“He’s my husband.” I levelled a cold look at Caspian. “Whatever I have to say, I can say in front of him.”
“Jesus Christ, Beatrice,” Caspian said, running a hand through his hair in frustration. “Are you actually standing by him now? Has he brainwashed you that thoroughly?”
“To hell with you all.” Arko glared at Caspian with leashed violence and rage, then turned to me. “Beatrice, this was a mistake.”
“No, it wasn’t!” I argued. “We need to talk about this. I know there’s bad blood. But I’m stuck in the middle, and I can’t keep living like this.”
“Maybe. But what you’ve done today isn’t going to fix this.” Arko looked at me with such disappointment that I wished the floor would swallow me whole.
“But,” I protested softly, my heart now cracking, “I’m only trying to find a way for all of us to coexist.”
“There is no coexistence with the Pavlovs,” Giovanni stated flatly. “There never has been, and never will be.”
“You’re not even trying,” I accused.
“Why should we try?” Luca asked. “He’s holding you hostage.”
“How many times do I have to tell you that I’m not a hostage!” My voice rose despite my best efforts to stay calm.
“Then walk out that door with us right now,” Caspian challenged.
I looked at Arko, whose face remained impassive. He just watched, waiting to see what I would do.
“I’m not leaving my husband,” I said quietly.
“This is worse, Bea,” Achille said gently. “This is Stockholm syndrome.”
“Arko has treated me with more respect than you can even imagine,” I hissed at Achille. “You don’t even know the half of it. The things he does for those around—”
I felt Arko’s hand on my elbow mid-sentence. “There’s no point,” he said, through gritted teeth. “We’re leaving.”
“But—” I tried to protest; however, Arko let go of my elbow and brushed past me. “I’m going to be in the car.”
He didn’t even look back, and from the way he stormed by my brothers, I knew he was pissed. Anxiety started coursing through my veins. I was just about to tell my brothers about the women he had saved, how much kindness there was in Arko Pavlov, but my husband stopped at the doorway.
“You coming or what? Can’t you see that your brothers aren’t listening to reason?”
Neither was Arko, but right now didn’t seem to be the right time to say that. Not when he was that furious.
What a spectacular show this turned out to be, I thought to myself with sadness as I caught my brothers’ disappointed looks on the way out.
“If you can’t understand why I’m walking away with him today,” I said quietly to Caspian and the others in parting, “it’s only because your pride mattered more than my happiness.”
I thought I saw a flicker of doubt in Caspian’s eyes, a flash of surprise in Giovanni’s, maybe even a glimmer of shame in Dante’s, but I didn’t have time to wait around any longer. Arko had already turned his back to me and was walking down the hall.
I followed, my throat clenching in pain. I had spent hours planning this evening, and my brothers turned it hostile in less than a minute.
***
Arko didn’t wait up. He was walking like he wanted to beat time at its own game, faster than my legs could catch up. I was panting by the time we reached the car. Arko held open the passenger door, and I barely slid in before he slammed it shut behind me.
With bated breath, I pulled on my seat belt and watched Arko slide in. He put the car in gear, and the tires screeched.
My back slammed against the leather as I caught my breath. He drove fast, but quiet. I let a few minutes slide by before I spoke.
“Are you…okay?” I asked, tentatively. “My brothers were disrespectful tonight.”
Arko turned on me, his eyes blazing. “It’s not your brothers I’m mad at. What the hell were you thinking?”
