“It is. We live in a fucked-up world.” He kisses me softly, staring at me with so much love I can scarcely believe it.
I was terrified to tell him the truth, but once again, Massimo has proven what a good, compassionate, decent man he is.
“You are amazing,mia amata. You don’t even realize it. I always knew you were strong, but your strength is beyond anything I can comprehend. To survive that. To do what you have done. To ascend to the position you now hold. It’s remarkable. It is I who is not worthy.”
“I don’t feel very strong now,” I truthfully admit, resting my head on his shoulder as I prepare to break his heart.
“Today has been exhausting, and I think it’s time to call it a day.”
I lift my head and pierce him with a sober look. “I have one final truth to tell you. Then you know it all.”
He clasps my face in his hands. “What is it?”
Tears flood my eyes, and I definitely think I have broken something inside me. It’s like I can’t stop crying now. He mops up my tears and patiently waits for me to compose myself.
I suck in a brave breath and release the last truth. “The injuries I sustained as a teen mean I can’t have children. I blackmailed the doctor into falsifying the pre-wedding medical report. I am so sorry, but I can’t give you any heirs, Massimo.”
ChapterForty
Massimo
Shock crashes into me, quickly replaced with anger and deep-seated pain. “He took that from you too?” It takes colossal willpower to remain calm when I feel like smashing every fucking thing in this room. I can’t get angry at her for tricking me with the medical report, not when my brother is the reason she had to lie.
My God, Catarina has had to endure so much.
That she is still standing is nothing short of miraculous. This woman has iron strength, and I will never stop being in awe of her.
I am enraged that Carlo robbed her of the opportunity to become a mother. I have never hated any person as much as I hate my dead brother. I wish I had a time machine so I could go back and beat that sick fuck to death myself. “That fucking bastard. That sick twisted evil prick.” I grind my teeth to the molars, smothering the need to roar and shout from the pit of my lungs.
Tears stream down her cheeks and drip down over her chin. I have never seen my love look so devastated and so defeated. “He took everything from me. He left me a shell of a person. Barren. Emotionless. Incapable of feeling anything but pain and rage.”
It’s no wonder she’s been hellbent on revenge. Carlo did his best to completely destroy her, but he didn’t succeed. I feather kisses all over her face as I hold her close. “He didn’t take everything,mia amata. He tried, but he failed because your indomitable will to survive prevailed.”
She looks at me through tear-stained eyes. “I won’t contest it if you want a divorce.”
“I don’t want a divorce. I only want you.”
Shock registers on her face for a few seconds. “You can’t mean that. What about children? You need an heir to carry the family name.”
Perhaps it is time to let the Greco name die. It is not exactly a name to be proud of.
“There are other ways to have kids. We can try IVF and a surrogate, or we can adopt.” I shrug because in the scheme of things it’s not that big of a deal. Yes, I would love to be a father but not at the expense of losing my wife. “You are my everything, Catarina. Nothing else matters but you. If we can’t have children, I will be fine as long as I have you.”
She starts crying again, and I bundle her against me, hugging her tight, wishing I had a magic wand so I could erase all her pain and make everything right.
I carry my wife to our bedroom, and we shower together, washing away the awful events of today. After we are dry and dressed for bed, she insists on tending to my injuries. With infinite care, she rubs antiseptic ointment over the stitched wound on my arm and massages arnica cream into the raised bruise on my temple.
We snuggle close in bed, and I cradle her in my arms, watching as she falls asleep, grateful it is fast. It’s unsurprising. We are physically and emotionally drained after a stressful few days. I watch her as my eyelids grow heavy, silently vowing to do everything in my power to comfort her in the challenging days ahead.
I wake the following morning before Catarina, as the first rays of daylight filter through my window. I message Fiero to meet me here while I hug my sleeping wife, inhaling the fruity scent from her hair and savoring the touch of her skin against mine. Thankfully, she slept soundly without interruption. My eyes drink her in as she sleeps.
Thick lashes brush the tops of her high cheekbones, and air seeps from her slightly parted full lips. Our crisp white bed sheet is tucked under her arms, dipping softly at the front, and her chest lifts and falls as she breathes, highlighting the swells of her magnificent tits. Smooth olive skin is soft to my touch as I risk sweeping my fingers along the elegant column of her neck. She stirs a little, and I stall my movements, not selfish enough to rouse her from much-needed sleep.
Reluctantly, I climb out of bed, careful not to wake her. Although there are many loose ends to tie up before our meeting with The Commission today, I can handle it while she sleeps. She needs the rest.
Fiero and I jog companionably side by side along the shoreline, and I push myself to my limits, needing an outlet to expel the angry energy still coursing through my veins. He doesn’t speak until we are back at the house, panting and coated in sweat from our vigorous run.
I shove my wet top and sweaty socks into the basket in the laundry room, before padding to the kitchen in bare feet and my training shorts. I walk to the refrigerator to get two bottles of water, when my buddy opens the conversation.
