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I stare at him. "That would mean making it even more difficult for her to pursue her career as an actress."
"There are actresses who’ve had children," he points out.
"That profession is so fickle, and having children means she’d have to devote time to them, time that would take her away from following her dream."
"She’s deferring it, not giving it up."
I scowl at him. "You sound like you’ve given this some thought."
"Unlike you, I don’t have a heart." He tosses back the whiskey and places his glass on the table with a thunk. "And no, I’ve never been in a situation where I needed to strategize to keep a woman tied to me. All I did was think it through logically."
"Is that what you would do if you were in my situation?"
His lips twist. "Your woman is the most important thing to you, above anything else, right?"
I nod.
"You value her life more than her career, more than her right to choose, am I right?"
I glance away.Do I?She already hates me. Would I risk alienating her completely by binding her to me in this fashion? And then, she’ll always be safe. And she’ll be happy. I’ll make sure she’s happy.
I turn to JJ. "What do we do next?"
49
Olivia
I found a mall that opened early in London and made it there with my security in tow. Thank God for early morning shoppers. You would think seven a.m. was a little too early to buy clothes and shoes, but apparently not, for there was enough traffic in the hallways of the mall to help me in my quest. I snuck into a clothes shop, ducked behind a display, grabbed a few T-shirts and headed for the changing rooms at the back. There was no one there, so I ducked into the employees’ exit and took the service elevator down. Then I ran to my car and peeled out of the parking lot.
Now, I race the car down the motorway that leads out of London. I watch the side mirror, but I can’t see the car that followed me to the mall. Some of the tension drains out of my shoulders. I did it. I gave them the slip. Also, I’m not too worried because Alvaro gave Massimo forty-eight hours to pay the money. That should buy me enough time to, at least, begin to figure things out. I hope.
I fiddle with the radio, find a station that plays rock tunes, then make sure to keep under the speed limit. The last thing I need is a speeding ticket. With every mile that I leave the city behind, the rigidity in my body eases. I sing along to a classic rock anthem, “Smooth Up in Ya”by the Bullet Boys—a song my brother introduced me to. It’s one of the few things we bonded over. He loved rock anthems, and I loved to listen to them with him. This was before he grew up and decided he was going to become a typical Mafia man, right down to his attitude toward women.
And is my husband any different? Massimo isn’t Diego, that’s for sure. He’s not as uncaring, or as heartless. Oh, he is as much of a Mafioso, but he’d never barter a woman to the likes of Alvaro. No, he only engineered things so he could force me to marry him. And I can’t help but feel that he did it because he wanted me so much. Even if I’m still angry with him about it, maybe I should have told him I needed some space. But would he ever have allowed me to drive out on my own? Of course, not. He’s so possessive; and I admit, I do find it hot. But it also worries me that I like it so much. He told me he doesn’t want me to hurt myself because it’d be like hurting him, because I’m a part of him, and while that’s probably the most romantic thing anyone has ever told me, it’s also alarming. I don’t want to get swallowed up by his dominance. I don’t want to be so dazzled by his charisma that I forget who I am and what I want out of life, what I’ve sacrificed to get this far.
No, I did the right thing. I just need space and time to think. To figure things out. And I can’t do that when I’m with him or under his roof, surrounded by reminders of his presence. I need some perspective on everything that’s happened.
I also need to figure out birth control. He’s been using condoms, but it’s best to be doubly protected. If I become pregnant now… I shake my head. Having Massimo’s baby, a boy or girl who looks like both of us? Am I ready to be a mother, when I haven’t even managed to get my career off the ground?
It would have been so much easier if he hadn’t gotten engaged to my sister. If I’d met him again, under different circumstances... I still wouldn’t have been able to stop myself from sleeping with him. And then… I would have forced myself to walk away from him. No wonder he made sure I married him.
If only I weren’t so angry with him. If only I weren’t already in love with him.
My foot slips off the gas and the car slows down. The car behind me honks, then veers around and drives past, the driver not looking very pleased. I keep my speed at half of what it was. I’m in love withhim?
I’m inlovewith him.
Maybe a part of me always knew it, but didn’t want to accept it. And it’s not just about the sex, either. Although that last performance by him most certainly deserves an Oscar. I snicker. Ugh, bad pun, but you know what I mean.
Perhaps I fell for him that first night, when I heard his voice at the bar, even before I saw him, as he growled,you’ve had enough. The first time I smelled that spice and citrus and smoky firewood scent of his. The first time he ordered me to call out his name when I came. When he compared my muscles to liquid gold. When I walked into Solene’s engagement party and tripped into him, after being sure I’d never see him again. When I was injured and half-conscious, with the painkillers still in my system, and I heard his voice asking me to come back to him. Later, when I woke up in the hospital, and the first thing I saw was his features.
When he believed I could still be an actress, despite the scar on my face. When he saved me from the fate my brother had planned for me. When I walked down the aisle toward him... Or maybe, when he moved countries to be with me?
He’s shown me he’s the kind of husband my father never could be for my mother. He’s been in my corner, every step of the way. And I keep coming back to the fact that he shot my brother, who’d have married me off to a monster, then maimed said monster, who dared to touch me; it endeared him to me further.
But really, before all of that, I was his the first time I set eyes on him. Only, I’ve been fighting him every step of the way. Does love-at-first-sight even exist? Because it sure as hell feels like I’m living it. I reach over, turn off the radio, and keep driving.
How can I feel so strongly for him, yet not want to acknowledge it? Are my prejudices about the Mafia so ingrained that I’d risk running into those who could harm me, rather than staying with the one man who’d give his life to protect me? Am I so focused on holding onto my independence that I’m willing to compromise my safety for it? This... It makes no sense. I make no sense.
