It was wholly and unequivocally real.
Tommaso lied. He’s been lying to me since I woke up in the hospital. That’s all he’s been doing.
I’m not his sun; I’m not his anything…except his whore.
Chapter 32
Tommaso
We’vejustfinalizedthecreation of the Chamber at Gilly’s and are toasting to our prosperous future together.
Marco comes over after taking a phone call, and the look on his face makes me set my bourbon down and stand.
“What is it, Marco?”
Zeus and Tomas stand as well, reaching for their weapons, given my rigidity.
“We need to go, Tommaso,” he says hurriedly. “Papà, Arturo, and Rosa just arrived at your house.”
“Fuck.”
Zeus grips my arm, stopping me. “Everything okay? Do you need the Havoc Guardians to chip in to help already?”
The last part is said in jest, but I see the serious offer in his eyes.
“Not at the moment, but I’m not turning down that offer in the future.”
He nods and drops his hand, and I race out of Gilly’s with Marco.
“What the hell is going on?” I demand, sprinting for my car and getting in. The tires squeal before he even gets his door shut, and I’m racing through the city streets to get to my house as soon as fucking possible.
“The guards letPapàin when he threatened them. Adolfo and Jerome tried to stall him, but…”
“Gina?”
“It’s not good.”
My jaw flexes, and my hand white-knuckles the steering wheel as he relays what Jerome called to report what happened.
“Fuck.” I hit the steering wheel. “Fuck!”
We had no idea our father was coming. Riccardo didn’t call to give us a heads up, which I know he would’ve. Which means he was kept in the dark.
But why? And why the surprise visit? With Arturo and Rosa in tow?
We’re silent as I just about kill us twice getting home as fast as I can. We race down the street, toward the gates, which the guards thankfully have open for us. I roar through them and up the drive, my tires squealing as I slam to a stop in front of the house. I jump out of my car, taking the steps three at a time.
Adolfo opens the door for me with a grave look on his face.
“Where is she?” I demand.
“Your bedroom.”
But I don’t make it far before Rosa flies out from the sitting room on the right and slaps my face. “You bastard!” she shrieks.
Outwardly, I remain calm and in control, even though I’m vibrating with rage and urgency to get to my wife and explain.
Jesus Christ, my house of cards hasn’t just fallen down, it’s blazing like an inferno while it crumbles.
