Chapter 12

Twelve

Romeo – Two Weeks Later

I gulp my scotch as I lean against the wall, looking out the window from my office that overlooks the garden. My eyes take in my wife as she gently removes the weeds from around the roses near her arbor.

She’s practically glowing, pregnancy suiting her. She’s ten weeks along, and a tiny swell has started to appear, a swell I only get to feel when she’s fallen asleep. Using the spare key, I’ve snuck into the guest room every night, a room she’s still refusing to leave, a room she keeps locking at night to keep me out.

Three fucking weeks without her in our bed, without her body connected to mine…. Fuck, I miss her.

I miss her trying to talk my ear off after I’ve come home. I miss the way I’d hold her from behind, placing my nose in her neck, inhaling her intoxicating scent. I fucking miss the way she’d look at me with love, because she did love me and still does, even if she doesn’t want to admit it.

The pain in her eyes proves it every time she looks at me.

Over the years, I ensured to bury myself deep inside her in every way possible while also keeping her at a distance in public, not wanting her to become collateral damage to Liliya’s fuck ups.

I made sure I became her everything, and now she wants to fucking leave me.

Elena smiles as she sniffs the rose. She carefully cuts it before placing it in the basket along with others, her long white blonde hair going everywhere in the slight wind, not that she cares.

She’s wearing one of my shirts and a pair of denim shorts, her feet bare. She looks fucking beautiful and comfortable, and the fact she’ll wear her hair down at home….

I take another sip of my drink, my eyes taking her in, watching her like some creep.

I fucking hate that she believes I’ve fucked her sister, that she thinks I’ve been having an affair. I knew Liliya would play on my being around her over the years, but I guess I was a fucking idiot to go along with keeping Elena in the dark about why.

Feeling my eyes on her, my wife turns, looking my way. Our eyes connect, and nothing but electricity flows through us. The sexual connection is strong, along with the love I feel for her, and the urge to storm toward her and grab her hits hard, my cock begging, but I don’t move. Instead, I keep my eyes on her, not willing to break our connection.

Three fucking weeks without her tight heat, and my cock is struggling, my balls always heavy, my right hand not helping one bit. My cock only wants one thing, and I’m staring at her, but she won’t allow me to touch her unless we’re out in public.

I tilt my head at her, willing for her to come to me, but instead, her eyes sadden, a look that fucking kills me, before she breaks the connection first, turning away from me to continue her gardening, something she loves to do. I sigh, sagging a little with disappointment.

I stand still for a few minutes, keeping my eyes on her, willing for her to turn again, but she doesn’t, and frustration builds.

She’s not giving me the time of fucking day, even when we went to Mexico. Renata apologized repeatedly, and all my wife could say was, “It’s a shame you missed your target,” while completely ignoring me.

Fuck, she even booked a separate room at the resort behind my fucking back.

Haven’t I fucking given her enough evidence to why I had to be the way I was—for her safety, her protection?

Haven’t I fucking proved how much she means to me, how she’s my fucking queen?

Haven’t I given her enough proof that I can’t stand her sister?

Growling with anger, I shove off the wall and go back to my desk, downing my drink before I sit, only to sigh. I can’t even fucking see what color the thing is. It’s full of fucking documents for the legitimate businesses that I’ve been behind on since our Mexico trip, and now I’m too fucking busy clearing up the mishap with our gun shipments.

We have a fucking mole. A south end gang member’s sister is using one of the Greek’s men to find them. I wasn’t even back in New York for five fucking minutes before I got the call.

Sighing, I grab the first folder for one of our restaurants, ready to get on with it. If I don’t, I’ll go outside and throw my wife over my shoulder. My phone rings, making me groan.

“What?” I answer with tension.

“Is that how you always answer your phone, il mio ragazzo ?” my father replies, and I chuckle a little before he says, “I take it your wife is still refusing to speak to you?”

I snort. “She’s even started locking the guest bedroom door at night, thinking it would keep me out.”

Papa sighs. “I’m sorry, il mio ragazzo . I never should have allowed you to sign that fucking contract without re-reading it.”

I hum. “I know, Papa.” I look toward the window again. “But we can’t change the past; we only learn from it.”

“Doesn’t help you now, does it?” he murmurs.

Well, he’s right about that, and I mumble, “No, it doesn’t.”

Two years trying to get her to fall for me, burying myself in her life, four years of marriage ensuring she only saw me, fucking wasted.

I took El for granted; I know I did. I was cocky and thought she’d never be able to leave me, and yet, here she is, trying to divorce me, with my child inside her to boot. I’d do anything to get just one moment back, only one where it's just her and I together, and she’s looking at me like I’m her world again….

“Since when do you like taking baths?” El asks as I gently glide my fingers down her wet arms before linking them with hers, holding her tightly.

I smile at her words as I run my nose along the side of her neck up to her ear, where I gently kiss her, and rasp, “Since you were in here.”

She snorts, relaxing against my chest as I wrap my arms around her, causing the water to spill over the edge, not that I give a shit.

