Page 84 of Roman

CHAPTER 19

ROMAN

Istopped in the hotel, showering in the gym. I always kept a set of fresh clothes there for when I worked out. I refused to go to my suite with the lingering scent of the Santinis anywhere on my person. Simply being in the same room as them made me feel filthy.

Aldo didn’t say a word to me, but I knew he was thinking about what had occurred as much as I was. I also knew he would cover the hotel and casino for me. I wasn’t safe to be near anyone right now.

I let myself into the suite, not surprised to find Effie asleep. I sat and watched her for a short time, allowing the calmness she always afforded me to wash over me. I was desperate to touch her, but I refrained. Unless she asked, I wouldn’t.

Back in the office, I left the lights off, wanting the darkness. I poured a good measure of scotch into my glass, staring out the window at the Falls. The lights on the water showed the power of the flow, even with the darkness shrouding it. Up close, the thunder of the water was incredible. High up in the building, enclosed in glass, all I saw was the spectacle.

I sat down at my desk, switching on a lamp. I opened the drawer, taking out the small box Nonna had slipped into my pocket. I stared at the dusty, faded box for a moment, then flipped open the lid. Inside, the ring glowed with a life of its own. A cushion cut diamond glittered in the light, the deep color of the emeralds flanking the stone an unusual shade of green.

Like Nonna’s eyes.

My mother’s eyes.

My eyes.

This had been my great-grandmother’s engagement ring. It was passed to Nonna. She had offered it to Luca since I insisted I would never marry, but Luca declined, saying he wanted something more modern. In private, he told me it was only right it go to me.

“You are her favorite,” he said, stating the fact simply. “And you have the green eyes.” He clasped my shoulder. “One day, you will find the right one, Roman. I know it.”

I doubted that, but what he said was true. Although she treated us fairly, Nonna and I had always been extremely close. I looked like my mother, favoring her coloring. It drew Nonna to me the same way it pushed my father from me. I was too painful to be around. He never got over my mother’s death, and once she was gone, our interactions were sparse and usually fraught with tension. He concentrated on Luca, grooming him to take over, only bringing me in when our mother passed and he deemed me ready. But he was never satisfied with me. I often wondered how he would feel knowing that Luca went against most of what he stood for. Nonna insisted it was our mother in us.

I didn’t disagree.

I stared at the ring, slipping it from its mooring. I held it up to the light, imagining how it would look on Effie’s finger. How I would feel seeing it.

If she would hate it.

Hate me.

With a low curse, I put it back in its box and poured more scotch. I switched off the light and sat on the sofa, thousands of thoughts swirling in my head.

I couldn’t take it back. I had claimed Effie, and within twenty-four hours, the word would be out.

No one would dare touch her or risk my wrath and revenge. And the Santinis would be only too happy to share what had already occurred.

There was no choice in the matter. She had to stay with me. Married to me, in many ways, she would be untouchable. I owed her that debt for putting us on this course. I would marry her, and she could live with Nonna at the estate. We could find common ground. Maybe have a baby or two to please Nonna. Effie could live a good life. She wouldn’t have to work, worry about money, or anything else. I would take care of her. Give her everything she wanted.

Except for love.

She was one of those girls. She wanted to be loved. Cherished. She deserved it, but it wasn’t something I could give her. I was incapable.

I loved Nonna. Luca. Even Aldo and Vi in my own way. But it wasn’t fully, with utter abandonment, the way Effie wanted to be loved. I cared, looked after, and fixed. That was what I did.

My mood grew darker the more I thought about it. I cursed Marianne Warner. I cursed my own stupid mouth. My lack of a soul.

I startled at the sound of Effie’s voice. She appeared in front of me, bringing with her that lovely scent that drifted in the air around her. “Roman?” she asked, her voice low and sleepy. “Are you all right?”

“Go back to bed, Effie.”

“Why are you sitting in the dark?”

I barked a laugh. “People like me love the dark.”

She sat on the coffee table in front of me. “People like you?”