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“Right,” I say to Gianni with a tight smile. “And you’re right about being too soft. I won’t be doing that anymore.”
“I didn’t say you were soft. You are careful and there’s nothing wrong with wanting to keep the peace here, but sometimes in order to have peace, you have to fight through chaos.” Gianni spins on his heel and walks away, leaving me alone in the office.
I drop my head in my hands, “Fuck.” Maybe Carmine made the wrong decision. Maybe Matias would have been a better leader. He wouldn’t have let the threat of Bianchi go on for so long.
“Are you going to talk to me?”
Rosie’s voice cuts through my pity-party and my heart pumps a little louder when I finally hear her speak to me for the first time in days.
I don’t say anything, knowing I’m making the wrong decision, but she has to know I’m doing what’s best for her.
“Talk to me, Ari. Talk. To. Me.” She marches into the room and slams the door. “You are being an asshole.”
I narrow my eyes at her in warning and she scoffs, looking me up and down.
“You don’t get to be upset with me. You don’t get to question me when I curse at you because I have so many things I want to say.”
“Rosie—”
“—Oh! Oh, he speaks. Do you know what you’ve put me through the last few weeks? Do you know how alone I’ve been? We have an amazing night together. I thought we were building something and then the next morning I wake up and it’s like you were a whole new person. You haven’t even looked at me.”
I slam my hand on the desk and stand abruptly. The chair rolls back and hits the bookcase. “I look at you. I look at you every chance I fucking get. You think this is easy for me? Do you think I like having to do what I’m doing? I’m doing this for you.”
She sneers with disgust, swiping her arm across my desk and papers go flying. “Don’t you dare act like you’re doing this for me. Don’t you dare act like you aren’t a selfish son-of-a-bitch. You’re doing this for you.”
“That is the second time—”
“—I don’t give a fuck, Ari. I’ll do it again and again because when this conversation is over, you aren’t going to be able to do anything about it depending on how this ends. You are the one pulling away from me. You are the one who left me high and dry. You are the one keeping me locked in here—”
Fury bursts free from me. “Because I am keeping you safe! I am keeping you alive. Don’t forget who is out there looking for you. I am the one who came to you to keep you safe, remember? I am the one protecting you!” I pick up a snow globe that’s been sitting at the edge of the desk for years and toss it. The glass shatters against the wall, the water inside it drips down in rivulets, and Rosie doesn’t move an inch.
She’s fearless in ways that will get her killed.
Just like when she went into the club and ended up killing a man. She had no idea what she was doing, and that kind of recklessness will get her killed.
“You’re killing me.” She wraps her cardigan around herself tighter. “This isolation that you have somehow forced me into is killing me. I’m on a fucking island. The days are blending together. I don’t bother looking at the clock anymore because time doesn’t matter. My only lifeline was my family, and they are gone because I sacrificed myself for their happiness. I always sacrificed for them. I was never happy and finally, I thought…” She scoffs lightly, her arm dropping to her side after waving her hands around while she speaks. “I thought I had found happiness with you, even if it started out superficial. You made this decision on your own. You decided this without talking to me to figure out what I wanted.”
“What you want doesn’t matter,” I say harshly, leaning forward and spreading my palms across the table.
My words have her flinching as if I hit her which only breaks my heart further. I sigh, rubbing the back of my neck when the muscles begin to tighten and ache. “You need to understand why I’m doing this.”
“Nothing you say will make me understand why you’re acting like this because it goes against everything you’ve said to me over the last few weeks. You kept saying I was yours that…if I was pregnant, we’d be yours.”
Her eyes swim with tears, filled to the brim and I reach out for her, but she steps away from me, taking a piece of my heart with her.
“You lied,” she whispers, the words an emotional croak.
I run around the desk, slipping on a piece of paper on the floor and catching her wrist with my fingers. She fights me. She pulls and tugs, using her weight to set herself free.
“Let go of me,” she seethes through clenched teeth.
“Not until you hear me. Not until you listen.”
She rips herself from me, breaking our hold and she pushes against my chest so hard, my lower back hits the desk.
It surprisingly hurt.
“Fuck you!” Her eyes shine with hurt but her tongue twists with hate.
