39. Blake

CHAPTER 39

Blake

“ S ir, are you saying that you’d like to let the charge go through?” The credit card representative sounds shocked. “It’s thirteen and a half million dollars.”

“I heard you the first time. Now, listen to me. Let. The. Charge. Go. Through. My wife is clearly revenge spending her way through Italy, so keep the card active and approve all of her purchases.”

“Yes, sir.”

I hang up, annoyed at being practically harassed by the card company with how many times they’ve called over the past two weeks. Everything Gin’s purchased so far has been pretty predictable: Clothing, shoes, purses, luxury hotel rooms, dinner at some of the best restaurants in the region.

However, a house? That’s a new one.

I pull up her location on my phone. As long as she has her luggage with her, I always know where she is. Right now she’s outside of Positano, south of Naples, right on the coast. Apparently my magpie found something that sparkles.

I can’t wait to see her again. I’ve been giving her space to do as she pleases—to hate me—while I’ve been stuck in New York dealing with my step-monster’s arrest. I need to see this through to the end before I can go after my wife. If that’s even what she wants, for me to chase after her.

I haven’t heard from her, so I’m guessing I’m supposed to make the first move. Soon, magpie, soon .

Oz came clean about everything, confessing in detail how he and Yve murdered my father and took control of the Baron family estate. They’ve forged, blackmailed, and bribed their way to where they were, before I collapsed their empire. My strike opened the floodgates. The number of people who’ve surfaced to complain and inform on Yve and Oz is astounding.

If only all of this business wasn’t taking so long. I originally planned to let Gin have her space for a couple of weeks, but I’m not going to be free of this for at least another week or two. Which might be fine. Either I’ll chase after her, or she’ll come back when she’s done fuming. Won’t she?

Why are women so difficult to figure out? I wish I could read her mind. That would be helpful. But alas, I cannot.

The following week, the card company doesn’t bother me at all, but I regularly check my account to see that my wife is spending her way through Naples, Rome, and Florence with her cousin. In addition to the tracking device in her luggage, I also have eyes on the ground just in case she’s ever in trouble. That’s how I know she’s traveling with Elena, and that Elena also has a tail courtesy of her second cousin Maximo Pontrelli. He's apparently a man who takes his responsibilities seriously.

With Yve’s downfall, there’s been upheaval at Titan Enterprises that I’ve been dealing with, in addition to fast tracking Yve’s case. Liam has smoothly stepped into his board position and taken the company’s reins. He’s a natural born leader. I’m so proud of him.

My phone rings. “Baron, here.”

“Mr. Baron, it’s time, Yve Baron has taken a deal and plead guilty.”

Resounding relief sweeps through me and I let out a whoosh of breath. Finally. The number of palms I’ve had to line, with an astounding amount of money, to make this go through smoothly and quickly is now paying off.

“I’ll be there in an hour.” Hanging up, I meet my driver out front and we head to the courthouse. It’s time to finish this and let justice be served.

I could have tortured and killed Yve myself, but for years I’ve been daydreaming of her spending the rest of her life in prison. Death seems too quick and merciful for a viper like her, I wanted a longer sentence, for her to suffer for years instead of days.

After I go through security, I’m escorted to a small room on the second floor where Yve waits. I made sure the judge refused to set bail so she’s been stewing in a jail cell for almost a month. Stripped of her usual superficial glamour, she appears older and frailer than her forty-five years of age. I can hardly believe almost twenty years of battling with this woman is finally coming to an end.

“Don’t look so smug,” she snaps as I sit down opposite of her.

“I can’t help it,” I drawl.

Yve glowers, but she’s lost some of her spark. If she can’t handle a few weeks in jail, prison will be hell on earth for her. Since she’s relatively young, she’ll be incarcerated for a very, very long time.

She took the deal I offered, signing everything over to me, under threat of me exposing even more of her crimes. She wants a reduced prison sentence–compared to what it could be–and I want to get to my wife, it’s a win-win.

Our lawyers get straight to it, presenting me with the power of attorney paperwork that puts the entirety of the Baron estate under my control. Yve signs it all as quickly as she can, while glaring daggers at me. My signature follows hers and the deal is done.

Now she gets to serve out her sentence, and I get what should have always been mine.

“Where are my mother’s things?” I ask her. “Where did you hide them?”

She settles back in her chair and crosses her arms. “That’s the one thing that you can’t force me to give up. Now that I’m in here, you can’t touch me, not really. So you can kiss your mother’s things goodbye because I’ll never tell you where they are.”

My jaw works. She’s right, I can’t torture the information out of her now that she’s in custody. I should have thought about that before. Damnit . It’s too late now.

“I’ll find it.” I stand up, ready to leave and never see her conniving face again. “I’m taking possession of your charm bracelet, I’m sure there’s a clue on there.”

“Twenty-five years is going to pass in the blink of an eye. When I’m out early on good behavior, I’m going to kill you, your brother, and your wife. Mark my words.”

