Chapter Forty-Five
Devious
I sit at my desk, overlooking the divorce papers that I had my lawyer print out.
I still haven’t broken things off with Roselyn because I’m having a hard time letting her go. I wish she didn’t have to suffer. She cries every night, and I can’t do anything but hold her. Watching the love of your life suffer eats at you like a disease. I need to let go of Roselyn. I did the same thing with Shelby. Tried to keep her, and I ended up suffocating her and drove her into the arms of another man. I don’t want the same outcome for me and Roselyn. I don’t want her to wake up one day, regretting being with me because I was the one who held her captive. I’m the one who forced her to marry me to pay off a debt that she didn’t create. She was just a pawn to me in the beginning. She’s too loyal for her own good, so I doubt she’ll cheat on me, but she’ll return back to the person who I first met. I want her to pick me because she wants to and not because I’m forcing her.
Roselyn is out shopping with Marla for fall clothes, so I shoot her a text message.
Me: Come home. We need to talk.
Nymph: Is everything okay?
I get up from the chair and pace the floor. How am I going to break things off with her? Since we don’t allow divorces in the mafia, I’m breaking my own oath, going against our law to grant Roselyn her wish of freedom. She doesn’t need to be tied to the mafia lifestyle. It’s too corrupt. Plus, she deserves better than me. So much better.
Thrusting my fingers through my hair, I sigh loudly. Twenty minutes later, she strolls into my study, wearing black leggings and a light sweatshirt. My eyes wander to her face as I try to remember every freckle. It’s hard not to forget a beautiful face like hers. I’m going to miss her so much. But I have to do this for both of us.
She stands on her tippy-toes, kissing my cheek. “What’s up?” She sits her giant bags on the floor. “What is it you want to talk about?”
Letting go is the hardest thing I’ll ever have to do, but it needs to be done. I stroke her cheek with my index finger. “I’m setting you free.”
I slide the divorce papers over to her, and she scans them, a crease between her brows. This is for the best. I’ll get shit from my men for divorcing her, but I don’t care. I will choose Roselyn’s happiness over the mafia any fucking time. If they have a problem with it, I’ll blow their brains out.
“What?” Her voice is shaky as she cocks her eyebrow. “What do you mean, Devious?” Then she studies my face for answers.
My pulse thumps in my neck and blood rushes to my ears. Exhaling, I say, “I’m giving you your freedom. You paid Lex’s debt off, and it’s time for you to be free. I took your virginity as payment and now that he’s dead, you don’t have to stay tied to me. You’re no longer my captive.”
She slides the paperwork back to me, plastering a fake smile across her face.
“You’re joking, right?”
“Roselyn, you’re no—”
“You’re not fucking breaking my heart! We’re going to pretend this conversation never happened.”
“My decision is final, Roselyn. I have to let you go.”
I might as well have punched her in the face, that’s how much pain registers in her expression. Her eyes brim with tears. “But I want to be with you. I—Is it because Cashel raped me? We don—.”
“No. Roselyn. It’s not that. It wasn’t your fault what happened to you. It’s my fault. I let my vengeance get the best of me, and you were caught in the cross fire.”
She’s young, so young, and has her whole life ahead of her. I’m giving her an out from this hellhole. This lifestyle. How can she think that her staying with me is good? It’s not.
“I made the same mistake with Shelby, forcing her to stay with me, and it didn’t turn out well. If I do the same thing to you, then you will eventually want to leave.” I slide the divorce papers to her again. “You want freedom, and I don’t want to hold you back. I want you to be happy. I love you, Roselyn. But I can’t hold on to someone who doesn’t want to be held on to.” Tears form at the corners of her eyes and I wipe them away. She shouldn’t waste her beautiful tears on me. “I’m not going to leave you broke. I’m giving you a fifty-thousand-dollar alimony a month for the rest of your life, and I’ll still cover your nonno’s medical bills and expenses.”
Tears run down her cheeks. “No, Devious. Please don’t do this. I want to be with you.”
