Chapter 24
LUCY
I rush through my shower, not wanting to leave Soren with Massimo for too long. Not that I think he’s going to hurt my son, but I can’t imagine being with a screaming baby for that long is his idea of a good time. Hopefully Kida can help him or even take over.
Still, getting a shower, getting clean, is the best feeling.
It wipes away some of the exhaustion, but also lets me think.
This entire day has been like a slap in the face.
This is my life now. At least for the foreseeable future until whatever is going on out there settles down.
It terrifies me. What if I had been downstairs with Soren when that explosion happened?
What if we were hurt, or worse? What if I left Soren with no parents? Who would care for him?
My mind swirls, completely lost in the what ifs. I lift my face to the spray, trying to wash them away, but I can’t seem to make them stop. Panic and worry just continue to build and bubble, until I sink to the ground, touching the cool tiles outside the spray, trying to recenter myself.
I can’t go out there all worked up. I need to get myself under control.
I force myself to take deep breaths, the way I used to do when I was home alone and Joey was out with his friends after another fight. Normally when I wouldn’t agree to going back to the club like he wanted. When he would use his dominance over me to fuck with my head just to punish me.
I hate this feeling. I hate the way it sends me back into the same spiral it took me a long time to get out of. I promised myself I would never let it happen again, but I guess I can’t live up to that.
Breathe in. Breathe out. Breathe in. Breathe out.
I repeat the mantra over and over until I finally feel a small semblance of calm.
Of enough clarity that I can get back to my feet, turn off the shower, and hurry out.
I don’t allow myself to think as I get dressed and wrap a towel in my hair.
Now that the shower isn’t running, I can still hear Soren crying, and my heart sinks.
Shit. While I’ve been having a pity party for myself in the shower, I’ve left my son hungry.
What kind of mother am I?
I rush out of the bathroom, skidding to a stop when I see Massimo standing near the window, holding Soren up and pointing things out to him quietly, patiently. Soren’s cries aren’t as angry or loud, but he definitely doesn’t seem to care too much about whatever Massimo is saying to him.
I look around, but I don’t see Kida. Wait? Did she leave Massimo alone?
“He’s hungry,” I say as I move quickly to Massimo’s side. “I’ll feed him and he’ll stop.”
Massimo doesn’t argue, handing me back my son, but his eyes take me in, assessing.
I try to ignore him as I pull Soren into my arms, looking around for a place to sit.
I finally decide on the sofa near the fireplace, grabbing the small receiving blanket on the bed to cover myself.
I’m not comfortable sitting with my tit out in front of Massimo.
I put the blanket over me, lift my shirt, and put Soren to my breast. He latches on hungrily, making me wince, but I settle back into the couch. Massimo comes and sits in the one across from me. I try not to stiffen, but I look down to make sure I’m covered.
“Where’s Kida?” I ask when I look back at him.
“I’m not sure. She left after we talked for a minute. I didn’t even hear her leave.” His eyes scan my face. “What’s wrong, cerbiatta?”
Damn it. I really was hoping that I had hid how upset I was. “Nothing, I’m just tired,” I lie smoothly. It slips off my tongue as easily as it did when Joey used to demand to know what is wrong with me. “And stressed that I could hear Soren crying.”
At first I think he’s going to take my lie without questioning it, but then his eyes narrow, and he leans forward, elbows braced on his knees, and says in a low, tight voice, “Don’t lie to me, Lucy. Tell me to mind my own business, fine, but don’t lie.”
I stiffen, and I try not to glare at him.
Instead, I keep my expression calm and tell him, “You think me being concerned about my son is a lie?” Another thing I learned from Joey.
When he tried to accuse me, I turned it back to him, letting him hear his question.
Let him doubt himself and leave me alone.
Only, with Massimo, he isn’t Joey. He’s either psychic and can read minds, or he’s just very good at seeing through bullshit. He’s clearly not going to drop it.
Massimo’s head cocks slightly. “Is this how you get people to leave you alone? To stop asking questions when you don’t want to talk? I don’t tolerate lies, Lucy. Ever. Especially not from you. Not when I can help.”
