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“Your wife is struggling. She’s checking out day by day,” Carlotta says, drawing me out of my thoughts. “Giovanni, you can’t go on like this. You have to take this seriously. I’m afraid you will destroy each other if you don’t. You’re going to regret it if you don’t.”
A long moment passes where my head pounds as if I’ve been in a full-force collision with a steel wall, and I fight through the intense throbbing to sort out my thoughts. Carlotta’s right about everything she’s said; we have issues that only seem to intensify the more my empire expands. The more time I dedicate to my work and neglect my marriage.
My woman.
“What do I do?” I ask. I glance at her with a rare sincerity most don’t see out of me. A vulnerability a King like me can’t afford to show many. “How can I fix this, Carlotta?”
She shakes her head, her face grim. “There is no easy answer. You need to be open to what your wife is going through. What have I always told you?Moglie felice vita felice. Happy wife, happy life.”
“We need time together,” I brainstorm aloud. “Time alone.”
“Nowork,” she adds.
“I have an empire to run, dozens of multimillion operations. Thousands of men I command all over the country. Complicated rivalries with other families that require utmost attention. I can’t just neglect these things—” I stop myself and rumble out a breath. Eyes clenched shut, I try again. “I’ll… I’ll have to leave it to Vic for a few days. Let him sit in the chair while I take time off with Falynn.”
“That’s a start. If I can make another suggestion, don’t hold onto her so tightly. Let her have some control. When a woman feels trapped, it’s never a good thing.”
Carlotta’s words echo in my head when I eventually swallow my pride—virtually a first—and make my way upstairs. I pause outside the door to our master bedroom and inhale another calming breath.
Funny how I haven’t noticed the ways I’ve changed. Funny how the cognac, in its own truth-pulling way as alcohol tends to do, has me see clearly how this is the case. I used to become a different man around Falynn.
It was something that naturally happened. I took off my hard, cold, Mafia King exterior. I became the attentive, passionate man she loved.
Standing outside the door, I don’t even remember how to do it anymore. It’s an ability I’ve lost, and never realized until now. No wonder Falynn has closed herself off to me. I’ve closed myself off to her first. So intensely obsessed with fulfilling my father’s shoes, I let my thirst for wealth and power rule me.
Years have passed since I’ve taken time for us.Justus, and nobody else.
I let the double doors to the master bedroom fall all the way open before I enter. The staticky noise of the shower reaches my ears. I follow it into the bathroom, where steam rolls out in thick clouds.
Falynn stands directly under the shower head, and though it could be the heavy spray of water creating an illusion, I’m certain she’s been crying. She doesn’t notice me at first. I make it to the glass door before she does. I draw it open without asking and reach inside to twist off the knobs. Her expression is one of confusion, her brows furrowed, her eyes pink. I gather her in my arms, indifferent to how her wet body soaks my shirt.
“I’msorry,” I say. My hand glides along the soft curve of her cheek. “Please forgive me.”
Her eyes well with more tears as though she’s questioning her ears. I repeat it again.
“Honey, do you believe me? I’m sorry.”
She nods and whispers, “I’m sorry too. I took off your ring…”
I kiss her. Just a quick peck I drop on her lips. “We’re going to fix this,” I tell her. “Okay, Honey? It’ll be different. I promise.”
