“It’s not as simple as that, Frankie.”She was right, and I had no business telling her about her marriage when I was so busy making a mess of mine.“Our men will never be good men, but I think Carlo wants to be good to you. Give him a chance to show you.”
He had been trying, and I love the piano. I loved seeing the musical, chatting with him about it over dinner, sampling the different French dishes he ordered for us so I might try them all and riding around in his car to see the city lights. It was the loveliest date night I could’ve imagined.
And the way he made me feel when we came home… Desire pools low in my belly every time I sit down at my piano remembering what he did and how wonderful it was.Until you ruined it.
Reaching out, I find his side of the bed cold. It’s after three in the morning. Once again, he's not here. We’ve barely interacted the past few days. I wonder where he is. And I wonder why my heart hurts so much over his absence.
Throwing on his robe, his lingering scent taunts me as I go in search of him. There's a light spilling out from his office. My heart pounds as I approach the door that’s ajar. It’s thick and heavy. Though it matches the other doors, I think this one’s made of steel. It’s usually closed and locked, and I have the impression this is the one place I’ll never be welcomed.
Peering around the door, I take in the dark-stained, grooved timber paneling on the walls and the tightly-coiled carpet under my bare feet. My steps are muffled. The room is soundproofed. I spot Carlo sitting behind a large mahogany desk with an open laptop beside him. His head was thrown back in slumber a moment ago but, by the time I reach him, his eyes have opened. He’s still wearing his dress shirt and slacks along with his gun holster.Always ready for a fight.
"What is it?” His voice is harsh, and I glance down at the laptop, trying to compose myself. I only note columns of numbers before he shuts it and continues staring at me with suspicion.
“I had a nightmare,” I admit, softly. His eyebrows rise – a silent ‘So?’ – and I suppose I can’t blame him. “I was wondering if you’d come to bed.”
I twist my hands together, worried he’ll refuse me, but he slowly rises from his desk chair until he’s towering over me, his dark eyesstudying me silently.“Va bene,”he agrees at last. “Where did you get this?” he asks, pointing toward the book I’d bought yesterday. He must have picked it up from the coffee table in the living room and carried it in here.
“I want to learn sign language. The internet is handy, but this was recommended as a good teaching guide.”
“Why?”
“To communicate with Giulia better,duh.”
“Duh?” he repeats with a flash of amusement.
“I told you I wanted to see her again. I’d like to get to know her. And Bianca and Anna, too. I don’t have any family here.”
His eyes narrow, but he doesn’t comment. “If you want us to go to bed, lead the way,” he says, ushering me back out of his office and locking it behind him.
After he follows me up the stairs, he disappears into the bathroom. I crawl back under the covers, but I can’t fall asleep again yet. The uncomfortable knot that’s been in my belly for days now insists on being untangled, and I need some help with that.
When he leaves the bathroom in a pair of black boxer shorts, my eyes rake over his body, studying his broad chest with the skull tattoo and its bony, shushing finger. I admire his firm abs, the delicious V of his hips and his muscled thighs. A dull ache throbs between my legs. I may have thought I could hold the strings, use sex as a weapon to get what I want from my husband, but I was discounting the fact I'd like to do some of those things with him regardless.
He lays down with a sigh, and the inches of empty sheet between us feel like an ocean, a treacherous and painful one.
“You often have nightmares. Tell me about them.”
My heart leaps at the command for more than one reason. I’m pleased he's asking but also scared to bare myself this way. Pushing my fear aside, I choose to answer him. “I dream about what happened that day when Rocco woke me from a nap by the pool and dragged me to my uncle’s office. I remember… he said it would be an insult to see me rise so high, to be your wife. He promised the guard he could have me next and… then he got on top of me. In the dreams, my limbs are made of lead. I'm helpless… but I know Caterina is coming. I keep waiting for her arrival. But I never can see her. Or I dream she arrives too late, or she dies trying to save me. Sometimes, I dream Alessio dies, too.”
I release a shuddering breath, crossing my arms over my chest as though warmth can keep trauma at bay. Carlo pulls me across those inches of cool sheet between us until I’m wedged against him like a book tucked into the slot meant just for it. Immediately, my body starts to relax again.
“I know he’s dead, but the nightmares still come, nearly every night. I suppose that’s how my brain wants to remind me of it since I refused to talk about it afterwards.”
He strokes my bare arm. “I hate it happened,” he says, gruffly. “I hate I wasn’t there to protect you. I hate we ever let you go back to Vegas. I have never hated anything more,” he murmurs against my neck. His warmth eases some of the ache. “If you ever want to talk about it, you can talk to me.”
“Do you ever want to talk about upsetting things?”
There’s no hesitation when he answers. “No. The omertà may as well be carved into my soul. I’ve been hardened to this world since Iwas far younger than you. Though, I imagine it would be different when you never had a choice in what you see or experience.”
Did Carlo ever really have a choice considering the family he was born into? I recall what he said to me the night of Alessio’s Seconda when he was still bound by duty and honor to another woman, one he barely knew."Who says a monster can't be hurt?"The men in our world have more freedom and hold more power, but they carry their own burdens, and they must carry them in silence if they have no one they can trust to turn to.
“It is different, but I don’t like to give him any power over me by admitting the dreams bother me. I didn’t like him having any power when he was alive, so he shouldn’t have any from his grave either.”
“He doesn’t. He never will.”
Reaching for Carlo's hand, I drag it up to my chest, pressing it to my heart. “You’ve not come to our bed the past few nights.”
“I got the impression you didn’t want me here unless it meant you could get something out of it.”
