Chapter 39

39

Zara

“ Y ou look even more beautiful, sun-kissed and relaxed.”

Turning toward his voice, I can’t contain my surprise. “Creed?” Wearing a crisp black suit with a breathtaking view of Assisi behind him, he looks like death going on a relaxing vacation. And god, I’ve missed him. “Wh-what are you doing here?” I scramble off the lounge chair and wrap a towel around my wet one-piece bathing suit.

“Last I checked, I own this property, even if this is the first time I’ve stepped foot on it,” he says as he glances around at the view, sunglasses covering his face. He looks pleased with the impulse purchase he made for at least three million, like a normal person grabbing a Snickers in the grocery store checkout line.

“How have you been?” he asks when he faces me again. I can’t see his blue eyes behind the shades, but he must be checking me over, since he says, “You look well, and healing nicely. ”

Again, with the compliments while noticing Izaiah’s name is still written in my flesh, it throws me off-guard. I am healing, at least superficially. When I shower and undress, I refrain from looking in the mirror at the angry, red marks that have run together in a jumble.

“I’m good. Fine. How…how have you been?”

“Good? Fine?” he repeats. His jaw ticks in annoyance. “That’s all you have to say?”

“It’s been great spending weeks with Oriana,” I admit. “But only while I look for a job. In fact, we don’t need this place. It’s too much. You could at least sell or rent out the other house, since the girls and I are all fine living in the stables.”

Ripping off his sunglasses, Creed glares down at me with blue eyes I’ve dreamed of every night. A glint of the sun draws my attention to the wedding band he’s still wearing for some reason, even though he signed and mailed me divorce papers. “You’re living in the fucking stables?”

“What? Oh. That’s just what some of the locals told us it used to be before all the renovations.” Shaking my head because we’ve gotten off topic, I tell him, “Look, Creed, what I’m trying to say is that we appreciate your... hospitality, but we’ll be moving out as soon as I convince someone to give me a job. I worked full time as a manager for a discount store for years. I’m more than happy to do anything in town if I could just get a damn interview.” I continue to babble, “Is employment handled differently here or something? Because the people I talk to in Assisi ignore me like they don’t want to acknowledge me. And if they speak English, they won’t say a word to me. Not that I can blame them. I’m a trashy American with no skills other than ringing up or stocking cheap groceries.”

“You think people won’t speak to you or give you a job because you’re a trashy American?”

“Yes. ”

“No, micetta mia . They won’t speak to you about a job because I put out the word to all the businesses not to hire you.”

“Why in the world would you do that? And stop calling me your pussy . It’s incredibly offensive.” The truth is, I can’t bear to hear the Italian phrase because it breaks my heart, knowing I’m no longer his anything.

“Why do you think I did it, Zara?” He ignores my complaint about the term of endearment.

“So I’ll never be free of you? I’ll just be trapped here for you to show up and taunt me? One second, you’ll be right in front of my face, making me want you, and then missing you when you up and leave days later, going weeks or months without a word from you when you’re back in New York!”

“No, Zara. I told them not to hire you because you deserve a break, to get to know your daughter and spend the days and nights with her. I did it because I love you, and I want you to be happy, to have everything you always deserved.”

“You sent me away!” I shout, maybe a little too quickly, since it takes that long for the fact that he said he loved me to register in my mind. He’s said it before, but when he told me I had to leave the country.

“You know why I did that too. It wasn’t because I don’t care about you. I sent you and Oriana away to keep you safe from me, my enemies, and my lifestyle.”

“And I hate you for it, for not asking me what I wanted or listening to me when I told you not to throw us away.”

“I didn’t throw you away.”

“That’s what it felt like.” I wave my hands toward the immaculate house thanks to the half-dozen servants who work here. “None of this or the fancy camera you sent with divorce papers can make up for that feeling either.”

“I’m sorry,” he says, his teeth grinding together as if those are his least favorite words. “I should’ve asked you what you wanted before sending you here. I still think it was the right decision to keep you safe. And that’s another reason I didn’t want you to work anywhere, telling people who you were, creating a trail of paper for the Rovinas or the NYPD to find you in case any bodies were to show up on the shores of the Hamptons.”

“Oh,” I mutter, since I didn’t consider that angle. I assumed by living in a small town so far from New York, nobody would find us here. One of the Rovinas could potentially find out about Oriana and try to get custody. Or Izaiah could wash up or evidence like videos or DNA could be traced to me.

“And I came to see you today to finally ask you what you want.”

