I can’t be what you need, and you deserve a strong queen.
Sucking in a fortifying breath, I switch off my phone, and after pulling the door shut, I start the engine and drive to the realtor so I can pick up the keys to my apartment.
It doesn’t take long, and once I’m back in my car, I stare at the keys.
Next week, I’ll be living on my own. The thought makes me both scared and excited.
I start the car again and spend forty minutes in traffic before I pull into a parking spot that has the same number as my apartment. When I get out and walk toward the entrance, I look at the two-level apartment building that surrounds a landscaped courtyard with stone walkways and ivy climbing the brick. Set back from the main streets, it’s noticeably quieter, which is why I chose this place. It feels like a small pocket of calm in Manhattan.
This time, Alfio sticks to my heels, and when I near my place on the second floor, I unlock the front door and wait for him to check every room.
I look at the iron banister and admire the beauty below. There’s a medium-sized fountain in the heart of the courtyard, its water trickling gently.
“It’s clear,” Alfio says, drawing my attention.
“Thank you,” I reply softly before entering the apartment. I shut the door behind me and take in the empty living room andkitchen. It has an open plan design and a lot of natural light spills in through the windows.
It smells weird in here.
Digging my bottle of perfume out of my handbag, I begin to spray it in every room until it smells like me.
The two spacious bedrooms share a bathroom, and as I slowly walk through my new home, I think about different ways to decorate the space.
Stopping in the living room, I sit down on the baywindow seat that’s situated between two empty bookshelves.
I lean back against the side of one shelf, and pulling up my legs, I wrap my arms around my shins.
When I close my eyes, a calmness trickles through me, and letting out a deep breath, tension eases from my muscles.
Dr. Kahn, my psychiatrist, warned me not to cut myself off from all my loved ones. I lied and told her I wouldn’t.
It will be better for Mom and Dad. I hate how they worry about me.
I’ll do it slowly so no one notices.
Chapter 6
Christiano
As I walk into the warehouse at the crack of dawn, my thoughts are inundated with what happened at the wedding.
I tried to call Sienna several times, but she wouldn’t answer or return any of my messages. I gave up last night and contacted Aunt Samantha, who said there’s nothing to worry about and that Sienna ate something bad, but she’s doing better.
Just like when Sienna broke off things with me, I once again get the feeling Aunt Samantha and Sienna are hiding something very important from me.
Glancing at Nico, I order, “Have Ciro watch Sienna. I want him to update me on her movements every day, and he’s not to tell anyone. It stays between the three of us.”
“Okay.”
While Nico makes the call to Ciro, I walk toward the crates that Georgi delivered late last night. Trusting him not to fuck me over, I don’t even bother checking whether the order is correct. I grab a submachine gun and load a magazine into it.
Hugo, who’s my best enforcer, took his team and rounded up fourteen Irish soldiers over the past few days.
The fuckers are standing in a group at the other end of the warehouse, and as I stalk toward them, there’s only the constant rage in my chest.
After Sienna broke up with me, I used to get a kick out of killing, but these days it barely eases my anger.
Every time Sienna rejects me, it pushes me closer to the edge. The endless worry, frustration, and longing for her are the only other things I feel.
