I turned my face away from his. The candles burning in the hallway blurred with my tears, and so did the person standing at the end of it.
It was almost impossible to talk, but I cleared my throat. As best as I could, I said, “I traded my life for the safety of my heart. That’s what I’ve done, Padrino.”
Chapter16
Saverio
Midweek.
Our routine stayed the same. I took her to practice, waited the entire day out, and then back to the estate outside of Paris. The next day the man Guido chose to replace me would be riding along. Shadowing me to get a feel for the security measures I put into place.
We hadn't said one word to each other since that evening in her grandfather's office.
It was better that way. Or I might say something I'd regret.
The woman had the fucking audacity to use the word treachery in regard to me, when she was the most treacherous of all.
My hands squeezed the wheel a little tighter. She sighed, looking out the window, forever fucking turning the ring on her right hand.
Like she was spinning fate, hoping it would land where it should.
Rocco told me that even though Ascari made it known that he wanted my ring off her finger, she had refused. It would stay or no deal.
Devils were definitely in the fucking details of that arrangement. An arrangement that wouldn't see the light of day. He'd be dead before he walked down the aisle, and probably so would I.
I would be declaring war on the Fausti family.
“Saverio.”
She wasn't looking at me, but out the window still.
“I deserve your silence and so much more,” she whispered. “But I...I have to say this.”
She was probably taking her grandfather's advice. The same advice he’d given me the day after she doomed us both.
Say what needs to be said. That will be the end.
“Ti amo cuore mio.La mia vita.” Her hands came to her chest, almost pressing against it as if her heart was going to fall out. “Ti amo tanto. Più di quanto tu possa mai sapere.”
The words sliced into me and then melted to acid beneath my skin. Too far for me to stop the destruction. It was the first time she'd ever said those words to me. She loved me, her heart, her life. She loved me more than I’d ever know. And she was saying them as goodbye.
If she had her way, she'd be put into the ground with that ring on her right hand. A symbol of what we shared and what we preserved, never to be bruised or lost.
Fuck that. My old man always said, “Scars on skin mean living. Blood on knuckles mean living. Dirt on white clothes mean living. Living means taking chances, even if we get soiled up in the process.”
Life meant getting dirty. Getting scars. That was living. We’d wear this love out until it had no breath left, then we’d take it with us when we left this world. Used up and devastated, it would be the most beautiful thing we had in life. Something ours and ours alone.
All this shit we were going through would one day be a scar. A scar that we would look back on and reminisce about. When I said yes to Mia Bellarosa Fausti, I said yes to life and everything that came with it. She was mine in good times and in bad. Nothing came before this love. Nothing came beforeus. Not her. Not me. Not fear. Not anger. Not even the beautiful years we’d share.
Us.
Wecame first.
She was putting herself first. Her fears.
My sister said she was going to persuade Mia to change her mind by putting on a marathon of romantic movies that didn't have happy endings. Evelina’s intentions were good, but she didn't know Mia as well as I did. No one did. Movies like that would only serve to make her martyrdom that much more honorable.
Having courage to do this together, to do the right thing—that was honorable. Her fears might have been well founded, but it was no excuse for letting it rule us.
