Chapter 19

Nineteen

Elena – One Week Later

I bite my bottom lip as I look at the tall glass building where Romeo's main office is.

I never come here, never thought I was welcome, but here I am, trying to, I don't know, make an effort .

For the past week, I know I've been off with him. After he returned with his stitches torn and I chewed him out while re-stitching his wound, I’ve kept my distance, and he's allowed me, knowing I needed it.

My sister tried to kill me….

She tried to kill my baby….

And for a split second, I thought my husband was in on it.

Guilt still fills me, and I know we need to discuss it. I promised him I would try us again, try to trust him, and well, this is me trying.

I hope he doesn't send me packing.

"You need to put one foot in front of the other to walk, El," Aldo says, and I don't need to look at him to know he's smirking.

"Why do I like you again?" I question.

He snorts. "Because I'm like a big brother to you."

I hum. "That explains why you annoy me, then."

This time, he laughs, and I take a deep breath, my eyes going to the building again.

"He misses you, El. Go on in," he encourages, and I nod. With shaky legs, I walk toward the building, heading inside.

People are rushing around, and I see a guard near some barriers. Instead of going to the reception desk, I head his way.

When he notices me, he raises his large hand and says, "Miss, you need to head to the reception desk and sign in."

I clear my throat, wring my fingers together, and whisper, "Aldo told me to come to you. My name's Elena Russo…."

His dark brown eyes widen, and he stands straighter, before clearing his throat. "I'm sorry, but I will have to ask you for ID."

He looks nervous, so I give him a small smile, open my purse, and hand him my driver’s license.

He relaxes when I don't complain, and he rasps, "Sorry, Mrs. Russo. It's just several women try, you know…."

He shrugs, and I laugh a little. "That doesn't surprise me, though I do want to surprise Rome."

He grins and nods. "That we can do. Head on over to the elevator and press number 42."

I smile in thanks and follow his instructions, my eyes looking up at the ceiling, the sky visible from the ground door.

"Wow," I whisper, and the woman behind me snorts. I look her way to see her lip curled.

She looks like a replica of my sister only with ginger hair.

Ignoring her, I walk into the elevator and press the number I was told, and she sneers, "Mr. Russo has requested no guests today."

I raise a brow.

Please tell me this is not his receptionist….

She looks me up and down. "I'm his secretary; I know his schedule better than anyone."

Seriously, Romeo, you couldn't get a short fat man….

I smirk and ask, "Including his wife?"

She chuckles, flicking her hair over her shoulder. "I spend more time with him than she does. Pretty sure their marriage is just for show."

Hmmm, interesting….

I tilt my head. "I didn't realize he was screwing his secretary."

She cockily smirks. "He's not…yet."

Or ever, I think.

The woman is delusional if she thinks he'd go there with her. Heck, my own sister tried daily, and he shot her down—something I've started to believe.

It doesn't take long until we reach his floor, and the doors open, showcasing a large space.

My mouth opens a little at all the silver and gold. The back wall is just a very large window overlooking New York City.

It's amazing….

The woman barges past me, her heels clicking on the floor, her tight dress showing every curve. I look down at my maternity maxi dress, which I may have snuck out of our closet this morning.

I know he wants me to move back into our room, but I'm not sure if I'm ready for that.

I mean, I still don't trust him; last week proved that. Maybe I never will….

Guilt fills me again as the woman sneers, "Wait here."

I scoff and follow her instead.

She knocks and opens the door, and Romeo snaps, "Helena, I told you not to disturb me unless it's about my wife."

My stomach flutters at his words, and the woman stutters, "Yes, sir, but I-I just, there's a woman here?—"

He cuts her off, "I don't give a shit. I'm in a meeting, and unless it's my wife, which I highly doubt, send them away."

I smile, lean around the woman, and ask, "Fancy lunch?"

Romeo's eyes widen, and he grins large as the woman turns sharply, sneering, "I told you to wait."

I smirk. "And he just told you not to bother him unless it's his wife." I lean against the door frame. “So tell me again, how are you going to get into my husband's pants because you spend so much more time with him than I do and know him better?" I raise a brow. “What was it you said…. Oh yeah, our marriage is just for show, right?"

Her face goes white, and Rome growls, "What did my wife just fucking say?"

Helena stutters, "I-I uh, nothing, sir. I-I, I'll go fetch those Murdock files."

With that said, she runs off, nearly tripping over her heels, and I giggle, looking at my husband. "That was fun."

