Twenty Four

Damian

I am sitting at the bar in Gloria’s and reading the latest message from Sergi.

Sergi: the problem is taken care of, and don't fuck this up with Sofia. Be honest about the women and help her move forward. Still no evidence on Candice. Emilia and Luna have been wondering where everyone has gone.

I texted back instantly.

Me: I won't fuck this up. Keep looking; Candice isn’t a saint. As for the other two, make sure they don't find out. They seem to think she's dead. It will be a pleasant surprise.

I look at my wife, and she looks radiant in a short, lacy, black dress and black “fuck me” heels. She looks amazing, and my dick happens to agree. She's laughing at something Bruce says, and I can't help it. I know he's gay; I know he has a man, but fuck if I'm not jealous. I get up and walk toward her and lean over, kissing her cheek and whispering, "I'm just going to make a call, baby."

I feel her nod against me, and I kiss her head.

Once I'm outside, the woman, Gloria, looks at me with a cigarette in her hand and says, "Don't hurt her this time. She's an amazing woman and deserves all the love. If you do hurt her, I'll skin you alive. The next time I see her, I want her to tell me she's moving back to New York permanently, but you must visit. Don't take my girls from me, got it?"

I nod and smile at her threat, lean down, and kiss her cheek. "I promise."

She nods, throws her cigarette on the ground, and goes back in.

I get my phone out and call the one person who’ll want to see my wife when we land—not that I think she deserves it!

The call connects. "Damian?" she asks, confused.

"Lilly, I wanted to call you to let you know my wife and daughter are returning to New York for a few months."

I hear her gasp. "I swear to God, Damian, if you threaten her or kidnap her, I'm going to kill you. You hurt her so much she was dying inside. Don’t do this to her!" she screams, and then there is a struggle on the other end.

Noah speaks, "What the fuck, Damian, you kidnapped her, really? She's like a sister to me, and I really don't want to start a fucking war with my friend! And how in the fuck did you find her?"

"Relax, I found her because you suck, and after a lot of begging and her friends backing me up, she agreed to come home. I only called because I thought you'd like to see her once we settle into our new house on Elm Street. I won't hurt her again; I can't breathe without her. Trust me, I tried. I'm doing everything to ensure she decides to stay, even signing legal paperwork stating I won't marry our daughter off for any alliance. Oh, and I guess I can thank you for her being such good shot, dick head. She killed Mattia last night."

He signs with relief, then chuckles. "More like you found her by luck, and too fucking right I taught her. I never did trust that cunt, and I really don't want to shoot you. You’re kind of growing on me. Text me when to come round. Talk soon." He chuckles again, then hangs up, and I shake my head before heading back inside.

When I walk in and look toward the last place I saw my wife, I see red. A guy is trying to get her attention. Yep, hypocritical, I know. I learned my fucking lesson. Why do you think I bought a brand fucking new Victorian-style home—the kind she's always wanted?

I head over, and her friends and pseudo-mother all smirk at me.

Assholes, the lot of them.

I come right up behind my wife and wrap my right arm around her waist. The guy looks me up and down, which is hilarious, considering I'm double his size in muscle and a foot taller than him.

"Dude, can we help you? Mind letting go of my girl here? You know, we were just about to head out to get to know each other better," he says it with a sneer, and I hear Sofia snort.

She leans back against me, which the guy doesn't miss.

I reply, "You mean with my wife? The mother of my child? This woman?" I raise my brow. The guy pales when I make a show of moving my jacket a little, and he sees my gun. He starts to stutter, looking between me and Sofia. He mumbles an “I'm sorry”, then runs like his ass is on fire.

Everyone laughs while Sofia shakes her head, knowing I probably pissed her off with my possessiveness.

I quickly lean down and whisper, "Fucking wimp. I'm pretty sure I saw shit running down his leg."

She bursts out in laughter, and I kiss her head, smiling.

Not removing my arm, we spend a good two hours with her friends. Adam and Bruce try their hardest to get me to join them for a threesome while my wife tries holding herself up from laughter as they beg and I say no—repeatedly. Fucking wench left me hanging with them. I just smirk and shake my head at her. I deserve the punishments she keeps bringing, and I guarantee there will be more.

After a very tearful goodbye, I drive her and April home. They're having a girls' night, which I'm not allowed to attend. I get it; she's leaving her friends, the people she sees as family, who have been there for her when I failed. So I don't complain, especially when I was with them all day. I drop them off, pay the elderly babysitter Sofia sometimes uses, and tell Sofia I'll pick her and Mila up tomorrow, and give her a quick peck before she can decline.

I quickly message my dad, asking him to get everyone together, and head back to the hotel. When I get to the penthouse at 11 PM, they're all waiting for me, anticipation and concern written in their faces, especially her parents' eyes. I look at each person, knowing what I'm about to say will hurt them. Unfortunately, I'm not the only one who broke her; she doesn't trust them, and they have to deal until with the consequences until she's ready for the next step.

"I need you all to pack your bags and return to New York tonight. I need the plane back here for tomorrow morning. Sofia agreed to a two-month trial period, so I'm bringing my girls home. She gave me only two months to prove to her that I have changed, and I won't let her down." I look at my brother, skipping the parents' gazes, knowing they are probably hurt and angry. But this isn't about them, it's about Sofia and Mila, and them being comfortable and safe. "I need your help with their stuff." My brother nods, and I walk over to my mother, who has tears in her eyes. She's cried so much this week that it hurts my heart. None of this is her fault. Her only part in all this was she just didn't say anything to Sofia.

I give her a kiss on her cheek and whisper, "Give her time. She loves you so much, and Mila knows all about you. You're her babushka. Sofia needs to know she can trust us with Mila, then you can get to know your granddaughter. In the meantime, I'll try and convince her to let you see them both, okay?"

She nods as a few tears slip through, and I give my dad a head nod. He looks upset but knows Sofia needs time, so he puts his arm around my mother, and then leads her to their room to pack.

I can hear Victoria's sobs, and I feel a little bad for her. I walk past Stefano and give him a slap on the back, but before I can get to my room, he states, "I want to talk to my daughter tomorrow. I understand her reasoning about Mila, but I need to talk to her."

I nod, then continue to my room to shower and sleep. I know he wants to hash things out, but Sofia needs to be ready.

After I've finished my nightly routine, I climb into bed, thinking of my girl, and close my eyes with a smile.

I have a busy day tomorrow. I’m bringing my family home. Hopefully, they will want to stay.