It’s the wrong thing to say. My defences go up fast, hard, and my glare turns icy. “And who are you to tell me what you will and won’t tolerate?” I ask, my tone serbic.
Massimo’s eyes flash, but with something I recognize well.
Something I used to see in Joey’s eyes all the time.
My stomach clenches with unease. What is Massimo going to do?
Is he going to yell at me? Call me names?
Or is he going to turn cold and walk away, icing me out? Breaking this tenuous trust we have?
We stare at each other, the friction between us growing the longer neither of us speaks. The only sound is Soren’s hungry suckles and small grunts.
Finally, Massimo says in that deep voice that makes my insides quiver, “I am the man that could very well make you tell me, cerbiatta, but won’t because I won’t have you putting me in the same category as whoever you are trying to protect yourself from in your head.”
I stiffen. “What?”
“You think I don’t see the look in your eyes, or the way you turned those questions around? Or that I didn’t notice the way you reacted to me when I put you in the passageway earlier? That I didn’t hear the words yes, sir, when I gave you that order? That you put your head down in submission?”
The blood in my veins turns to ice. First denial, then fear. Of what him having that information means. How he can use it against me.
He doesn’t move from his position on the couch, and as much as I want to get up, walk away, lock myself in the closet, I don’t move. I can’t move. I’m frozen in place, trying not to panic or show him what I’m feeling.
Finally, Massimo says, “Unlike whoever he was, Lucy, I will not coerce you into telling me, or order you to. However, I will never just take a lie and let it be. Or let you hide. Like I said, you can tell me to fuck off, but don’t lie to me.”
“And what is your obsession with lies?”
He eases back, sinking back into the sofa as watches me.
Almost like he’s trying to decide how much he wants to tell me.
Finally, his tone calm, he answers. “Because all my mother did was lie to me, even as she betrayed us and my father. She did pretty much the same thing that Nico’s mother did and had an affair with another man, all while telling them about our plans, our operations, our secrets.
We almost didn’t find out until too late.
She was plotting with her lover to kill my father, and the rest of us, and take over our home, our businesses and territory. ”
I was not expecting that. The ice starts to thaw, and sympathy takes its place. “She was planning on killing you? Her own son? And your brothers?”
He nods. “We’re an extension of our father, and her lover was never going to let us stay breathing and possibly rise back up to take back what was rightfully ours.
She may have at one time loved us, but that grew to resentment the minute she fell in love with someone else and couldn’t give him the children she felt he should have. We were in their way.”
“What happened to her?”
At first I’m not sure he’s going to answer, but finally, he states matter-of-factly, “Papa killed her and her lover. After everything, there was no other option. It nearly killed him, but he would never stand for her trying to harm us. Him, he could have understood it in a way, but not his children. I don’t think he’s ever forgiven her, or himself. ”
My heart aches. I can’t imagine waking up one day and finding out that my own mother was planning to kill me.
I glance down at the blanket covering Soren’s head.
The thought of never loving my son is so far out of the realm of possibility for me.
When my gaze returns to Massimo’s, I say, “She deserved to die for trying to do something like that.”
“Since then, lies are the one thing I can’t stand.
Even small ones. Small lies lead to bigger and worse ones, and it chips away at the trust people have between them.
” His gaze intensifies. “And I want you to trust me, Lucy. And that includes the times you think you should keep something to yourself because you’re sure it’s going to bother me, piss me off, or that I just won’t care.
I can’t help you if I don’t know. Communication is important, yes? ”
“You make it sound like we’re something more than whatever this whole entire situation is, Massimo.” And it terrifies me, but I keep that to myself.
He doesn’t reply to that, and I have a feeling that’s deliberate. Instead, he asks, “Who made you fear being honest, Lucy?”
I’m saved from answering by Soren pulling away from me, full, and letting out a small grunt.
I awkwardly pull him from beneath the blanket, trying not to flash Massimo.
Massimo eases forward and holds out his hands.
I hesitate, but then hand him the baby. Maybe if he’s focusing on him, the questions will stop.
Wishful thinking.
“Lucy,” he prompts as I straighten my clothes and pull the blanket from around my shoulders. He sits Soren on his knee, holding his neck as he pats his back. He looks like a pro, and Soren seems content to be there. “Talk to me.”