I cross my arms over my chest to hold my towel in place. “Well, this isn’t it. As nice of a vacation as it’s been, it’s beautiful but... empty.”

“So, you want to return to New York?”

“Yes. Even though I know I shouldn’t. I can’t .”

“What if I told you that I would do everything in my power to keep you and Oriana safe from the violence of my world?”

“I’d say you’re full of shit.”

“I’m not. I wouldn’t be here, giving you the option to come back with me, if I didn’t think it would work.”

“How?”

“I moved a dozen of my soldiers to provide security around the penthouse and whenever you and Oriana go out. I’ve purchased bulletproof vehicles, which should arrive soon.”

“Wow. That doesn’t sound cheap.”

“I’m also working on pinning Izaiah’s murder on a drug dealer to take that heat off us permanently. There won’t ever be a trial because the dealer will never be caught.”

“What if he is caught, though?”

“He won’t be. The guy recently ran off to Thailand, a few days after Izaiah was killed, and Emilio was tormenting all the dealers to question them. It turns out he was much safer in New York, since he got beaten to death in Phuket.”

“You had a drug dealer beaten to death in a city called Poo-Cat?”

“No.” Creed’s lips nearly curve into a smile. “I just got lucky that someone else conveniently beat him to death for us.”

“Sounds like you’ve thought of everything.”

“I’ve tried to. I needed to make sure everything was in place before you could return with me. If that’s what you want.”

“I do. You know I do. But Oriana...”

“I’ll spend whatever it takes to keep you two safe. I know I can’t protect you and her from the entire world, but I can protect you from mine or die trying.”

“It must be nice to be so rich and powerful that you can just snap your fingers and get whatever you want.”

“I can’t snap my fingers and get you, Zara, and you’re the only thing I actually want in my life. Fuck the rest of it. Without you…I’ve been a miserable bastard since you left on that damn boat.”

“You didn’t even tell me goodbye,” I whisper while trying to wrap my head around everything he’s said when I still can’t believe he’s even here. “Do you know how much that hurt? To think that you cared so little for me?”

“I was a gigantic pussy. Is that what you want to hear? I should’ve said goodbye to you. I’ve regretted avoiding you that morning from the second I watched the boat pull away from the dock.”

“You watched us leave?”

“Yes. Stupid, right? To be so close and not have the balls to speak a word to you?”

“That is pretty stupid.” I smile, blinking at the most handsome man in the world through a blur of tears.

“So? What do you think?” Reaching into his pants pocket, he pulls out my wedding band, giant diamond ring, and a new, slightly smaller diamond. I thought I had lost my rings to Emilio. I should’ve known Creed would search his pockets when cleaning up the scene. “Am I worth the risk for you? For Oriana? I’ll understand if I’m not. I can visit you both here...”

I don’t let him say another word.

Throwing my arms around his neck, I slam my lips against his and kiss him the way I’ve wanted to since the night he kicked me out of his bed.

“Is that a yes?” he asks when his lips eventually move down to kiss my neck. His fist presses against my back with the rings inside.

“Yes.”

“I have another question for you? Have you signed the divorce papers?”

“No.” I silence any more questions by covering his mouth with mine again because I haven’t had enough of his kisses yet.

I still find it hard to believe that Creed Ferraro wants to be with me.

In some ways, it feels like a gift for all the shit I had to endure over the past seven years, being practically sold to a mobster by my parents, being used, abused, and manipulated by two awful men. Having a child with a man I hated, then having her taken away from me so cruelly.

Spending my life with both my daughter and my ruthless husband seems too good to be true.

“I’m not him.” Creed pulls away and gently brushes one of my loose curls behind my ears. “If you decide to come back and be with me, I won’t ever force you to stay. Times will be hard. I’ll be going away for more than three years, and I know it’s asking a lot for you to stay with me through all that. I don’t want you to be with me because you have to, though. If I’m who you want, then you get to make the choice to be with me every single day, without any coercion or manipulation. ”

“If you mean that, then I’ll need my independence — a job to earn my own money.”

“Okay.”

“Okay?”

“I want you to be free to do what you want, what you love. And I hope you and Oriana will live with me. I want to be a father to her if you’ll let me. Maybe even give her a brother or sister…”

“Whoa. Let’s just take it one day at a time,” I warn him with a smile I can’t hide. I like the idea of him being a father and having his children way too much.

“One day at a time,” Creed agrees with a devious grin I know means he won’t make it easy to refuse him anything.