Chapter Thirty-Eight
Roselyn
I need to figure out a way to tell Devious that I love him. I’ve been putting it off for two weeks and every time I try to work up the courage to tell him, I get tongue-tied and stumble over my words. I’ve never been in love, so I don’t know how I’m supposed to tell someone that I love them. I never expected to fall in love with anyone because marriages in the mafia aren’t built on love.
I lay my head on his stomach, watching the rain tap against the floor-to-ceiling window in our bedroom. “Have you ever danced in the rain?”
He shakes his head. The muscles in his jaw tighten. “Why would I do that? I could get sick.”
I lift my chin, glancing up at him. “Because Mama told me it cleanses the soul, and we used to do it all the time, when Papa wasn’t around. Trust me, you’ll feel a lot better afterward.”
His eyes venture to my breasts before he gets out of the bed, putting on his nightclothes.
“Fine.”
I grab my shoes, sliding them on and tying up the black laces. “You need to have fun. All you do is work and kill people.”
He rolls his eyes. “It’s not what I always do. I also fuck you. Fucking is fun.” He tilts his head sideways.
I open the front door, and the rain instantly wets my face. The light from the water fountain lights up the dark sky. Glancing up, the rain falls freely from the sky. The slick, black pavement is beautiful. Memories of my mother barge into my mind. We did a lot of things behind Papa’s back because he wouldn’t allow her to have a lot of freedom. He hated that we used to play in the rain, and he would complain about us getting the floors wet. I miss Mama so much, especially around her birthdays and the holidays.
Devious stands there with his hands in his pockets, staring outside. I want to keep her memory alive as much as possible. Even though Papa didn’t give two shits about her, it doesn’t mean I didn’t care about her.
“Oh, stop being such a baby and get in the rain,” I say to him, tugging on his arm.
“Fine, but if I get sick, I’m bending you over my knee and giving you a spanking.”
“You need to pick another form of punishment because I like spankings. You have to dance. Besides, germs make you sick, not the rain.”
He grabs me by the waist, pulling me close, like how we were dancing at the restaurant the day of Enzo’s funeral.
This time it is different. This time he is different. His blue eyes brighten, and the cool drops of rain continue to lick our skin. It’s so beautiful. He’s so beautiful. Being in this moment with Devious means everything to me. He means everything to me. I try not to think about the what-ifs because our lifestyle is dangerous, and I know anything can happen to us. I want to find something wrong with our situation and why we can’t have a great love life. Devious tells me all the time that Enzo and his wife were a happy couple. Very happy, and Nonno was happy with Nonna. It’s why Nonno tells me stories about how he loved her.
I lay my head on his chest, and he rests his chin on the top of my head.
“This is the most awkward shit I’ve ever done,” he says in my ear.
“Well, get used to doing awkward shit with me for the rest of your life.”
“I wouldn’t have it any other way,” he says.
In this moment, I realize that I love Devious and I decided long ago that I wasn’t going to escape him. I decided a while ago to get him to fall in love me so I can betray him, but the plan backfired in my face. I’m the one getting my feelings involved. Now, I feel guilty for my plans.
“I think I love you, Cayden.”
He frowns, but he doesn’t respond.
Fear slithers in my bloodstream, and doubt makes its way into my brain. He’s still in love with Shelby, and I don’t want to love him. My heart stops beating. I stop and glance at Devious. His dark hair sticks to his forehead, and the rain stops. He stops dancing and cups my cheeks, staring into my eyes.
“Do you still love her? Is it why you haven’t said it back?”
He takes a step back, shoving his hands in his pockets. “Good way to kill the mood, Roselyn.”
“I’m serious.” I stay on his heels as we enter the house. Our clothes soak the floor, and our shoes squeak. We remove our shirts and pants, tossing them to the floor.
Disgust mars his face, and he wrinkles the corner of his mouth. “Why the fuck do you think I’m still in love with Shelby?”
“You didn’t say it back.” My voice grows louder.
“You didn’t say you love me. You said you think,” he shoots back.
Unable to process my feelings, I fold my arms across my chest, rocking back and forth on my heels. Suddenly my heart sinks and I need to ask him something that I’ve been thinking for a long time.
“Did you start a war with the Irish mob because of Shelby? Because Cashel and Shelby were having an affair?
He looks at the marble floor then back at me. “Yes. I did.”
“Do you miss her?”
“I was with her for thirteen years.”
Insecurity sinks to the bottom of my stomach. His words sting. They really do. He shouldn’t miss someone who hurt him the way she did. I need to know he’s all mine.
“That’s not what I asked you. I asked if you miss her.” I sigh. “If she were alive, who would you choose, me or her?”
“Shut the fuck up, Roselyn Vitali. You know you’re the only woman for me. Stop being insecure about our relationship. It’s pissing me off.”
“You didn’t answer my question.”
I’m not going to compete with a dead girl, and I feel like he’s chasing a ghost, trying to right his wrong for what she and Cashel did. Honestly, I don’t think he will love me the way that he loves her, and I’ll never fully have his heart.
“Let me tell you something, I don’t have to answer to you. No one told you to fall in love with me, Roselyn.”
Tears stream down my cheeks. I’m just a debt, a business contract, and his captive. I feel dumb and stupid. I thought I had his heart and that I could get through to him, but he’s the same cruel person I met in the beginning of our relationship. I should have run when I had the chance, but I stayed because I’m a stupid woman who was craving the love of a man who will never love her back. Looking into his eyes, I can see his walls are going back up. I misread everything between us.
“You were a means to pay off a debt,” he murmurs.
His words are a blow to my chest.
I slap him across the face. “I want a divorce.”
“You’re not getting one.”
I beat my fist on his chest. “I don’t want to be with you anymore.”
“We we—”
The door flies open, and a bald-headed guy with an auburn goatee glares at us. Five other men stand behind him with their guns aimed at us. He marches up to Devious and punches him in the face.
“Where the fuck is Maya?”