Chapter 26 Julianna #2
“I’m sorry.” I blink rapidly, pressing my fingers to my forehead. “I’m confused. How exactly are we related? And your dad was the one who ordered my mother’s murder?”
“Really, you should talk to Holt for all the details about your mother’s murder. I’ve moved on and made my peace with it. He has as well.” He sighs again. “But to answer your first question, we’re cousins. Your mother was my father’s sister.”
“Holy shit,” Rome blurts out.
My chest tightens and my vision blurs. I can’t think straight.
Rhys O’Connell, head of the Irish mafia, is my fucking cousin, and my brother didn’t feel it necessary to tell me.
I’m still working on breathing properly when Rome’s hand lands on my thigh again. His fingers press into my flesh, pulling me back from losing it altogether.
He mouths, “I love you,” and, “It’s okay.”
It’s all I need in this moment to keep me from falling apart.
“I assume you didn’t call just to tell Julianna something you assumed Holt had already told her about you being family,” Rome points out.
“No, I didn’t.” Rhys’s tone changes. “As I said earlier, once I found out Julianna was your wife, your business became mine. I was already searching for the ones behind Tobias’s murder and came across this piece of information in the process.
It made this news even more important to share with you. ”
Knowing Rhys was tracking down the man after us all this time is oddly comforting.
“Wait.” Rome pauses. “How did you find out about us being married?”
“It’s a simple matter of public record, Montgomery,” Rhys answers, annoyed. “Honestly, considering the social status of the two of you, I’m not sure how you managed to keep this quiet all these years. Now, moving on to the reason I called.”
Rome and I hold our breath.
“My work isn’t complete, but I tracked down the other man who tried to kill you. Check the message I just sent.”
A message box appears at the top of Rome’s phone.
He clicks on it, and both of us immediately blanche at the picture of a man tied to a chair in what looks like some sort of abandoned warehouse.
One arm is tied behind him, the other resting in his lap.
There’s the familiar Montgomery snake tattoo wrapped around his arm.
He’s drenched in blood and his throat is slit from ear to ear.
My hand flies to my mouth to keep myself from vomiting. I squeeze my eyes shut, wishing I hadn’t looked.
“What the fuck, Rhys?” Rome exclaims. “A little warning would have been nice.”
“Not really my style,” he clips out in response. “But I need you to look again. Do you recognize this asshole?”
I crack my eyes open to see Rome bringing his phone closer to his face, studying the image of the dead man on his screen.
“No,” he answers, pressing his lips together in thought before asking, “Why? Am I supposed to?”
“Before I slit his throat, I managed to get a little information out of him.”
Rome clicks out of the picture and looks at me. “What information?”
“His name was Elia Mattia. His brother Enzo was the one who murdered Tobias. Both were instructed to kill you under the direction of Francesco Ferrari.”
“Oh, shit.” Rome falls back against the chair and runs a hand through his hair, pushing it off his forehead.
“Who is that?” I ask meekly.
“Francesco Ferrari is head of the Italian mafia in Italy,” Rome answers.
“Oh.” I blink rapidly, the heaviness of this moment weighing on me.
“Why would Francesco want Julianna and I killed?” Rome asks Rhys. “He isn’t a Montgomery, and as far as I knew, my father and him were cordial. Not quite friends but certainly not enemies.”
“See.” Rhys tuts in disapproval. “This is where you lose me, Montgomery. I have no interest in the feuds between the Italians. I don’t give a single fuck.
All I care about is the fact that these fuckers killed Tobias, then tried to kill my cousin.
I’m not one to usually make these sorts of calls, but considering the circumstances, I made this one out of courtesy. ”
“Courtesy meaning letting us know the man after us is dead,” Rome states, sounding far away, like he’s lost while trying to wrap his mind around these revelations.
“Yes,” Rhys answers. “And the fact I took care of him for you.”
“Thank you,” Rome mutters, almost as if it pains him to say it.
