Chapter Twenty-Six

I spent the night at the Trevisan house. It reminded me a little of Greta’s sanctuary, but Maximus’ family kept only dogs, mostly Pittbulls, Staffordshire Terrier, Bulldogs and Rottweiler. As per Maximus’ request I didn’t join in the torture, neither did his father or brother. Romero and Maximus had taken the Russians to one of the kennels at the end of the premises, but the screams carried all the way up to the porch where I was sitting with Primo and Growl. The dogs in their enclosures and houses howled and barked.

“Sounds as if they want to join in,” I said.

Only five dogs lived in the house with the family. The rest wasn’t socialized enough or too dangerous.

“Maximus knows better than to use the dogs for torture. They’ve tasted enough blood in their lives.” Cara, Growl’s wife, stepped out onto the porch, wrapped in a wool blanket. Her gaze sought the distance as if she was trying to see what was happening.

Growl pushed to his feet and walked over to her. He touched her shoulder. “You should go back in. You shouldn’t hear this.”

“I hear it inside too.”

“But inside you won’t see Maximus once he’s done. I don’t think you want to see him like that,” Growl said.

“Ryan, I don’t care if he’s covered in blood. I’ll be there for my son when he needs me.”

Growl gave a nod and led Cara over to one of the cozy rattan chairs.

Maximus didn’t return until the early morning hours. I patted his shoulder as he stalked into the house to go to bed. Romero was close behind him. Neither was in the mood to talk, no surprise there. Growl, Primo and I went to the kennel and cleaned up the mess that was left.

After a late breakfast, Maximus and I headed to the Famiglia gym to let off some steam. Maximus didn’t want to talk about last night’s events so I didn’t push him. After a heated training session, we went into the changing rooms, but I could tell something was bothering Maximus.

He sank down on the bench across from mine. For a while he watched me removing the tapes from my wrists before he leaned forward, arms on his thighs. “What the fuck is going on?”

I motioned at the two men who were hurriedly getting dressed. They grabbed their stuff with a nod and gave us privacy. When the door fell shut, silence settled around me and Maximus. I wasn’t sure how to say what I’d decided. It was absolute madness. I trusted Maximus with my life, and through his marriage with Sara we were practically family. “I know you’ve been taking days off for months now. I didn’t ask questions but I can’t help but wonder where the fuck you’re going. It took you hours to get to Newark yesterday. You weren’t around the corner.”

I stared down at my boxing shoes. “I came back as fast as I could.”

“I know, and I’m not here to play the guilt card. You have a fucking life. That’s okay. I just want you to know that you can trust me. You helped me after the shitshow with Sara. Fuck, you’re still there whenever I need you, so why the fuck are you keeping a secret from me?”

I smiled bitterly. “Because I’m betraying the Famiglia.”

Maximus leaned back slowly, his nostrils flaring, eyes full of disbelief. “Never. You’d die—” He searched my eyes. I wasn’t sure what he was trying to see. Then he shook his head and let out a laugh. “I hope I’m wrong with this, so please tell me you’re not seeing Greta Falcone behind everyone’s back.”

His voice had been so quiet if I hadn’t known what he’d say I wouldn’t have heard him. I looked at him, tired of lying to him.

“Amo.” Maximus shoved to his feet, running a hand over his head. He stared at me, then shook his head again. “What the fuck is wrong with you? We’re at war and you go fucking the enemy’s daughter.” He tilted his head and a hopeful smile pulled at his lips. “Or is this a devious plan to break the Camorra?”

I really wish that were the case. “No devious plan. And I’m not fucking Greta and I won’t until she’s officially mine. I won’t dishonor her.”

Maximus plopped down on the bench, utter shock on his face. “I hope this is a joke.”

I only stared at him. I knew how ludicrous it sounded.

“Have you decided if you’re going to tell my father about my betrayal? You’re his Enforcer.”

Maximus jumped to his feet and shoved my shoulders hard, catching me completely off guard. The bench tipped backwards because of my weight and I landed on my back with a groan. I didn’t bother getting up, only smiled wryly at my best friend. “I suppose that’s a yes?”

“Fuck you, you moron,” Maximus growled. “I’m going to be your Enforcer longer than I’ll be your father’s Enforcer. I won’t ever reveal your secrets, no matter how fucked up they are. I’ll follow you as my future Capo, but where the hell will you lead me and the Famiglia?”

