Maximo rubs his nose and snarls, “Thathurt.”
Behind Sophia, Romantsks. “Watch your tone with my wife, Pontrelli.”
“Shehitme.”
Roman shrugs. “Sounds like you deserved it.”
Blake snickers, his arms resting around Ginevra’s waist.
To my utter disbelief, Sophia jabs Maximo in the nose again. This time he bleeds. “And that’s for not inviting us to theactualwedding.”
Maximo growls, but doesn’t complain. He’ll find no sympathy from anyone in this room. My cousin’s protectiveness brings a smile to my lips. After what Maximo’s done to me, I don’t mind seeing him bleed a little.
“You think this is funny?” Maximo scowls.
I shrug. I mean… he kind of had it coming. I don’t dare tell my family I was also drugged for my own wedding. They’d bury him alive. And for some reason, I don’t want him dead.
Sophia shakes out her fingers. “Damn, Arianna never mentioned how much that hurts.”
Immediately, Roman’s at her side, caressing her reddening knuckles. He glares at Maximo. “You’ve injured my wife.”
Maximo recoils, obviously appalled by the accusation. “She injured herself on my face,” he tosses back.
“The details are irrelevant. It’s still your fault.” Roman wraps a silk handkerchief around Sophia’s hand.
Maximo glowers, blood smeared across his upper lip. “Don’t pretend like either of you have any moral high ground to stand on. I know you kidnapped Sophia before you married her, Roman. And you,” he pins Blake with a glare, “literallyblackmailed Ginevra. Not a single one of you, and that includes Dimitri, wouldn’t have done what I did to Elena and feel completely justified.”
Roman and Blake exchange a loaded glance. Their icy expressions firmly in place, they both shrug.
“I had my reasons,” Roman states, as if that lets him off the hook.
“It was completely different with Gin,” Blake defends himself. “You can’t compare apples and oranges. Obviously.”
The door opens and Arianna’s husband, Dimitri, saunters in, only to halt so he can take in the scene before him. Blake hugs Gin close. Roman continues to sooth Sophia’s knuckles. Maximo wipes another trickle of blood from his nose, while I stand next to him, still in awe of Sophia’s boldness.
A slow grin spreads across Dimitri’s mouth. “Well, well, what’s going on here? Are we giving Max thewelcome to the familychat?”
We managed to leave the hospital without too much more violence. After long goodbyes to my sister, cousins, and the new babies, we headed out via limo to a waiting helicopter. The ride goes by in a blur as my thoughts are far from the here and now.
As we fly over the city to a mysterious destination, since Maximo won’t give me any hints about where we’re going, my mind spirals. What in the hell am I doing?
On the pier, I could have jumped into the river to escape Maximo, but I didn’t. I let myself be caught.
As soon as I woke up this morning, married, I could have raged at my new husband and insisted on a divorce. Did I even mention it once? No. Granted, I’ve been mostly pretending like it never happened. Maybe I’m in shock?
I glance down at my pink diamond engagement ring and the gold wedding band. No, I’m not in shock. I feel… at odds with myself. An internal turmoil that refuses to let up.
At the hospital, Sophia gave me the perfect opportunity to accept her help and protection, and I didn’t take that either. I know beyond a shadow of a doubt that my family would liberate me if I asked them.
What does this all mean? Do I even want out of this situation, or have I been deceiving myself all this time? Lying to myself?
As much as I’ve insisted I don’t want this, or him, I’ve gone quietly along with it all. Besides my first earnest attempt to leave New York forever when I went to California, I’ve made very little effort. At this point, I’m not even sure I’d act on whatever Mrs. Rizzo is setting up for my escape. Would I find an excuse not to leave? Have I already done that by deciding I’m staying for my nieces and nephew?
When I’m really staying because of him? I’m just too scared to admit it.
My gaze slides to Maximo—my husband. Now that I’ve decided to stay for my family, I wonder if it would be so bad to be the don’s wife. It’s a position of wealth, power, and respect. But do I want that? More importantly, do I wanthim?
As I think about it, my lips tingle with the memory of our first kiss. How being in his presence terrifies me as much as it’s exhilarating. The feelings I have when I’m around him scare me, but they’re also addicting.
