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Manners dictate I thank him. “I appreciate the call.”
“If you need anything—”
“I don’t.”
“Yeah.” He sighs. “Of course you don’t.”
I hang up. Scrubbing a hand over my face, I stare at the passing cars. They’re silent thanks to the double windowpanes.
“Maxime?”
I turn. Zoe stands in the door with a towel wrapped around her body and her wet hair combed back.
“Get dressed,” I say. “We’re leaving.”
“What happened?”
I go back to the room and close the door. “Alexis is dead.”
Her pretty face pales, making the freckles on her nose stand out more. “How?”
“Car bomb.” I take her bag and start packing the clothes she wore yesterday. “Leonardo.”
“Oh, my God.” She stands like a pillar in the corner. “I’m sorry.”
“I’m not.” I throw a clean pair of underwear at her. “Get a move on. We’ll get breakfast on the way.”
“What now?” she asks, dropping the towel and stepping into the panties. Her hands shake slightly as she pulls the lace over her hips.
I look away. I already want her too much. It makes what I must do all the harder.
Chapter 37
Zoe
The funeral takes place on Monday. We sit at the back of the church during the memorial service, away from the rest of the family, and stay on the outskirts at the cemetery when the coffin is lowered into the ground. Izabella is dressed in a stylish black dress and hat, her face stoic. Raphael is a different story. His face is red and his gait unsteady. A blonde with fishnet stockings and pink heels clings to his arm.
After the priest has said a few words and the mourners disperse, Raphael makes his way over to where we stand. The woman on his arm has a hard time keeping up with her heels sinking into the damp grass. She keeps on getting stuck, and eventually gives up and lets go of Raphael’s arm.
He waves a finger at Maxime when he’s still a good distance away. “How dare you show up here? It should’ve been you.” He staggers to a halt in front of Maxime. “It should’ve been you in that car. I told you. I told you he was in trouble, and what did you do?”
Maxime’s doesn’t react. He stands quietly, his face expressionless.
Raphael turns on me. “Did you know he played you? Did you know he orchestrated the whole game of making you happy?”
Coldness creeps over my skin.
Maxime jumps forward, gripping a fistful of Raphael’s jacket lapel. “That’s enough.”
“It was just a plan to make you want to stay,” Raphael says.
Maxime’s eyes go hard like granite. Violence brews under his calm veneer, but I’m too shocked to intervene.
Emile, Raphael’s brother, runs up and grabs Raphael’s arm. “Time to go.” He doesn’t look at me.
The blonde has removed her shoes and arrives out of breath with them in her hand.
“Take him,” Emile says to her.
She hooks her arm through Raphael’s. “Come, sweetie. Let’s go home.”
Emile takes his other arm. Together, they walk him to his car. What did Raphael mean? I hope to God it’s not what I think. I don’t have time to analyze it further, because my gaze falls on Leonardo who watches from a distance. When he catches Maxime’s eye, he nods, and then he takes his sister’s elbow and steers her away.
“What was that about?” I ask, my stomach in knots. I’m petrified Leonardo will come after Maxime too.
“We’re even,” Maxime says, not taking his eyes off Leonardo’s back. “I humiliated his sister. He killed my brother.”
At least Alexis is no longer a threat. I cringe in shame for the thought. I’ve been around Maxime for too long. His blasé attitude toward life and its value is rubbing off on me.
Taking my hand, he leads me to his car.
“Why did you come?” I ask as he gets my door.
“Blood is thicker than water.”
I get in and fasten my safety belt.
Hadrienne, Noelle, and Sylvie stand a short distance away, waiting for Emile who’s telling the blonde to drive Raphael’s car while Raphael protests for all the graveyard to hear. Noelle glares and says something to Hadrienne, who turns around to look at me. I can only guess what the hostile stares are about. If not for me, Maxime would never have left his position. He was always a much better mafia boss than Alexis. Maybe then Alexis would still be alive. He would’ve been alive and at war with his brother. I don’t think Alexis would’ve ever let it go. The conversation we had the day he walked into the apartment when Maxime carelessly left the door open runs through my head. He’d said I was supposed to marry him before Maxime decided to claim me as mistress. He was as bitter about that as he was jealous of Maxime’s power.
Maxime gets in and starts the engine. He glances in the direction of the women who turn away as if he’s a contagious disease they may catch by sight.
