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“What you two should do is…” he pointed with his finger to my chest and in the direction of Antonio’s office, “talk. Communicate. With each other. Did you even ask what he does?”
He let a frustrated sigh slip out at my silence and got up. “Amore! A couple of idiots.” Muttering further, he walked back inside.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
DIVYA
My stomach dipped at the sight of father and daughter huddled in the armchair. Both fast asleep, one more comfortable than the other.
With his eyes closed, the air in the room was lighter. It was a relief for once not to have those razor-sharp eyes follow me around like a warm breath down my neck.
He had this habit of reading to Cora before bedtime when he was home. Even though the baby didn’t have the attention span to even last a page, it made for a great bonding moment between father and daughter. Moments like this made me wish for my rose-tinted glasses so I could forget. Forget that this man, holding this baby so gently, is a killer, a member of a crime organisation.
Trying to wrap my head around all that had happened the past few days made me come up empty and confused. There was a cacophony in my head that would make even the most eccentric take a side step. I needed time. Time to process everything.
What, then, was I doing here, seeking him out?
An inkling of doubt had crept into my steadfast convictions. Maybe I had been quick to judge what my parents had always taught me not to.
So many times, my dad had spoken about his family, who had been quick to judge his relationship with a white woman. Not willing to open up to a different way of living.
Had I done the same now and run to my own conclusions?
But how could it be the same when this was far worse?
The only information I had of the mafia was from some random Hollywood movies. I hadn’t even bothered to google the organisation. I never needed to.
Now I knew more. Even though it was biased, Rosa and Armando’s view seemed genuine to me.
Everyone has good and bad in them. Armando’s words whirled in my mind.
Did I really have the right to judge others?
Angelo’s words, spoken and unspoken, showed a different side of Antonio. One of a brother and of the burden of a firstborn son. One of a different mafia.
But it was still a crime organisation. One where illegal deals were happening every day.
On the other hand, illegal deals were happening everywhere, every day, not only in The Mafia.
Was I really trying to talk myself into staying married to this man?
Why not? At least until the case is done and I have the finances to start my new life.
Mad, that’s what I was. Going mad.
I let my eyes feast on my husband, trailing him from head to toe. His grey dress pants and white shirt looked dishevelled. He looked tired, sleep deprived, almost as if he, too, had spent some sleepless nights just like me. I didn’t know why, but I liked that idea.
Cora snuggled deeper into his arms, kicking her legs and rubbing her nose free of snot on his chest. The book on his lap slid off and landed on the floor with a thud. Not loud enough to wake the baby, but plenty to wake the man. His eyes shot awake and straight to mine, his relaxed posture dropping for one of alertness as if he expected danger to stab him any minute.
And those eyes are back on me.
I pushed off the wall and closed the distance between us. Every step I took made the air between us tingle. Tension rode high. By the time I lifted Cora from his arms, the air was as tight as the cables on the Zakim bridge.
His hand landed on my arm, holding me tightly in place. Heat penetrated my skin.
This close, I could drown in his eyes. Killer or not.
“Just going to put her in her cot.” The croak in my voice was going to be my downfall.
