorry.”
She moves away and lies on her side next to me.
“It’s not your fault. It’s me. All me.”
I turn over and lie on my back, staring at the ceiling and blowing breath through pursed lips.
“Maybe I can take your mind off of it another way?”
She scoots closer and stretches upward, kissing the length of my neck. Her hand slides into the front of my boxers and wraps around my soft cock.
I want her. I always want this girl. But right now, I want cocaine more.
“I can’t, Emilia. I want to but I’m in full-blown withdrawal. Sex is the last thing on my mind right now.”
“I’m sorry. I don’t mean to be insensitive to what you’re going through. I’m just trying to distract you any way I can.”
“I don’t think you’re insensitive at all. I appreciate everything you’re trying, but I think the only thing that’s going to fix this is time.” Or cocaine.
“Let’s turn off the lights and try to sleep. It’s been a really long day. Maybe you can fall asleep if it’s dark and quiet.”
“We can try that.”
I lie on my back staring at the dark above me while I listen to Emilia breathe. Tapping my fingertips against my chest, I drum “You Really Got Me” by Van Halen between glances at the clock. When I’ve drummed for at least thirty minutes, I decide that I can’t do it anymore. And I can’t stay in this bed another minute.
Emilia is in a deep slumber when I leave the bed. I know because the rhythm of her breathing doesn’t change when the bed shifts.
She’s been sleeping harder the last few weeks. I think the pregnancy takes more out of her than she’s willing to admit.
I tiptoe to the closet and take out a pair of jeans and shirt. Slowly, I dress in the dark, hating myself for what I’m about to do to her and our son.
I said that I was done. I told her I was stopping—stopping for her. But the truth is that I can’t live without it. I need it as much as I need my next breath.
I go still when I hear her stir.
“Luca?” she whispers.
I don’t answer because one, I can’t explain why I’m dressed as though I’m going out. Two, if I don’t say anything, then maybe she’ll go back to sleep.
“Don’t… Luca.”
Fuck. I’m busted. So fucking busted.
What am I going to say to her?
“Love you… Luca,” she murmurs.
I hear those words and realize that she wasn’t calling out to me because I woke her. She’s saying my name because she’s dreaming of me.
Love you… Luca. Fuck. Even if she is only dreaming and doesn’t mean it, how can I walk out of here after hearing her say those words?
I undress and return to bed, prepared to drum every song I can think of if it keeps me from leaving to go get fucked up. And then a different thought comes to mind. The story I’ll tell our children when they ask me how I met their mother.
The story will begin like this: Once upon a time, a devil fell in love with an angel.
29
Emilia Rossini
The Rossini compound is stunning. Tens of thousands of twinkling lights on the exterior. An enormous live tree making the first floor of the mansion smell like a winter forest. Garland and Christmas collectibles, and red velvet bows everywhere. Viviana really goes all out.
> Christmas is going to be different this year without Papà and Giovanni. And Nic. But this year I have Luca and our baby. Sort of. I include the baby because he’s been working overtime to make his presence known.
“Look at you.”
My mother puts her hands on the sides of my stomach. “My grandchild is growing big and strong.”
“Is that a polite way of telling me that I’m getting fat?”
“The baby is growing, and your body is accommodating him. You aren’t fat.” A line forms across my mother’s brow. “Did Luca call you fat?”
“Oh God no.” I put my hands on my stomach. “He loves my round belly. He can hardly keep his hands off it.”
“Only a few more months to go.”
“Luca is going to die if April doesn’t hurry up and get here.”
My mother laughs. “Good. That’ll save you from having to kill him.”
We haven’t talked in a while about our plan to kill the Rossinis. When we do, there’s going to be a problem—a big one—and my mother isn’t going to be happy.
I tried, but I can’t escape loving him.
And I can’t kill the man I love.
“I don’t know why Viviana insisted on my attendance at this Christmas party for the Rossinis. I am not a Rossini. I think she did it to piss me off.”
I thought Viviana’s invitation was a nice gesture. “She wants to include you in the holidays because you’re going to share a grandchild.”
“This child will bear the Rossini name, and that’s all. He is our boy and our boy alone. He will be raised like a Bellini.”
Bellinis versus Rossinis. I’m sick to death of hearing about it.
My mother gestures toward Stephan. “I’ve noticed that one giving a lot of attention to Gemma at these get-togethers.”
I’m glad Mamma noticed and is bringing it up. I didn’t want to be the one to introduce the idea. “That’s Stephan. Marco will be choosing a bride for him soon, and he has expressed interest in Gemma.”
Mamma’s head jerks toward me. “Marco or Stephan has expressed interest in Gemma?”
“Stephan.”
“He told Luca?”
“He actually told both of us. He wants to spend time with her and see if they’re compatible.”
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