Page 16 of Bad Husband

“I didn’t take Chiara to No Point,” he said.

“Where did you take her?”

“To a safe house.”

“Damn it, Marco. Do you have any idea what you’re doing?” Angelo asked.

Marco stood, hands on his hips, staring up at the older man. “I can’t let her go. I won’t let her go.”

“Kidnapping her, that’s your answer?” he asked.

He looked toward her father, and he just flew his hands out either side. “Do you have any bright ideas? She wants out, Angelo. You know there is no way out of this.”

“There is,” Angelo said, “It’s just usually a path paved in blood.”

Usually for men, rarely for a woman.

Angelo paced.

“You’re going to have to get back there, and you’re going to have to let her go,” Angelo said.

“I don’t want to.” Marco knew he sounded like a child. “I fucking love her, Angelo, and I already fucked up big time. If I let her go, there’s no way I’m ever going to win her back.”

He hated being vulnerable. If there was ever a man to be vulnerable in front of, it was Angelo.

“I can’t let her go,” he said. He felt panicked. He didn’t like feeling this way.

Just then, Poodles came into the room, and Marco reached down and picked up his dog, holding onto him as if his life depended on it.

Angelo sighed. “You’ve got to go, and you’ve got to figure out how to fix this. I think you should take the dog with you as well.”

Marco watched as his father turned to leave, and he looked down at Poodles. “Do you think we’ll be able to win her over?”

Poodles tilted his head to the side, and he sighed. In all his life, he knew what he wanted to do. He knew how to find focus. Right now, he didn’t know what to do, as he’d never been in love. He didn’t know how to make it up to Chiara, and it bothered him. What should he do? How should he fix this?

He made his way back to his car, climbed in, and strapped in his dog, as he had brought a harness to take care of him. Once they were both secured, he pulled out of his home, closing the gate, and drove the distance to the safe house. During the journey, he didn’t have a clue what he was going to do or say. He didn’t know how Chiara would react to seeing him, if she would be happy, sad, or miserable. This was a fucking nightmare.

He thought about the memories they shared in their year of marriage. Chiara never questioned him when he kept her at arm’s length during all other functions. She didn’t cross that boundary, even as it killed him to let her go. They never stopped being strong together.

When they were alone, he made up for the disaster of their wedding night. Even if his balls were blue, he wouldn’t reach that peak, until he knew she found pleasure. Many hours were lost in making love and fucking his wife.

Six months he’d gone without.

Women tried to attract his attention, and within the Bove Mafia, it was considered normal to take a mistress. His father never had, neither had Angelo. A mistress was taken when you didn’t like your wife. Marco loved his wife. He loved her wit and charm. She was a dream.

If she’d been with anyone else, they might have beaten that right out of her. He couldn’t bear to see her hurt.

You didn’t stop them from hurting her.

One stupid action.

Pulling into the safe house, he released Poodles and carried his dog inside. It was a good thing he did, as Chiara was waiting there, complete with a baseball bat to hit him, and she stopped the moment she saw the dog. She took a deep breath and dropped the bat to the floor.

“Why?” she asked.

“We need to fix this,” he said.

“There is nothing to be fixed. We’re done, Marco. You and me, we’re over, and there is no coming back from this.” She held her hands up and let them drop. “No way at all.” She took a step back and her gaze kept going to Poodles.