“To peace with the Camorra.”

“No way. Not after the shitshow at your wedding. Matteo won’t agree after what happened to Isabella and Gianna. Not to mention that the Falcones are definitely holding a major grudge for how we tricked them. Peace has never been farther away.”

“I’m going to divorce Cressida and ask for Greta’s hand. I can’t keep living like this. I want Greta by my side. I’ll stop at nothing, absolutely nothing to make her mine this time.”

Maximus held out his hand and after I had accepted it, he pulled me to my feet. He gripped my forearm. “And you think she’s going to say yes this time?”

“I do.” What Greta and I had, had grown even more and I knew she regretted her past choice. Together she and I would find a way and bring peace back between the Camorra and Famiglia. There was no other option. Greta would break if she came to New York with me without her family’s approval while there was still war. “I’m going to ask her this weekend.”

“Don’t tell me where you’re meeting her. The less I know the better. Your father’s going to have me skinned if he finds out I know about this. Fuck, man.”

I patted his shoulder. “He’d have to skin me first. He’ll come around eventually.”

Maximus gave me a doubtful look.

Dad was definitely a hard nut to crack. But first I had to face a person who’d take the news even worse. “I’m heading to Cressida tonight to tell her.”

Maximus lips parted. “You have to talk to your father first.”

“I won’t ask for his permission. I made my decision and I’ll go through with it no matter what he says.” I was done asking. I would take what I wanted, something I should have done a long time ago. I wouldn’t spend the rest of my life with Cressida. She made me miserable and I knew she wasn’t happy with me either. She couldn’t possibly be happy unless human emotions didn’t matter to her at all.

Maximus blew out a long breath. The concern was clear on his face. “She won’t go quietly, Amo. Cressida has a vicious streak. This won’t be a pleasant Christmas. She’ll try to take you down with her.”

“I don’t care. This farce of a marriage ends tonight.”

When I set foot into Cressida’s townhouse—it had always felt like hers, not mine—, I knew today’s conversation wouldn’t go over well.

Cressida sat in the living room with a glass of champagne in her hand and a dark-haired Asian woman by her feet who was painting her nails.

“I’m busy,” she said when she spotted me and took another sip of her drink.

“Leave,” I told the woman. She shoved to her feet without hesitation and gathered her stuff. I handed her a one hundred dollar note as she rushed past me and she took it with a muttered thanks before she left the room.

“You’re not done!” Cressida shrieked but the woman grabbed her coat in the lobby and a moment later the front door opened and closed. My word was the one that counted, not Cressida’s. She glared at me. “What am I supposed to do about my nails now?”

“Paint them yourself?”

Her eyes widened as if she couldn’t believe the audacity. “A woman of my position shouldn’t have to do her nails.”

“My mother does her own toe nails so I can’t really see why you can’t. She’s a Capo’s wife. You’re not.”

“Your mother’s…” She trailed off, obviously thinking better than to insult my mother in front of me. She gave me a sugary smile. “You’re as good as Capo. Your father can’t do it forever.” She took another sip of her champagne. She was probably hoping for his early death just so she could finally rise up to ultimate glory.

She inched one shoulder up in a careless shrug. “I suppose now that you’re here we might as well spend some quality time together.”

I looked around the room with its too plush sofa in an ugly lilac, the frilly cushions with the flower pattern. The white high gloss wood furniture with golden brackets topped by the Versace logo. This place was as foreign to me as it had been the first time I’d set foot inside of it. “When did we ever spend quality time together, Cressida?”

Every single of our encounters had been filled with arguments, guilt trips, punishing silence or angry sex.

She didn’t say anything, only regarded her feet critically, as if their lack of nail polish was more important than the dismal state of our marriage.

“This marriage has been doomed from the moment you forced me into it. We should have never gotten married.”

Cressida finally raised her gaze from her nails and smiled triumphantly. “But we are.”

I stared into her eyes, feeling absolutely nothing. I wasn’t even sure if they were blue or green or gray. I’d never looked into them long enough to determine their exact color.

I didn’t hate her, definitely didn’t like or even love her. She was completely inconsequential for me. “That’s what I wanted to talk to you about.”

Confusion then incredulity flashed across her face. “What are you saying?”

“We’re getting a divorce.”

She froze, then she laughed haughtily. “You can’t divorce me, then you won’t become Capo.”