“What about Francesco Ferrari?” I ask, tightening my grip around Rome’s hand on my thigh.
“I’ll take care of Francesco,” Rhys answers quickly.
I look at Rome with tears in my eyes. A mixture of emotions fill my chest: relief, anger, confusion, fear, safety. It’s a pendulum of feelings passing over me in waves.
“My work is done here,” Rhys says, cutting the silence. “Well, as far as the Montgomerys are concerned. Go live happily ever after or some shit.”
Rome smirks, catching my attention.
I can’t help a brief smile playing on my lips, either. Again, a pendulum of emotions.
Rhys ends the call, and Rome immediately deletes the photo Rhys sent him. Once he’s done, he drops his phone back on the table and sits up.
“Lark, I…”
“You don’t have to say anything.” I close my eyes and take a deep breath. “I just need a moment.” Every secret and truth revealed in the past consumes me. My relation to Rhys, my brother’s secret, and the fact the man trying to kill us is dead.
His arms wrap around me, pulling me to him.
He rests his head on my chest, clinging onto me.
I place my hand on top of my husband’s head, threading my fingers through his hair.
Resting my cheek against my hand, I cry.
Tears stream down my face, soaking into Rome’s hair.
The swaying trees in the distance blur with my watery gaze.
The tension and stress we’ve carried around with us these past several weeks disappears with every breath I take.
“I’m not sure what this means, Rome.”
He loosens his arms around me and raises his chin. I rest my hands on his shoulders, look him in the eye, and fall in love with him all over again.
“I think it means we’re free,” Rome whispers, dragging his finger across my cheek.
“Free?” Tilting my head to the side, I pinch my brow. I don’t think I even know what it means to feel free. I’ll never be free from the pain of losing our daughter. But being here with Rome, rediscovering our lost love, fills me with a new feeling. Hope, maybe?
“Free to go home.”
A sob escapes me, and I find myself laughing and crying at the same time.
“I can’t tell if these are happy tears or sad,” he mutters, wearily.
I sniff, laughing even more as I wipe my fingers under my eyes.
I’m strong. I’m independent. I’m resilient.
“Happy, Rome.” I giggle. “These are happy tears.”
He breathes a sigh of relief.
“So,” I start, “what you’re saying is, I get to go home and see my friends and family?”
“Yes,” Rome whispers. He plants a gentle kiss to the base of my throat, sending my stomach somersaulting again. “But we have one more thing to clear up before we head back home.”
“What is that?” I pinch my brow and run my fingers over the back of his head.
“We made a deal when you first got here.”
My entire body freezes, knowing exactly where he’s going with this.
“The one thing I always wanted.” I nod in understanding. “Divorce.”
“Is that what you still want?”
I narrow my eyes and cradle Rome’s face in my hands. Running my thumbs along his cheekbones, I stare at his handsome face, knowing he’s ruined me for all eternity. All the years of believing I could ever find someone who compares to him, over.
“I told you already.” I rock my hips against him as his hands slide across my back. “You’re all I’ve ever wanted.”
His mouth tilts with a smirk before he pulls me down, crashing his lips against mine.
“I’m so glad you said that…” Slipping his hand between us, he digs into his pocket and pulls out two rings.
One a rose gold ring decorated with leaves and tiny diamonds.
The other a black ring with chrome engraved feathers. Feathers from a lark.
“Because…” Rome whispers, sliding my wedding ring onto my trembling finger. “It’ll be much easier taking you back home as my wife than as my ex-wife.”
I stifle my laugh by clamping my other hand over my mouth. My wedding ring slides onto my finger as easily as it did the day we got married. Satisfied with the way it shimmers in the sunlight, I take the other ring from Rome’s hand and slide it onto his fourth finger.
“I agree.” I breathe in, rubbing my thumb over the engraving. Then I’m rolling my eyes. “Divorces are so messy, right?”
“Right.” His grin undeniable.
I melt, and my husband kisses me.