Chapter Thirty-Two
“You never go to bed thinking you’ll wake up and it will be better because oftentimes, it’s so much worse than you could possibly imagine.” —King Campisi
Ivan
Most nights ended up that way, with us talking but avoiding the questions we both knew I couldn’t answer.
For the next week, at least, I had the great privilege of holding her and memorizing the sound of a voice I used to hate, only to come to the conclusion it would be the last thing I heard when I left this earth. A gift.
I held her.
She actually let me.
And things became almost unspoken, she never asked me a question she knew I wouldn’t answer, and I only answered in truth and told her when I couldn’t.
I’d like to say that my insane spending was pulling people out of the woodwork, that we knew more now that the whole tattoo thing came up, but the only lead we had on the tattoo was from years ago when the De Langes were working with the Russians.
Which only brought in more bosses, more Families, more drama, and more intense family dinners.
Exhibit A.
“Stop!” Andrei yelled at his daughter. “He’s your husband!”
Santino blinked over at Andrei. “Cheers.”
“I’m sorry. She can’t help it. She clearly has my temper.” Andrei agreed.
Phoenix sighed and poured more wine. “Like father like daughter.”
“I think that was an insult?” I offered.
All eyes fell on me.
I needed an escape.
I didn’t want to do this anymore, to hide in plain sight.
Knowing what I knew.
Sitting at family dinner.
Staring across at the familiar faces that saved my life, saved my bloodline despite trying to annihilate it so many times—knowing the truth.
The truth.
Seeing the documents.
Pouring over the videos for days.
Feeling the pressure of resurrection in a way that I’d never fully realized until I went to reach for a roll, only to have Phoenix steal it from me and stare me down like he knew I knew his secrets.
He bit into his slowly.
I chomped mine down and shrugged like I didn’t give a shit.
But I knew.
The heaviness of it was overwhelming. What the hell was I supposed to do? I wasn’t a hero. They’d painted me a monster worth saving since I was cooperating and trying to find the rats in my own Family and now, I was supposed to somehow keep living a lie with a girl I actually cared for by my side.
She had no idea how much it helped, knowing she was there, but it also gave me nothing but shame.
I used her. Easily.
I provoked her on purpose.
And now I wanted what? A prize? A hug from her? The right to touch her? All because my feelings caught on fire and the world ran out of water to put it out?
She reached for her wine, her fingers shaking a bit when she grabbed it. Frowning, I put my hand on her thigh, causing her to apparently choke on her first sip.
I slid her white skirt up her thigh and traced. “U Ok?” with my fingers.
She grabbed my hand and wrote. “Tired.”
I pulled her hand into my lap and started slowly rubbing my thumb over her fingers, then reached for my own wine and purposefully spilled it all over my food and my pants. “I am so clumsy.”
I wasn’t an actor, may as well just let them assume I wanted Nixon’s daughter all to myself for a few hours.
I jumped up and grabbed Bella. “We’ll go get some stuff to clean up.”
King snorted into his orange juice while Ash shook his head and nodded toward Nixon, who had murder in his eyes.
At this point we had three tables, the younger ones were at those other tables, but the bosses always sat at the main one.
Yay me.
I shrugged. “I mean, if that’s okay with you, Nixon. I would hate to upset you by taking my wife to get cleaned up after spilling wine all over the table.”
“Wife.” Ash repeated.
Not helpful.
It just reminded Nixon of all the things he didn’t know, which made him want to murder.
“Actually…” King jumped to his feet. “…I have to chat with you really quick, why don’t you send Bella to the bathroom while we go out back.”
Shit.
The plan was to leave with her, not leave her alone to suffer in silence, a few weeks ago I would have spilled on her in order to get a rise out of her or you know get her to start swearing in front of her dad.
“It’s fine.” Serena spoke up for the first time at the dinner table. “I’ll help her.”
She practically fled from the table after putting Bam-Bam in Nixon’s arms and kissing him on the head. Classic. He held out the toddler and sighed while Bam-Bam smacked him on the head.
Best kid ever.
I excused myself while everyone continued their talking and followed King down the hall while keeping my eyes on Bella and Serena as they went to the bathroom.
“Wow,” King said from ahead of me. “Weeks ago, you were watching her in order to find ways to tackle her to the floor.” He frowned. “I guess you’re still wanting to tackle her, but for entirely different reasons. Tell me, how is it being a eunuch? I’ve always been curious.”
“Screw off.” I shoved past him and opened the door to the back. We were at Phoenix’s house, which just happened to have the perfect apple orchard surrounding it.
Rumor had it that the apples were poison, and that the orchard was built as a maze for hunting—the human sort, where you set the double-crossed person free and give them a few minutes to run or hide.
Hilarious, though I wouldn’t want to be stuck out there.
King started walking toward the first part of the maze. Confused, I kept following him, I’d never been that deep in.
“Found some things out,” he said, walking faster and faster. “But I figured you probably already knew that.”
“What’s this about?” I asked.
“Every man with a tattoo, according to our intel, has one thing in common.”
I was afraid to ask. “Does it have to do with having the same last name?”
I was kidding. He didn’t laugh.
“Your boy talked,” King said. “Just like you said he would if we offered to sweep it under the rug and get him away from the Family for good, with his family.”
I nodded. “Good. I assume that you told him I was the bad guy in this scenario and paid him off with Campisi money.”
“Better.” King ducked under a tree branch and kept walking. “I paid them off with Abandonato money, be sure to thank your father-in-law for that, in order to make you look even weaker, you’re welcome.”
“Ah, what did that set Dad back?”
“Meh, three mil, he’ll barely notice it’s missing, but I’d stay away from the house for a while because he knows you’re the only one brave enough to access any of his funds.”
“I mean, we are married, what’s his is mine, right?” I joked.
“Yeah, please say that again, to his face, while he chases you around this orchard, I would pay to watch that.”
“My death?”
“You’d survive for at least fifteen minutes, I’ve thought about this before.”
“My death?”
“Nah, surviving Phoenix’s crazy house.”
I sighed as we walked into what looked like at least eight rows of thick poplar trees, the kind that were used in front of fields to block the wind and dust, were laid out.
King moved sideways through two of them. “Watch your head, and there might be spiders.”
“Perfect.”
“Kills in cold blood, still hates spiders.”
I laughed. “Kills in cold blood, still scared of his wife.”
King glared.
“What?” I grinned. “It’s true.”
“She’s fierce, not scary.” He pointed out. “And don’t tell her I said that.”
We walked through the eighth aisle until a small house came into view. It was maybe six hundred square feet and almost looked like an old logging cabin.
I crossed my arms. “So, you really are here to kill me and bury the body?”
“Nah, I just had a present for you, and I didn’t want anyone to hear the screams, have fun, I’ll send clean up later, but I figured this was the easiest way to prove your worth. You’re the boss, now act like it and send them scrambling back to theirs with a message.”
“What do they all have in common?” I asked while King started looking away. “Other than they’re all De Langes.”
King sighed and looked down at the grassy dirt. “They originally used to be personal bodyguards.”
My stomach lurched. “To whom?”
“Mil De Lange.”
And with that chipper news, he left.