“I wouldn’t be making threats in your position, unless you want another few years added to your sentence.”

She clamps her mouth shut, and I exit the room. Thank fuck that’s over. With her and Oz locked away, I’m free to go get my wife.

M y private jet takes me to Parma, Italy. It seems Gin and Elena have returned to the city, done with their adventure. I hope my wife is ready to come back to New York with me. I have so much to say to her about us, and about our future. A month apart has given me a lot of time to think and there’s no way in hell I’m letting Ginevra slip through my fingers. I might be falling in love with my fake wife. Though nothing about us is fake anymore.

She’s my wife, for as long as we both shall live. I’m a fool for not realizing it sooner.

I knock on a colorful front door in a crowded neighborhood, double-checking that I have Elena’s address right.

The door opens a crack, Elena’s shy face coming into view. “May I help you?”

“It’s me, Blake Baron. Gin’s husband. Is she here?” I know damn well she’s here because of the location pinging on my phone.

Instead of inviting me in, Elena slips out and closes the door behind her. “She left. Her plane took off about an hour ago.”

“What do you mean? I know for a fact her suitcases are inside.”

She nods. “They are… She took a carry on and caught a flight back to New York. She didn’t take much because she’s not planning to stay there for long. It’s a quick trip to say goodbye to her family and friends.”

My pulse spikes and my thoughts race. To say goodbye? Without thinking, I blurt, “I don’t understand.”

Elena sighs, like I’m thick in the head. “She’s moving here, to Italy. Permanently.”

“Are you serious?”

“Yes. She even bought a house. Didn’t you know that?”

I did, but I thought it was just a stunt she was pulling. How could I have totally misjudged that, her, everything?

She glances up and down the street, then at me. “I know what happened between you two, about the blackmail and everything. If you care about her at all, you’ll let her go. She’s so sweet and full of life. She’s too good for a horrible man like you, Mr. Baron. Let her out of your twisted arrangement. She doesn’t deserve to be forced to be with you.”

Her words twist their way into my heart like corkscrews. What did Gin tell Elena about me? Does she really think I’m horrible? Perhaps I’m being selfish by coming after her and insisting we stay together. I promised myself I’d do better by her, but obviously I’m failing.

Then I distinctly recall Gin calling me terrible, horrible, unfair . She hasn’t complained much recently, but perhaps she’s simply resigned to her fate, to my demands.

What does my wife really want?

“Right...” I step away from her, in a kind of daze as I make it back to my jet and prepare to head home.

Elena’s right, Gin does deserve better. In truth, I’d forgotten about how I’d blackmailed Gin, that seems like forever ago. But it obviously hasn’t slipped her mind. Is she really only my wife because of the threats I’ve hung over her head all this time? What will she do if given an actual choice?

I rake my fingers through my hair, my gut wrenching. Fuck. I let this go too far without realizing it. I used her, with the intention of ending our marriage, of tossing her away when I no longer needed her. What kind of fucking monster does something like that?

Me . I do. It’s all I’ve done my whole life, so why would Gin be any different? But she is. I actually care about her feelings, her happiness. For the first time in my life I want to consider another person’s perspective and emotions. I want to put them above my own. Is that love? Is that what it means to love someone?

Up to this point, I’ve treated her no better than any of the other men who’ve used and abused her for their own pleasure, for their own gain.

I’m actually worse than them because I did what they couldn’t do—I trapped her. Snared her into a legally binding contract after giving her no choice. Fuck, I really am a terrible person.

How did this get so out of hand? Was it the amount of time we spent together after I moved her into my house? I’m sure the massage, her cooking for me, and all the other sweet, thoughtful gestures blurred the lines. By the time we arrived in the West Indies our business deal had completely fizzled—more like it had been obliterated by a tsunami. And our wedding… that was the single most real experience I’ve ever had with another person.

Since then, I kept repeating the same bullshit to her about our arrangement and how we’ll divorce in a year. Because those things were safe to say. What wasn’t safe to speak aloud were things like… I want you. I love you .

My body told her, but my lips never did. I was too much of a coward.

What do I do to fix this? How do I make her see that she’s not tied to me unless she wants to be?

When the jet finally takes off, I’m still racking my brain for a solution. This shouldn’t be so difficult. Often the easiest solution is the best option.

I know. I’ll take Elena’s advice and set her free. I’ll give her a choice. I’ll divorce her.

Then she can make up her own mind about whether or not she wants to be together. It will be a new start. A clean slate.

Pulling out my laptop, I set my thoughts down in an email. This is the most selfless thing I’ve ever done in my life. I’m setting her wishes above my own. Giving her a choice when all I really want to do is sweep her into my arms, kiss her breathless, and never let her go again. In fact, what I’m about to do goes against every fiber of my being, every impulse I have. But Gin deserves a better version of me than the one she’s experienced so far.

This is it. This is selfless, caring Blake Baron. A new me.

He’s a fucking mess, but he better know what he’s doing. If he fucks this up for me, I’ll kill him.