My expression became harder. “I’ll become Capo.”

She stumbled to her feet. “The Traditionalists won’t accept you! They’ll side with my father. You’re going to be nothing without me!”

“They can accept me or feel my wrath.”

“You won’t divorce me,” she whispered, shaking her head. “You can’t. There are rules, traditions. You took my innocence out of wedlock and there are consequences for such an act.”

I stalked toward her. “Stop playing the victim. You and I had very enjoyable, consensual sex. I never said anything about marrying you, never pretended to even like you. You decided to have sex with me out of wedlock, so you, too, have to accept the consequences. So far only I had to pay the price, now it’s your turn. And if I see it right, you’re still not going to pay the price because nobody will know we had sex before we married.”

“I’ll have to live in shame because you divorced me!”

“You’ll get about fifty million dollars of compensation for less than two years of marriage. That’s a good deal if you ask me, especially when I consider the 10 million dollars you already spent in the meantime.”

I could see her mind working behind her eyes and suddenly the anger dropped from her face and her expression became pitiful, her lower lip trembling. “Amo,” she simpered, running her palms over my chest. She looked up at me through her lashes. “You can’t do this to me. I’m your wife.”

She missed the point but I tried to squeeze any droplet of kindness that I possessed out of my heart and said, “Listen, Cressida, you can’t tell me you’re happy in our marriage. You don’t even like me much. Maybe you thought you did when we married but don’t tell me you still do. We don’t have anything to talk about. Do you want to keep living a miserable life?”

Last Christmas had been the worst of my life. Celebrating with the Antonacis had been awkward and stiff. No warmth, no sense of family. Even Mom’s holiday spirit hadn’t been enough to improve the situation. I was relieved that I wouldn’t have to spend another Christmas with Cressida and her parents.

“We don’t even have to see each other anymore. You can stay in your apartment the entire time if that’s what you want. You can keep sleeping with other women, and I’ll look for a constant lover. We’ll live separate lives. One day we can use insemination to get me pregnant.”

“And then what? Once children are there, we can hardly keep living in different households. Children deserve a family and parents that don’t despise each other.”

She let out a laugh. “Why? My parents don’t like each other and it worked.”

And look how it shaped you…

“They can go to boarding schools, then they won’t see us together often.”

I shook my head. “I’m not going to send my children away or let them be born into a miserable marriage.”

Cressida huffed and stalked away, grabbing the champagne bottle. She drank straight from it, then hissed. “Don’t act as if you’d care about children or anyone. You’re not kind. And neither am I that’s why we’re a good fit.”

A match made in hell. “I’m not kind, you’re right. But if I have kids, I want them in my life.”

She bared her teeth in condescension. “You think you’d be a good father? They’d hate you for cheating on their mother.”

“I won’t cheat on the mother of my children, but it won’t be you.” I didn’t say anything about her masseur. I was fairly sure she had an affair with him. There was no proof and she’d probably deny it. It was irrelevant anyway. I’d told her to seek a lover and she’d followed my advice.

Realization settled on her face. “There’s someone else.”

“I told you before.”

“There were several women you fucked, do you think I cared or remembered?”

I hadn’t been intimate with anyone but Greta since our first encounter on her farm. “There’s one woman.”

She let out a shrill laugh, her face turning red. “Is she the reason why you haven’t slept with me in forever?”

I didn’t say anything. I had a feeling discussing Greta with Cressida would only make me mad.

She clutched the champagne bottle in front of her chest. “You were faithful to your affair but not your wife?”

I pressed my lips together. Anything I said now would make things worse. I’d said everything I wanted. I wouldn’t waste my breath on more. She regarded me like a scientist a bug he was trying to dissect. “It’s the girl from the wedding, isn’t it? The Falcone girl. The way you looked at her… I thought I’d imagined it. I didn’t, did I?”

I didn’t say anything.

“Do you think you love her?” She laughed. “You aren’t capable of it.”

“Cressida, there’s nothing to say anymore. We’ll get divorced and both find happiness elsewhere. I won’t add more mistakes to my life because of a single mistake from my past. This ends now.”

She let out an enraged cry and threw the Champagne bottle my way. It exploded against the edge of the marble side table, throwing an expensive Tiffany lamp to the ground, which broke apart, and breaking the edge off the marble table.