He smirks. "And somehow I'd bet my wedding ring she gloated that bullshit to you, not knowing who you were."

I shrug. "Like I said, that was fun."

He chuckles, and I walk over to him, straight into his arms, my bump squishing between us before I notice my father and cousin.

I step back, and instantly feel bad for interrupting. Clearing my throat, I apologize, "I'm sorry I interrupted. I just thought we could go to lunch. I know I've been off this week, but I can go…."

Papa smiles. "We're just about done anyway, Printsessa ."

Maxim walks over to me and kisses my head. I narrow my eyes at him, "You're still not forgiven."

He chuckles. "Yeah, I am. You love me too much to stay mad at me."

I raise a brow. "And you still stood back while my husband tore his stitches open."

He winces. "In my defense, dvoyurodnyy brat , he would have punched me if I got in the way, and my face is too pretty to be hurt."

I snort, leaning against my husband, whose arm goes to my waist, and my father tilts his head. "Out of curiosity, what would you do with your sister if you were in my shoes?”

I flinch and look between the men, all looking at me expectantly. Romeo gently glides his fingers up and down my arm to help soothe me, and I whisper, "She's still my sister, so honestly, I'd just marry her off to someone out of the country, but it's not my decision, Papa. She's still your daughter."

Papa nods, his eyes soft as he walks my way. Gently, he kisses my forehead and whispers, "Will you ever forgive me, Printsessa ?"

I give Rome more of my weight, who takes it willingly, and I rasp, looking into my father's violet eyes, "I did years ago, Papa. I fell for Romeo, and that was your saving grace. It just took me a long time to figure out he fell for me first. You keeping me in the dark about everything—well, that was your downfall, but I'm dealing with it."

He nods, kisses my forehead again, and whispers, "I'm proud of you, Elena," before shaking Romeo's hand. "Thank you for always putting her first."

I feel Romeo nod as Papa leaves. Maxim kisses my head next, and shakes Romeo's hand before following, leaving us alone.

As soon as the door closes, I turn in Romeo's arms, wrapping mine around his neck as he leans against his desk, keeping me between his legs.

"I look frumpy compared to your receptionist," I admit, playing with the strands of hair at the base of his neck.

He grins. "You, farfalla , look gorgeous, and outshine any woman."

I feel my cheeks heat as he chuckles, gently kissing my nose.

Sniffling, tears building, I whisper, "I'm sorry."

Romeo leans forward, taking my lips with his before he counters, "You have nothing to apologize for, El. I've given you no reason to trust me over the years. If I'd just told you the truth years ago, then things would be different right now, but I didn't, and it's going to take me time to earn your trust."

Tears fall, not at all shocked he knew what I was sorry for, and I rasp, "I feel guilty that I thought you could be the type of person to harm me, harm our child, when over the years you've always kept me safe."

He sighs, moving his hands from my waist up my back, and into my loose hair, gripping it at the base of my neck, forcing me to look up at him.

His eyes are serious as he states, "I'm only going to say this once, farfalla . You are my wife, my whole fucking world, and even if it takes me years, I'll gain your trust back." His gaze pins mine. "It's going to take time, and I know there will be times you'll question me, and I'm okay with that because I fucking love you…."

I sniffle and whisper, "I love you, too," causing him to smile.

"I know, farfalla . It's why you never tried to actually move out. Your head wanted to leave, but your heart belongs right here with me."

I smile, kissing his lips gently. He licks the seam of mine, and I open, tangling my tongue with his, allowing him to deepen the kiss. My legs weaken, my libido taking over.

I groan as he pulls back, making him smirk, and I rasp, "Have I ever told you how amazing you look in a suit?"

He chuckles, but I don't care because the way his white shirt stretches over his muscles makes my mouth water.

He leans down and gives me a peck, whispering, "No sex until you've moved back into our room."

I groan again, making him laugh as I push away from him, walk toward the black door, and say, "Let's go to lunch, then."

He laughs again, coming up behind me as I open the door. His arms wrap around my waist from behind, his lips to my ear, as he whispers, "You're giving in, baby...it won't be long until you're where you belong."

I smile, ignoring Helena's eyes on us. My hands grip Romeo's arms as he guides us to the elevator, not confirming or denying his words.

"I'll be gone for the rest of the day, Helena. Report to Antonio," Rome says, and I grin wide at the thought of spending the rest of our Saturday together.

I think I can get used to this side of my husband. I just hope I can learn to trust him again.