I scoot my chair in closer and snuggle into his side as I thread my fingers in his. I regularly spotted bruises on Eleanora’s face and arms, and I knew that monster she was married to was beating her and forcing her to do his bidding. It still doesn’t excuse how she stood by and watched a young girl be victimized and violated so viciously, and I won’t ever forgive her. But I had no clue Massimo was subjected to this growing up, and it only adds to my confusion.
The need to comfort him is riding me hard, and I wrap my arms around him as I tip my head up. “That sounds horrendous. I am sorry you had to go through that. What about your brothers? Didn’t they try to stop it?”
“Carlo and Primo were Maximo’s mini-mes. They were equally as cruel as our father, and the world is a better place without them in it.” The vehemence of his tone leaves little doubt, and I am stunned again.
I don’t know how to process this.
The knowledge Massimo denounced his father and brothers changes things, whether I want to admit it or not.
“They regularly beat Mom too,” he continues, “though she has a selective memory when it comes to that. She doesn’t like to think her eldest sons were monsters, so she chooses to forget it most of the time.”
I clear my throat, unwilling to waste the opportunity. “I noticed at the wedding your mother seemed uncomfortable around people and she shuns attention.”
He nods, rubbing circles on the back of my hand with his thumb as he rests his chin on my head. “She’s very fragile. My father broke her spirit, and though Gabe and I have tried everything to rebuild her, her psyche is too damaged.” He tilts my chin up with one finger. “I want you to meet her. Maybe having another woman to talk to will help both of you.”
Over my dead body will I ever bond with that woman. I’m not a complete coldhearted bitch. I don’t envy her the trauma she must have suffered in that house. But does the fact she was traumatized excuse what she did to me? Possibly to countless others? I don’t think so. “No offense, Massimo. But I don’t think it works like that. I have spent years in therapy working through my issues, and the memories still haunt me. They always will. Talking about them often triggers a flashback, and it’s not something I like to do. The past is best left buried in the past.”
Yes, I’m aware of the hypocrisy. The thing is, I feel those words deep in my soul, but I’m unable to live that truth. I’m unable to let it go. Not until those who played a part in my suffering have been dealt my special brand of justice.
“Perhaps you are right, but I still want you to meet her. You are the two most important women in my life, and I want you to get to know one another.”
“I will visit her with you after we deal with the Mexicans and the Chinese.”
“Thank you.”
We resume eating what’s left of our breakfast, and I’m deep in thought. “How did you end up so well-rounded?” I ask after a few minutes of amicable silence. Honestly, growing up in that house, it’s a miracle he turned out the way he did.
“I was determined not to be like my father and older brothers even if I stupidly sought their approval as a teen. Fiero kept me grounded. We kept each other grounded. He was going through his own shit with his father.”
“His father is a misogynistic prick.”
“One hundred percent. He wasn’t physically abusive like my father. His abuse was more of the psychological and emotional kind. Just before we graduated high school, he bypassed Fiero and officially appointed his younger brother as his heir. It’s not usually the way things are done, but it’s not unheard of either. It was the ultimate insult, but it bonded Fiero and me as true brothers. We relied on one another solely from that point on. We promised to always be honest and level with one another. He knows things about me no one else does.”
“Like what?”
Pursing his lips, he turns in his chair to face me. “I think that’s enough of the heavy for one day. We have the rest of our lives to discover everything about one another.” Holding my face in both hands, he leans in and kisses me. It’s a long, slow, passionate exploration of my lips and my mouth, and my heart is splintering in my chest as I’m torn between giving in to my insatiable need for him and wanting to put as much distance between us so I can stop this madness.
His cell pings, ending the moment and taking the decision out of my hands. Massimo lifts his phone, swiping his finger across the screen. “Nicolina is here. My men let her through the gate a couple of minutes ago.”
A timely intervention from my bestie. “Are you finished?” I ask, standing and moving to clear the table.
Massimo spears the last piece of omelet with his fork, popping it in his mouth. I gather up the plates and cups while he chews. “Thank you for breakfast,” he says, taking the bread basket and condiments. “And thanks for last night,” he whispers in my ear. “It exceeded my wildest dreams and then some.”
A shiver cascades down my spine. The good kind. “You’re welcome.”
He bends down and kisses me again as we both stand holding the remnants of breakfast in our hands.
“Ahem.” A throat clearing pulls us apart. Nicolina beams at us, smiling like a proud mama, as she bounces from sneakered foot to sneakered foot. “I would ask what you two have been up to, but it seems obvious.”
Massimo waggles his brows, tossing a flirtatious smile her way. “If your friend is running funny this morning, you can totally blame me.”
I glare at my husband because I can’t smack him with plates in my hands.
He chuckles as he sets the basket and condiments down before retrieving the items from my hands. “Go get ready for your run. I’ll clear up here before I leave.”
“Shoo.” Nic flaps her hands in my face, moving around and grabbing the plates from the table. “I’ll help your husband clean up.”
ChapterTwenty-Four
