Chapter 24 Rome
TWENTY-FOUR
ROME
Flashback
Julianna was the last one to hold her before they took her away.
She was swaddled in one of those hospital baby blankets. The one I’ve seen in movies. White with tiny blue and pink stripes. The blanket was ten times her size and swallowed her up. But the feeling I had when holding my own daughter was indescribable.
She had her nose. My eyes.
Besides Julianna, I’d never fallen in love with someone so fast. It felt as effortless as breathing.
But I’ve also never experienced this much pain and heartbreak.
It’s raw and excruciating. A searing agony that won’t go away caused by holding your own child— one that never had the opportunity to draw their first breath or feel the love of the two people in the world who would have burned down the world to protect them.
It’s been three days since Julianna and I left the hospital without our daughter.
Five months into her pregnancy, she’d called me, panicked, saying she was in a debilitating amount of pain.
We’d met outside of the city and raced to the closest hospital we knew others wouldn’t be able to recognize us.
Considering our marriage was a secret, we’d kept her pregnancy a secret as well.
With only being five months along, it was easy for Julianna to conceal her growing stomach from our families.
We’d agreed to tell them about us at the end of the month.
My plan was in place. I secured enough investments of my own outside of my father’s business dealings to build my own business empire. I slowly backed off accompanying him on his errands and, for the most part, he hasn’t questioned me. But that isn’t to say I haven’t come out unscathed.
Especially now that we’ve lost our daughter for inexplicable reasons.
These things happen is what the doctor said.
I wanted to fucking kill him right then and there.
I’m washing the drops of dried blood from my hands, scrubbing them until they’re raw, but my mind isn’t only on the dead man it belongs to.
It’s on my wife and our daughter. A daughter I’ll never get to hold again.
A wife I’ve yet to live a normal life with outside of the bubble we’ve created at the cabin.
Although we’ve both graduated high school, it’s increasingly apparent our lives aren’t as easy to walk away from as we hoped.
Case in point, the blood splatter on my hands after watching my father shoot his victim between the eyes.
Once I’ve washed my shaking hands, I pour a large glass of whiskey and toss it back before tugging my phone from my back pocket.
I haven’t talked to Julianna since this morning and it’s killing me to not be with her right now.
She’s the only person I need, but she told me she wouldn’t be able to escape her dad until after a planned dinner with her father’s colleagues.
It’s taken everything in me not to scream at how helpless I feel. If I’m in this much pain, I can’t imagine what Julianna is going through. And she’s doing it alone.
Aside from a message from Kiernan about a going away party he’s hosting tonight, there isn’t one from Julianna.
I drop my phone and skip the glass this time, fisting the glass decanter of whiskey. I toss it back, allowing it to burn my throat and settle into my empty, disgusted stomach until there’s nothing left.
My father’s apartment in the city is empty. My mother is out and my father is still at one of his warehouses, taking care of his mess. Not even Marcus or our staff are here to keep me company.
Like Julianna, I’m alone.
The air inside our large penthouse is too much. I can’t breathe, so I undo the button around the collar of my white button-down shirt. I can’t stay here when all I’m haunted by is the sight of my wife’s shattered heart and the memory of holding a daughter I’ll never get to see again.
By the time I step into the elevator and stab the button for the lobby, I know I’m drunk.
The whiskey has settled into my veins and the line of cocaine my father insisted I take earlier has only intensified.
Stumbling out of the elevator, I push through the revolving door and out into the bustling streets of New York City.
How is it possible to be surrounded by millions of people yet still feel utterly alone, left to rot in your own torment?
I don’t even bother calling for my driver or Marcus, instead taking a right and heading for Kiernan’s apartment three blocks over. I’m stumbling and weaving through the crowds, hoping this pain will just go away. There’s this black hole deep inside my chest growing like a deadly virus.
I drag my finger along the wings of the lark wrapped around my neck. Tears build behind my eyes, my lungs starving for air. It feels as if I’m slowly decaying, my soul dying with every agonizing second without Julianna and our daughter.
When I look up, I swear I must be hallucinating.
Air returns to my lungs when I see her. My wife.
