41. Massimo
Chapter 41
Massimo
I did the right thing .
At least that’s what I told myself when I signed the divorce papers the lawyer sent over.
I had no other choice .
That’s what I said to convince myself that sending them to her was the right thing to do.
But now, as I sit here, staring at the empty space in front of me, I know that I made a colossal fucking mistake.
The phone on my desk rings, but I don’t pick it up. I don’t know how much time has passed since I entered my office. Since she left me . It feels like she took my existence with her and now all I’m left with is the faint scent of her that clings to my skin.
The call cuts off but within seconds it starts to ring again. Fucking hell, do I not have a house full of staff that are capable of answering a goddamn phone? Snatching up the handset, I bark, “What?”
“It’s good to hear from you too, cousin,” Romeo drawls, as if amused.
I slam the phone back into the cradle. It rings almost immediately, the sound shrill and grating on my senses.
Ring.
Ring.
Ring.
Exasperated, I pick up the phone and snap, “I have some shit going on here and I’m not in the mood for whatever you’ve called about.”
I hear the squeak of Rome’s chair on the other end of the line. His tone is low and serious when he says, “One, do not hang up on me again. I don’t give a shit what you’ve got going on, you show me some respect. Two, what’s happened? Another attack?”
Pinching the bridge of my nose, I reply, “Forgive me. No, there haven’t been any new attacks. Not yet at least, but that would just be the cherry on top of my day.”
“So, what’s happened?” he urges, and I picture him leaning back in his chair.
I blow out a breath, staring out the window at the hills in the distance. A fog rolls over them, an indication of the early morning hour and the time she’s been gone.
“Margot left me.” Just speaking the words douses me in my failure. As a mafia don. But more importantly, as a husband.
“Will she come back?” Rome asks, matter-of-factly.
I can’t hold back my bitter laugh. “Not a chance. She asked for a divorce so I played her for it and she won.”
“I’m sorry, you played your wife for a divorce?” His confusion is evident and it’s not a language barrier.
I’ve been so fucking idiotic .
Why did I think playing poker with her was the way to fix the problem? I should have just talked to her, but… “I didn’t think she’d fucking win,” I snap.
“What’s that saying?” Romeo pauses. “Ah, yes, play stupid games, win stupid prizes? That’s the one, right?”
I grind my jaw to the point of pain and grit out, “I mean this in the most respectful way possible, but fuck you .”
Romeo lets out a hearty chuckle, one that only a family member could get away with. I pull the phone away from my ear to stare at the handset. If I hang up on him again, what are the chances of him actually doing anything about it? Given we’re family and he’s thousands of miles away, it’s got to be slim.
The line goes quiet and I press it back to my ear just in time to hear him ask, “Do you love her?”
“Yes.” My answer is almost instantaneous. If there is only one thing I am ever certain of in my life, it is that I love Margot with every fiber of my being and I’m not ashamed to admit that.
“So go and get her back.” He makes it sound so simple.
“I sent the divorce papers.” There’s a note of finality in my voice that I wish wasn’t there.
“And?” Romeo asks, the word hanging between us heavy and accusatory.
“And that’s the end,” I bite.
Romeo sighs. “Massimo, if there is one thing I know about you, it’s that you are clever, calculated, and unstoppable when you want something. It is how you got your nickname, right?” The Crow . “So, either you don’t want her as much as you claim, or I was wrong about you. And I’m never wrong about people.”
I let his words sink in. He’s right about me, I am smart, calculated and don’t give up on things I want. It’s how I got Margot in the first place. So why did I let her leave?
The back of my eyes burn as I rest my head on my chair. I let her go because I wanted her to be happy. To not feel like she didn’t have a choice. I’ve been clipping her wings for the entirety of our short marriage. I just figured if I let her go, she’d realize she wanted to stay.
Standing, my chair rolls back, hitting the cabinet behind me. “I have to go.” I have to win my wife back .
“That’s what I thought.” I can hear the smile in Romeo’s voice.
Before I disconnect the call, I ask, “How did you win Aurora back?”
He huffs out a laugh. “Truthfully, I don’t know. I should have been on my knees begging for her forgiveness from the second we found her but I tried to give her space to recover. And when I realized that she might never forgive me, I told her she could leave. By the grace of God, she told me she couldn’t, that she loved me and I was what she wanted. Don’t get me wrong, afterward, I made it up to her in our own way, but I had to lay it all on the line before I could do that.”
Nodding, I work through all of the different scenarios in my mind, trying to come up with a plan that will bring her home where she belongs.
I’ve spent my entire adult life making people do as I have commanded, no matter the consequences. But with Margot? If I truly love her—which I do—I shouldn’t have let her go, I should have fought for her. I should have told her how I felt, so she had all of the facts.
“Listen, Massimo, don’t overthink it. I bet you haven’t even told her you love her, am I right?”
Scrubbing a hand over my jaw, I reply, “No, I haven’t.”
“So start there and see what she has to say. Look, I will call tomorrow and we can talk about the search for Anastasia.”
“Okay,” I reply distractedly.
“ Ciao .”
Romeo disconnects the call and I stalk from my office with a newfound purpose. First, I need to find Margot and beg her to hear me out. And after that? Then I’ll do whatever it fucking takes to bring her back home. Where she belongs .