“You need to live your life the way you want to and not be tied down to someone like me. I can’t give you what you want. You want to be free from the mafia and away from this lifestyle and I don’t blame you. It’s too much violence and death. I’ll give you a new name and you can go to Frankfurt in Germany or wherever you want.”
She stares at me with fear in her eyes. “You’re what I want. I don’t care about my freedom; I don’t care about my dreams. All I want is you.”
“You’re a bird who wants to spread her wings and fly, and I’m the monster who wants to rip your wings so you can’t.”
She wraps her arms around my shoulders, and I accept her embrace, resting my chin on top of her head.
I shed one single tear, and it falls down to her hair.
Her tears wet my shirt, and we stand like this for what seems like forever. Closing my eyes, I inhale deeply. She smells like brown sugar and cherries. My favorite smell. She breaks from our embrace.
“Be free, Roselyn. Do what you love and be happy. And if you don’t fall in love with anyone else, you can come back to me, if that’s what you want,” I tell her. She stares down at the floor, and I kiss her forehead. “I used to think love is the final form of forgiveness, but it’s not. Letting go of the person you love to give them what they want is love. Holding on to you is not love.” I lean down, kiss her long and hard, then pull away. “Goodbye, Roselyn.”
Exhaling, I leave the room.
Roselyn
Shock churns in my stomach. This is not fair. Life’s not fair. My husband wants to let me go, but I don’t want to be free from his cage. I want to be his little bird. I hug the divorce papers to my chest, realizing I have a shot at my freedom, at what I always wanted from the moment I learned my father was a part of the mafia. Devious is breaking his own rules so I can live my dreams. This is my first heartbreak and I don’t want to process it.
I start to hyperventilate, tears falling down my cheeks. Grabbing my phone from my pocket, I dial Marla’s phone number, and she picks it up in the third ring. She’s the only friend I can call. I know she’s Devious’s cousin, but I need someone to talk to.
“Hello?”
“Can you come pick me up?” My voice breaks. “I need a place to stay.”
I hear her turn down the music in the background. “What do you mean?”
I try to find the words to articulate what I’m trying to say, but my mind draws a blank. “Please. Come get me.”
I can’t believe Devious would do this to me—to us. After everything we shared. After everything we have been through. My chest aches as my hands tremble like leaves on a tree. I tap the red button and rush to our bedroom. I go to the walk-in closet and toss some clothes into a suitcase.
An hour later, Marla strolls into the bedroom, and she gives me a hug. She wraps her arms around my waist, using her thumbs to wipe away my tears. “What happened?”
“Devious broke up with me. He wants to make sure I want to be with him.”
“I’m sorry, Roselyn. I think he’s scared you’re going to end up hating him for trying to keep you with him.”
I fell in love with the devil. It doesn’t matter to me who he was because I saw the real him. Not just the evil side, but the good side. I use the back of my hand to wipe my tears.
“I wouldn’t,” I sigh. “I need a place to stay. Can I crash at yours until I find my own place?”
“Of course.”
With Binx in my arms, I drag my suitcase behind me, and we make it to the living room. Devious paces back and forth with one hand rubbing his forehead and the other holding his cell phone. His eyes meet mine, and we stare at each other with unspoken words between us. I try to study every inch of his face, remembering who I fell in love with. Sorrow laces his face as he frowns, and Marla says something to him in Italian. He responds back. This is the first time I’ve heard him speak his native language. I wish I learned Italian, so I can understand what they are speaking about. Another thing Papa took away from me was to never speak my native language so I wouldn’t listen to some of his conversations.
“I’ll be in the car,” I tell Marla as I go to the garage. Max grabs my suitcase, and I follow him to the garage, which he drops into the trunk of her black Mercedes. I take the divorce papers and place them on a shelf. As I climb into the seat, I strap my seat belt over my body and Binx settles on my lap. Twenty minutes later, Marla gets into the back seat, and her driver puts the car in gear, pulling into the main road. Rain sprinkles on the windshield. I watch as my home gets smaller and smaller, and before I know it, I’m crying uncontrollably.