She’s sitting inside a small restaurant I’ve passed a million times without a second look.
Stopping on the pavement, I catch my breath and smooth my hand over my face.
She’s in public, and I’ve never once approached her like this.
I’m drunk and high. A complete mess. But so is she, and I don’t give a single fuck.
She’s my wife, and we just lost our fucking baby.
Her eyes are vacant, transfixed on the empty plate in front of her.
I can tell she’s been crying. Her usual bright eyes are red-lined and sunken in.
Her pretty mouth is set into a permanent frown, and my arms ache to hold her.
I step forward to open the door to the restaurant but stop cold when William Trent sits down in the empty chair opposite Julianna.
I only recognize the asshole because I searched him up after Julianna told me her father has relentlessly tried to set them up on dates before.
Her blue eyes lift when he sits down, and so does her smile.
The dark venomous virus building in my chest spreads to every one of my limbs.
I stumble backward, the sight of my wife on a date with someone else, in public, without fear, knocks me off my feet.
My world spins, and I can’t tell what’s up or down.
I just want it to end. My head pounds and I stumble backward until I’m out of sight of Julianna and Will.
I can’t watch them talk and laugh, free from the burden of family vendettas and generations-long hatred.
I haven’t doubted my love for Julianna until now. Was this all some sick dream? A fantasy that could never evolve into reality?
The alcohol and drugs in my system propel me to put as much distance between them and me as possible. I don’t know how it happens, but I make it to Kiernan’s penthouse.
I’m a zombie. A shell of the man I’ve dreamed of becoming.
Maybe I am just a product of Dominico Montgomery, never meant to love anyone or live a happy life. I don’t have my wife. I don’t have my daughter. I don’t have a real family.
I only have me.
Shoving my way through the party goers packed into Kiernan’s apartment, I search for a drink.
Along the way, I bump shoulders with Kiernan.
He tries to make small talk, but I cut him off with a question.
I can’t understand the words coming out of dry mouth.
It feels as if I’ve eaten a fistful of cotton.
It must be coherent enough because he answers, then grabs my hand and lifts it between us, sprinkling white powder across the back of it. Before walking away, he claps my shoulder and shoves a bottle of beer at my chest. I manage to catch it with my free hand before it slips to the floor.
Kiernan has always been such a prick, but at least he swooped in when I needed something else to numb the pain.
The line of white powder on the back of my hand spins before I lazily bring it up to my nose.
I’m so numb, I don’t even feel the usual burn and sting that comes with snorting a line of cocaine.
Afterward, my eyes stay locked on my hand and my bare finger.
I wear my ring only when it’s safe. At this point, though, who gives a fuck?
I pull my ring from my pocket and slip it over my fourth finger. It takes several attempts before I manage to slip it on. My heart smashes into a million pieces.
My phone vibrates in my pocket as I chase the cocaine with the entire bottle of beer.
Once I’ve swallowed the fizzy liquid, I pull my cell out. There’s an unread message.
It’s from Julianna.
“Lark,” I mumble out loud. Tiny, blurry dots scatter my vision, making it difficult to read her message. But after a few seconds, the text comes into focus.
Lark: Left dinner early. Where are you?
I rock back on my heels before righting myself and type out a reply.
Me: Kiernan’s.
Dropping my phone back into my pocket, I gather the strength to lift my head and look up.
Evidently, I’m not in the living room anymore.
I’m in a dark hallway, the music coming from the main party area vibrating through my feet.
Blue and white lights dance across the walls, and I sway, catching myself before falling over.
I slap the wall, and emerging from the other end of the hallway is a woman with dark brown hair and eyes shimmering in the dark.
“Lark,” I mutter, fighting to keep my eyes open. “I’m so sorry.”
“Rome?” the woman shouts, her voice loud and not at all comforting.
I force my eyes open wider, and it finally hits me who it is. “Macy.” I deadpan. “I thought you were someone else.”
“That’s okay.” She perks up, her tight ponytail bobbing back and forth as she tilts her head. She closes the gap between us, and my back hits the wall.
Her body presses against mine, and I try to lift my heavy hands to push her off, but it’s no use.
