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He chews on a toothpick. “You must want to die today.”
“I’m married to his daughter.” I jerk my head toward the radio clipped on his jacket. “Call him.”
He narrows his eyes at me skeptically while backing away. The guy next to him lowers his gun, aiming it at my head, while the other speaks into the radio.
The man returns, whistling, and says, “Rest in peace, man,” while waving me through the entrance.
I don’t say a word while driving past him. Adrenaline pumps through me as I enter a place normally reserved for only those tightly associated with the Marchetti family. It’s well known that Cristian rarely welcomes visitors here. It’s like sacred ground to him.
The mansion stands tall and imposing, but I’m too busy to take in the architecture as I exit my car and approach the front door. Just as I raise my fist to knock, it swings open, and Cristian comes into view. He waves me in with three fingers, as if summoning me to my death, and I clear my throat while taking the first step inside.
He doesn’t say a word as he continues walking until we reach a doorway, and I follow him through it. I stand tall, not showing one sign of weakness, and straighten my cuff links as he shuts the door behind us.
“What can I help you with, Antonio?” he asks, straight-faced, while leaving a gap between us. He wants to make me uncomfortable, but is confused about who he’s dealing with.
“I need you to put our problems aside for the sake of Gigi.”
“Any issues she and I have are between us.”
“I’m her husband.”
“You forced her to marry you.” He scoffs. “I hardly think you can refer to yourself as such.” Walking around the desk, he opens a drawer, pulls out documents I recognize as the annulment papers he offered before, and slaps them on the table. “I’m giving you another chance to sign. Quit wasting my daughter’s time.”
“As I said before, no. Show me those again, and I’ll carry them to your gate and shove them down your guard’s throat until he fucking chokes to death.”
“You didn’t even give her a real wedding.”
“That’s why I’m here. I want to give her the wedding of her dreams, but she refuses to have one where you aren’t walking her down the aisle.”
“I’ll never willingly give my daughter to you.”
“I don’t need your blessing. I need you to let your daughter get the marriage ceremony she deserves.” My fingers itch to grab the annulment papers and rip those fuckers to shreds. They shouldn’t even exist.
“If I attend your nuptials, it’d appear as if I was approving your marriage.”
“You should give your approval.”
“God, how I wish I could shoot you in the head.”
At this point, with how stubborn he is, I’d like to do the same with him. But I need to remain calm and reasonable. This is for my wife.
“I’ve tried righting family’s wrongs,” I go on. “I love your daughter and will always protect her. If my actions haven’t proven that, then I don’t know what else can. Me being here, risking my life, so I can give her a wedding is proof enough. I’m not your enemy, Christian.”
“Anyone with the last name Lombardi is an enemy.”
“Did you fail to realize your daughter is now a Lombardi?”
He winces and clenches his fist. When I push my hand inside my blazer, he tenses before reaching toward his drawer again. Before he can grab a gun, I extract three photos.
A photo with Amara, Gigi, and me.
Another with us and Clara.
And then one with Amara and Gigi.
I drop them on the desk the same way he did the annulment papers. “This is what you’re missing out on. I don’t want anything from you. No money, weapons, deals. I have a broken wife who misses her family, and her heart doesn’t deserve to suffer for the actions of bloodthirsty men.”
He works his jaw and ignores the pictures. “I haven’t killed you because I love my daughter.”
