Page 114 of Roman

Why was she running?

What the fuck had happened?

Why was my wife so scared of me?

I caught up to her faster than she expected. I grasped her arm, spinning her around.

“Don’t,” she pleaded. “Don’t hurt me.”

I stepped back, shocked. “Effie,” I pleaded. “I would never hurt you.”

“Why,” she sobbed. “Why would you do it?”

I had no idea what she was talking about. But she was wet, shivering, and overwrought. I bent and scooped her into my arms, not letting her go even when she struggled. I headed straight to our room, setting her on her feet in the bathroom. She hung her head, the way her shoulders bowed making me think of the night I had dragged her out of that awful basement.

Not even waiting until the water warmed, I pulled her into the shower. I didn’t give a shit if my shoes and suit were ruined. I let the cold water spray on my back until it heated then I turned, letting the warmth saturate her clothing. I waited until I felt her shivers stop before stripping her of her clothing, then doing the same to mine. I kicked the wet material to the side of the shower. She never looked up, and her fists remained clenched. When I knew she was warm, I shut off the water and wrapped a towel around her. I dried her off then myself. I draped my robe around her, wanting her to have the material to nestle into. I led her to our room and pushed her gently into a chair and poured a hefty glass of brandy. She sipped the fiery liquid, grimacing. I tossed it back, set the empty glass on the table and took her trembling hands in mine.

“Tell me. Tell me exactly what happened.”

She glanced over, and I saw an old cell phone. I picked it up, and she took it from my hands, connecting to voice mail. The tremors returned full force as she set the phone on the table, and a voice I never wanted to hear again spoke.

“So, dear sister, I heard the funniest rumor,” Marianne said, sounding as if she’d smoked a hundred cigarettes earlier. “The news is that you married Roman Costas today. I was certain I had heard wrong. I mean what would a strong, powerful man like him want with a loser like you?”

There was a pause.

“Did he tell you, Effie? Did he tell you what he did?”

I shut my eyes at her words, knowing what was coming next.

“He gave me the idea to sell you. To settle my debt. Contact the Santini brothers, he said. So, I did. If he married you, no doubt he plans on doing the same thing once he’s tired of you. I bet he got a kick out of taking your cherry. And now the bastard has set them on my tail. He probably has a life insurance policy out on you. I bet he’s fucking you real good, isn’t he? Pretending he cares? I heard he’s a user and a player, so don’t get too comfortable. I hope he hurts you badly. You’ve always been such a thorn in my side. I hated you then, and I hate you now. I hope⁠—”

I couldn’t listen to any more of her vicious vitriol. I grabbed the phone, throwing it at the wall, feeling intense satisfaction as it exploded and she was silenced. For good.

Then I turned to Effie. The fear in her eyes broke me.

She believed her. Her fucking horror of a sister knew exactly how to beat Effie down with a few words. Her already shaken confidence was crushed under the weight of Marianne’s lies.

“I didn’t. I swear. She is twisting what happened.”

“She—”

“No.” I shook my head. “I was angry when she suggested giving you to me for a bit of ‘fun.’ Furious that she would do something so hideous. I lost my temper, and yes, I told her to peddle her offer elsewhere. I had no idea she would, Effie. I have no clue how she found the Santini brothers and made her deal. If I’d had any inkling she’d do such a thing, I would have gone and found you right away. Yes, when I figured it out, I did everything to find you because I felt guilty. Horrified that my anger and outburst had caused you pain. Especially once I met you. Saw the sweetness you carried with you. I knew it would be crushed, and I couldn’t take it. But it changed. I swear to you, it all changed.”

She began to shake her head, and I framed her face with my hands, refusing to let her look away. I needed her to see my eyes. To know what I was saying was true.

“Once I got to know you, it became paramount to protect you. But that’s not why I married you, Effie. I rescued you because I had to.” I drew in a deep breath. “I fell in love with you because I had no choice. My heart wanted you.”

Her eyes widened.

The moment Nonna had called, everything changed. The thought that Effie was ill or hurt broke down any resistance. I knew I loved her. All my denials and stupid ideas of not being able to love were blown away.

Because it was Effie. My Effie. My wife.

And I wasn’t letting her go until she accepted that fact.

Accepted me.

“I love you,” I repeated. “Everything about you. I’m so tired of fighting it. Trying to resist, when all I want is to be with you. To love you.”

Tears poured down her cheeks. “She⁠—”

“No,” I said again. “She lied. She did it to hurt you. Everything she did was to hurt you. I am not lying. You are never leaving me. I would die before I let anything happen to you, my little tiger. Believe me.”

She whimpered, and I leaned closer. “Look into my eyes, Effie. See the truth. I am yours. I have been since the day you told me to leave your shop. I was just too stubborn to see it.” I pressed my mouth to her trembling lips. “See it now, please, baby. See me.”

Our gazes locked and held. She was unsure and worried. Still scared. But I saw the way she struggled, wanting to believe. Hoping.

“You love me,” I murmured, leaning my forehead to hers. “I know you do. You have loved me and been patient. I’ll do the same, Effie. I’ll wait.”

Then I gathered her in my arms, holding her close.

I was never letting her go.