She must stand on her toes because she brings her mouth close to mine. Close enough for me to hear her clearer than anyone else I’ve run into since being here.
“I can be someone else for you,” she purrs. “If that’s what you want.” Her mouth is dangerously close to mine, and my world is spinning.
What the fuck?
Everything in me is screaming to push her away. The sickness brewing in me bubbles over. I want to vomit.
"Macy,” I mumble. “I’m marri—”
Shit, the beer has done absolutely nothing for my dry mouth. My tongue feels like its ten times its normal size.
“You’re what, Montgomery?” She doesn’t offer me the opportunity to answer before she’s touching me. One hand is on my torso while the other slides teasingly up the length of my thigh.
Pressing my lips into a tight line, I slam my head back against the wall and huff a heated breath through my nose. Every move feels like exhausting work.
People pass us without offering a second glance.
Macy doesn’t give two fucks that we aren’t alone.
With a racing heart, I fight my body’s unwillingness to move, and the reaction she’s trying to painfully pull out of me.
Macy pins me to the wall with her body, and the familiar scent of her perfume consumes me. It’s sharp and pungent.
Nothing like Julianna.
“Macy.” I lift my hands to her shoulders, hoping my body will finally start working properly. “We can’t.”
“I’ve missed you, Rome,” she coos, ignoring me. “Kiss me. Fuck me.”
Lifting her chin, she tries to press her lips to mine, but my hands are on her shoulders, doing their best to push her away. I’m weak. So fucking weak.
Macy’s mouth ghosts mine and then I hear, “Rome?”
I roll my head against the wall, turning away from Macy’s mouth, and my name comes from the end of the hallway again, only louder and stronger this time.
“Rome!”
A familiar silhouette stands at the end of the hallway. Dark brown hair and shining blue eyes. They’re slanted in anger and hurt as they dart back and forth between Macy and me.
“Ju…” I breathe out, swallowing the sour bile in my throat. “Julianna.”
I shove at Macy again. She hasn’t moved, despite Julianna staring directly at us.
“How could you, Rome?” Julianna shouts. Her eyebrows relax.
It’s as if she’s pulled me out of a deep slumber.
She takes an uneasy step back, her hand flying to her stomach. Her tear-filled eyes drop to my feet like she’s unable to look me in the face.
“Lark, wait.” I work the words around my tongue, trying to get them out.
Julianna’s jaw clenches and her hands form into fists at her side. With a cutting glare that slices me open, she lifts her chin. “I hate you.” Her body vibrates and her bottom lip quivers. “I hate you.”
Then she’s gone, slipping into the crowd behind her.
“Lark!” I shout over the pounding music.
Macy doesn’t seem to care that Julianna has interrupted us or gotten the hint I’m not even fucking remotely interested. Her hand slips over my thigh and straight to my dick. Inhaling a sharp breath, I push her off.
She flies back, screaming at me through the heavy music, but my feet are already carrying me in the direction of Julianna.
“Lark!” I shout, pushing and elbowing my way through the crowd, standing on my toes every few steps to find where she is. I catch the dark red, velvet ribbon tied to the back of her head on the opposite side of the room. “Julianna!”
The sea of people dancing and socializing around me stop long enough to look over their shoulders. I don’t give a fuck if they hear me calling Julianna’s name out loud. My wife is far from my enemy, and I don’t give a shit who knows it.
There’s entirely too much distance between us.
“Julianna!” I yell again, desperate to not lose her. I can’t lose her, too.
I’m panicking, fighting through the nausea as I make my way to the front of the apartment. When I step out into the hallway, I crane my neck in both directions.
Julianna’s gone.
My legs are weak, and my world spins. I fall back against the wall and work to catch my breath.
Black clouds ebb my vision as I look up at the ceiling, a sense of hopelessness coming over me.
Sliding against the wall, I fall like an anchor into the sea.
My face smashes against the marble floor and I stare blankly at the wall across from me, ignoring the intense pain blooming across my cheek.
The black clouds forming at the edges of my vision grow until, eventually, that’s all I see. Then I let it consume me, dragging me straight to oblivion.