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“That you think I’m the type to fuck around on my wife? Please Ms. Romano, explain to me how my sex life has ever been any of your business? Fucking my father does not make you my mother.” I sneered at her, daring her to deny the accusation.
She’d long ago thought she might have a relationship with my father, that she might be wife number three. Instead, he’d married Trista and kept Mia as one of his regular side pieces. Somehow, she tolerated that place in his life, but blamed Trista for it.
I imagined she hated Samara purely on principle for being the wife that she had never had the opportunity to be.
A Bellandi wife.
“Your father broke Trista. I thought to save Samara from the same fate when you inevitably go back to the girls and the ease of your no-strings relationships. She should be prepared for what you’ll do to her—”
“Don’t speak like you know the first thing about me or my relationship with Samara. I wouldn’t have married her if I didn’t have every intention of staying loyal to her. I married her because she’s the only woman I’ve ever loved.”
Her eyes widened as I stepped around the desk to approach her. “But your father said that you only married her to protect her! He said that it wasn’t a real marriage.”
I smiled. The fact that she still trusted my father after all her years with him and his lies was incredible. “He played you. Used you to toy with Samara and hope that he could drive a wedge between us, but he can’t. You can’t. So, you’ve thrown yourself on the cross for nothing. Samara is still my wife. In fact, we’re closer than ever thanks to you.”
I leaned back on my desk, perching on the edge and crossing my arms over my chest. “I’m glad that she was strong enough to handle what I said. If what you say is true, I really hope you manage to be happy together. I’ll believe it when I see it, but maybe you’ll surprise me.” She turned, striding for the door like the conversation was done.
Like there wouldn’t be consequences for interfering in my marriage. “You won’t have the opportunity to see it,” I said, and her body flinched like I’d struck her. “You’re fired. I highly suggest you leave Chicago before my father finds another way to use you in what’s coming if he doesn’t learn to shut his mouth. I want you out of my club, and if I ever see you again, I won’t be so lenient. My wife does not exist to you. I do not exist to you. Understood?” I growled, and the tears in her
eyes as she turned to look back at me weren’t fake.
She’d invested years into the club, helping build it from the ground up.
“I understand,” she mumbled, hurrying out the door and disappearing down the hall.
With a sigh, I followed. But my destination wasn’t to leave.
I went for Enzo’s office, and the sound of Scar’s pissed off voice didn’t bode well for news of Connor’s whereabouts.
When we found him, I was going to cut him for every day he made me and my family hunt him down.
I just hoped he survived long enough to really, truly suffer.
Forty-Five
Samara
"Hey mommy," I murmured, leaning up to kiss her cheek as she strolled into the kitchen with Lino at her back. My body winced with soreness as I stretched up onto my toes. Sadie had kicked my ass at our last session, and I would swear the muscles in my toes hurt.
I didn’t even know toes had muscles before her.
"Hey, pretty girl. I'm so happy Sunday dinner is a thing again now that you two are settled. You have no idea how much I look forward to Lino's cooking during the week." She slipped onto a stool next to me, and I eyed her brightly colored skirt curiously. The tribal pattern was stunning and suited her bohemian look well.
"You're welcome anytime, Hattie," Lino murmured.
"Don't tell her that." I scowled at him. "She'll be here every night. When she tells you she loves your cooking, she really means, move me into the spare bedroom and call me mommy if it means you'll feed me."
My mother howled with laughter at my side, wrapping an arm around my shoulders and tugging me into her side dramatically.
Like it wasn't true.
"She's right," she agreed, giving Lino a beaming smile. "I best stick to once a week. I wouldn't want to intrude on the newlyweds." The buzzer sounded at the front, alerting us to the fact that our other guest had arrived at the gate. The guard was under instructions to let him through, so I knew he'd follow soon after. My stomach knotted with tension, because while the last interaction with him hadn't been hostile, it also hadn't had mom present to poke at it and Yavin and Lino still needed to have a conversation.
I hadn't been sure he'd come at all.
"That will be Yavin," Lino said, going to the door. He waited for the bell to ring at the front door.
"What's got you all twisted up?" Mom asked, and I looked at her out of the corner of my eye.