She looks up, tilting her head, and I smile. I run my nose along hers before kissing her lips lightly, then moving mine down her cheek, causing her to move her head again, giving me access. I skim my lips over her skin, giving her goosebumps.

I’d gotten home from work later than normal; some fucker thinking he could get out of paying back the loan he took from us, and Leonardo too busy getting his dick wet to answer his fucking phone and sort it, causing me to step in.

Something about El’s friend going on a date, and him needing to let off steam….

I can’t say I’m too fucking mad at him now, though, because instead of having dinner with my wife where she’d spend twenty minutes talking my ear off just to get me to talk to her, I walk into our ensuite to find her soaking in a tub full of bubbles.

My dick instantly liked what he saw, and he wasn’t alone.

My wife naked, her hair down and wet….

Fuck me, she was a vision.

“Leonardo called me this evening,” she murmurs, and I internally wince.

“Let me guess, he’s upset you didn’t tell him about Holly’s date?” I question.

She hums, gently unlinking our fingers, moving my hands to hold her around her waist, which I comply to instantly. She runs her finger over the tattooed cross along my forearm, and says, “There was nothing to tell because it wasn’t a date. The man she met up with was her uncle, and Leo took it the wrong way, which I told him twenty minutes ago.”

I sigh, kissing her shoulder, and murmur, “He screwed one of the strippers at the club this evening.”

El tuts. “This is why she wants nothing to do with him. She doesn’t even know about his lifestyle, the mafia world, and that would have been difficult for him to win her over…but him screwing someone else?”

She shakes her head in disappointment, and I kiss her shoulder again, and bring my hands up, cupping her tits, my thumbs gently rubbing over her nipples, making her gasp.

“I don’t want to talk about my brother, farfalla ; I want my wife’s tight heat squeezing my dick,” I rasp against her ear, pulling on her nipples, causing her to squirm against me.

Gently biting the spot in between her neck and shoulder, I grip her hips and lift her, turning her to face me. Her hands instantly go to my shoulders, and I blindly direct my rock-hard cock to her entrance, and lower her down on me, her pussy sucking me in.

I groan, “Yeah, I definitely do not want to speak of my brother.”

She giggles, making me grin as I cup her cheek. Rubbing my thumb along it, I guide her face to me, and press my lips against hers. She instantly opens her mouth, and my tongue tangles with hers.

Yeah, I’m not too fucking upset about missing dinner tonight….

“ Il mio ragazzo , I called because your mamma heard a rumor…” my father says, bringing me out of my head. “Apparently, your wife has been looking into leasing apartments.”

I go still, and deny, “No, if that were true, I would know. I have five fucking men on her daily.”

“I know. Like I said, it’s a rumor, and I thought you should know. At least this way, you can watch her and stop anything she plans on doing,” Papa says.

I scoff, “The woman is determined to fucking leave me. She’s trying her hardest to keep me out, and don’t fucking get me started on her parents. She’s cut them off, and they won’t shut up about.”

Papa huffs. “I know, they were around for business drinks last night. Mikhail is at his wit's end. Elena has blocked his number, along with Anastasia’s, who is hurt over it. Why, I don’t know, considering her actions toward her daughter. And then there’s Liliya, who’s been causing havoc since Maxim took over and cut her off. They're pissed she took Elena’s card and tried to use it, causing her arrest for fraud.”

I hum. “I'm not sure if El was hoping that would happen, but it cost Maxim a pretty penny to have the charges dropped, knowing I wouldn’t get involved. Apparently, he’s looking at marrying her off with a low-level Greek.”

Papa laughs. “I’d love to see that.”

I agree, “It would be funny, that’s for sure. The man who ends up with her will most likely fucking kill her within the first year.”

That is if I don’t first.

I’ve lost count of the number of fucking messages she sends me, including naked fucking pictures. It’s no wonder my wife thinks we’re having an affair.

Papa stays on the phone for ten more minutes, going through the business, and then offers to take over half my workload, before ensuring I was bringing El to dinner tomorrow night.

Elena won’t want to disappoint Mamma, so she’ll be there while still ignoring my sorry ass.

Hearing a giggle, I stand and go over to the window, only to smile when I see my wife sitting on the ground, and several of our guard dogs all showing her their affection.

I chuckle when Bruce, our German shepherd, and the meanest fucking dog we have, rolls onto his back for a rub.

“Fucking animals always get her attention,” I murmur with a hint of fondness as my office door opens.

“ Fratello , I didn’t fucking train that dog to submit like that,” Antonio snaps, but he’s not fooling me. I don’t have to look at him to know he’s smiling.

“If it helps, he’s only like that with her,” I reply, my eyes softening as my wife gently grips the dog's head and kisses his nose. “Fuck me, how can someone as sweet as her be brought up around the mafia without turning into someone like Liliya?”

I’m fucking baffled, I really am, because my wife is so fucking pure, so innocent.

“Fuck if I know, fratello , but she needs protecting at all costs,” he replies, and I nod in agreement, not taking my eyes off the vision before me.

I’ll never let anything happen to her. Ever. Even if I have to fucking die.