I swallowed trying to rein in my own anger. I’d sworn myself I’d deal with this calmly. “You can keep this house. It’s always been yours. Once the divorce papers are signed, you’ll get the fifty millionsmillion.”

I turned on my heel and walked into the lobby. It wouldn’t do any good to prolong this conversation. If Cressida had some time to think about my offer, she’d see it was the best solution. She was an attractive woman. She’d find a new husband.

She staggered after me and reached for a crystal vase from another expensive sideboard in the lobby. “You think you can buy me off with lousy fifty million?”

“How about seventy million, will this make your obvious heartbreak more bearable?” I gritted out.

Her eyes widened and she threw the vase in my direction. It smashed before my feet. I had enough. I stalked toward her and backed her into the wall. “That’s enough. Eighty million. That’s my last offer and you better take it.”

Her eyes burned with loathing. “I hope you’ll die.”

I gave her a harsh smile. “Many have tried.” I stepped back and walked out. I knew this wasn’t over. Cressida would call her father right away and he’d try to gather the Traditionalist around himself to force me to reconsider my decision, which wasn’t going to happen. I would divorce Cressida and marry the woman I really loved. The woman I’d be faithful to for the rest of my life.

When I left the townhouse, I felt as if a huge weight had been lifted off my shoulders. I turned the music up as I steered my car toward my family’s home. Telling Cressida of my plans had been only the first step of many, the first of many difficult confrontations. Now I had to tell Dad, though maybe Antonaci was speaking to him right now.

The last and most difficult hurdle to overcome would be Remo Falcone.

I shook my head with a wry smile. I grabbed my phone and dialed Greta’s number. I’d never before called her but today I simply needed to hear her voice.

“Amo! Are you hurt?”

Hearing the concern in her voice and imagining the kindness in her eyes, I knew I’d made the right decision, a decision I’d never regret no matter what happened now. “No, I feel better than I have in a long time. I need to talk to you.”

“I need to talk to you too. If you hadn’t called, I would have asked you for a call. Amo, I can’t do it anymore.” My heart sank. Fuck, was she breaking things off? I would never accept that. Whatever was forcing her to make this decision—I would fucking smash it apart.

“I despise the secrecy. I know I told you I don’t mind being your dark secret but I do. I want us to be together all the time. I know we can’t but—"

“Greta, you aren’t a dark secret. You are fucking everything and I want everyone to know. I want everyone to know you’re mine. I don’t ever want there to be someone other than me.”

“There’s always only you.”

My heart swelled. “I told Cressida I want a divorce.”

Greta sucked in a sharp breath. “Really?”

“Really. I’m heading to my parents now. Once I’ve told them and handled the backlash, I’m going to book the next flight to Las Vegas and ask for your hand again. I hope this time your answer will be different.”

It would be the best Christmas present of all time.

“Amo.” Greta’s voice shook. “I’m scared I’m dreaming all of this.”

“If this were a dream we’d already be on our honeymoon and I’d be making you mine over and over again.”

Greta released a breath. “What if—”

“No matter what happens, we’ll be together. I’m going to face the consequences. Whatever happens will be worth it a thousand times over.”

“I talked to my mother. And I’ll tell my family as well.”

Greta had her own confrontations ahead of her.

“I should have told you before, but it never felt right, and maybe now isn’t the right time either because we’re on the phone but I simply need to tell you.” I took a deep breath because I’d never uttered those three words before. “I love you.”

“Oh Amo,” Greta whispered.

“Don’t cry.” I couldn’t stand the thought of Greta’s tears when I wasn’t there to hug her.

She let out a small laugh. “I won’t. I’m just happy. And I love you too.”

I grinned but the smile disappeared when I pulled up in front of my parents’ house. “I’m at my parents’. Tell me how your chat with your family goes. Soon we’ll be together and then I won’t ever leave your side.”

We hung up, and after a moment to compose myself, I got out of my car and headed for the front door. I didn’t get the chance to ring the bell. The door opened and Valerio stood before me. He gave me a wide-eyed stare and grimaced. “You have balls to come here now. Mom’s trying to talk Dad off the ledge.”

He grinned. “I’ve been practicing my Capo look in front of the mirror these last fifteen minutes. What do you think?” He gave me a stern look.

“You look constipated.”

He shrugged. “Dad won’t retire tomorrow so I’ll have a few years to practice.”

“Good luck.”

Valerio patted my shoulder. “You need luck more than me.”