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Except Chloe isn’t buying it. Again, not a surprise. My wife is a brilliant one. And if she wasn’t so close to this situation, if this was anything else that was going on, I’d trust her implicitly. But her vision is skewed by the past, by the years of pain and abuse and terror that followed my brother’s attack on her. Which means I have to be the clearheaded one here. I have to be the one who does what’s necessary to ensure that Brandon never hurts another woman again.
“Chloe, baby, I understand what you’re saying. I really do. And I would give you anything you ask of me. Anything you want. Except for this. I’m going to meet Valducci. I’m going to cut off the steady stream of money he’s funneling into Brandon’s campaign. And then I’m going to go after my brother. And there’s nothing you or anyone else is going to be able to say or do to change my mind.”
Chapter 12
There isn’t much to be said after that—on either of our parts. So we don’t talk. Instead, I order up breakfast from room service and we sit around very pointedly not talking about the fact that we disagree on something so fundamentally important to both of us.
It’s the most awkward meal we’ve ever had together.
Afterward, I text Tori, ask her to come hang with Chloe while I go out. It’s not that I’m worried about Chloe precisely (though I am). It’s that I don’t want to leave her alone here, staring at the walls as she worries and waits for me to get back. In that week we were apart, I spent a lot of time doing just that and it wasn’t healthy for anyone.
Tori grumbles as much as anyone can grumble in a text message, but she promises to be at our door in less than half an hour. It’s the best I can do, so I slip on my shoes, grab my wallet and room key, and text Geoffrey to make sure he’s downstairs.
He is.
Chloe is studiously ignoring me by this point, which sets my teeth on edge, if I’m being honest. Not because I’m mad, but because it makes me nervous. I don’t like being at odds with her. I don’t like knowing that something I’m doing is hurting her. But at the same time, I can’t see my way around to making things better for her. At least not until I take care of this.
“I’m going now,” I say, as I slide my cell phone into an inside pocket in my suit jacket and make my way to the suite’s front door.
I’m not sure if she’ll even say good-bye or not—things are that strained between us—but Chloe surprises me. Instead of ignoring me, she crosses the suite on bare feet and meets me at the door. Once there, she straightens my shirt collar a little, brushes a speck of lint off my sleeve. Then looks me directly in the eye.
“I love you,” she tells me and my knees nearly go weak with relief.
“I love you, too.” I reach for her, pull her into my arms, kiss her with all the pent-up worry and frustration this morning has wrought.
She returns the kiss, her hands cupping my face, her body pressed against mine. When I finally pull away, she holds on for an extra few seconds…and I let her. How can I not when all I truly want in the world is to be loved by this woman?
“Don’t go,” she whispers against my mouth. “Nico Valducci is a terrible man. I don’t want you to get hurt over something you can’t change. Please, Ethan, don’t go.”
I can taste her teardrops against my lips and it nearly shatters me. Nearly brings me to my knees. I would give her anything, but I can’t give her this.
“I’ll be back in two hours,” I tell her. “And then we’ll spend the rest of the day together doing silly stuff. I’ll take you to the Adventuredome and we’ll ride some rides. Maybe do the roller coaster over at New York–New York. How does that sound?”
She closes her eyes briefly, but when she opens them the tears are gone and she’s smiling. It’s a strained smile, but it’s a smile nonetheless. “It sounds almost perfect, actually.”
“Then it’s a plan.” I drop another quick kiss on her lips and then I’m gone, striding toward the elevator as I run my other plan over in my head one more time.
When I get downstairs, Sebastian is already in the lobby waiting for me. “You sure you want to do this, man?” he asks as we find Geoffrey outside and climb into the back of the limo.
“It’s got to be done,” I answer, and that’s the end of that.
We’re meeting Valducci at a small Italian restaurant in a strip mall a few blocks off the Strip. My research tells me it’s one of his money-laundering places. It also tells me that two nights a week, a very high-stakes poker game goes on in the restaurant’s private room. Poker’s always been Brandon’s game and I can’t help wondering if this is where he racked up so many of his gambling debts.
It’s still early, and traffic isn’t bad, so it doesn’t take very long to get to the restaurant. Sebastian and I spend the short trip almost in silence, both of us locked in our own heads. I know what I want to say, am sure he knows what he wants to do as well. And it’s not that I’m nervous, because I’m not. The organized crime aspect aside, Valducci is a businessman and this is a business deal—one that’s going to be very advantageous to him, actually. Still, I want this to be over so I can be back in my hotel room, making love to my wife and showing her that everything really is going to be okay.
We’re a couple minutes from the restaurant when Sebastian says, “How the fuck did we get here, man?”
I laugh, but there’s no humor in the sound. “That’s a question I ask myself every day.”
“I bet.” He clears his throat, looks out the window. “You know, I’ve never really wanted to hurt another human being as much as I want to hurt Valducci. I’d kill the son of a bitch if I could get away with it.”
I’m a little surprised—Sebastian’s always been the more coolheaded one in our friendship, and the bigger humanitarian/people-lover. Oh, we both believe in using our money and talents to save the world, but, with the exception of the war veterans I visit at the VA hospital, my philanthropy is a little broader, more concept and less hands-on. Sebastian’s always been the one to work with people one-on-one. Whether in Haiti or Nigeria or Mexico, he’s always been one to care about the people more than the cause.
So to hear him talk about killing someone so matter-of-factly throws me a little, especially considering he’s one of the most nonviolent guys I know.
“This is about more than the ‘protection’ money he’s been extorting from your father.”
It’s not a question, but Sebastian still nods. “Yeah.”
