Chapter 22
I watch Liliya while pretending to pay attention to what the other men around me are saying.
I nod and make comments when needed.
Liliya throws her head back, laughing with the other wives.
Her laugh echoes through the room.
Surprisingly, it doesn’t grate my nerves like most do.
It’s cathartic, almost—like a favorite song that dissolves the static inside your head, calming you.
For a moment, I look at the men around me.
All bosses, underbosses, or capos in our Mafia families.
This group of men kills without regard and doesn’t shy away from committing crimes. While I share so many similarities with them, there’s one large difference. They’re all happily married men who love their wives.
None of their relationships began like that. Like mine, they all carried conditions with either contracts, force, or blackmail.
Cristian, Severino, and Antonio discuss the fastest way to move illegal weapons. Severino is considering ridding himself of his dealer and taking over the business. Cristian said they’d have his support both financially and with manpower. Antonio nods, saying he’s interested as well.
If you’d asked me years ago if I believed any of them would find love in their hearts, that’d be a quick no. Yet, somehow, they found a fucking sliver of it for their wives.
Their stories don’t give me hope for my marriage though.
There’s no softness inside my chest to heal.
Only a decaying heart, rotting from the inside.
I welcome that rot—can’t wait for it to happen.
The day I feel nothing will be the best day of my life.
Cristian leaves the group to make a phone call as the other men engage in a side conversation.
I turn to Benny. “How long did it take for Neomi to stop being a pain in the ass?”
The men around me stop. Antonio tightens his hand around his glass. Damien inches to my side, unsure if this conversation will be good or bad.
Benny stiffens, mid-sip of his drink. “Excuse me?” His tone is sharp.
We’re not friends, merely acquaintances. We also work for two different families who were once at war.
I quickly get to the point. “Out of every man in this room, our marriage agreement is the most similar.”
Benny’s shoulders slightly ease, and he takes another drink.
“Neomi didn’t want to marry you,” I go on. “Her father made that decision for her. The same with Liliya, only it was her brother.”
Benny nods, now understanding my question.
“Neomi hated me at first.” He points at me with his half-filled glass.
“What helped was making it clear I was just as inconvenienced and resentful of our fathers’ decision.
I was also robbed of deciding my own future and couldn’t stand her ass either.
We were both shoved in a shitty predicament we had no power over. ”
“Liliya knows I had no interest in marrying her.” I knock back my bourbon. “We’re past that step, and she’s still giving me a hard time. What’s next?”
“Time and life are what’s next.”
I wait for him to elaborate. A fortune cookie could’ve given me better advice than that.
“We went through the ups and downs of marriage,” he adds.
“As time passed, we realized that our hatred toward each other was anger that we’d been forced together.
” A slow, rare smile spreads across his stern face.
“It didn’t hurt that I killed someone for her.
They won’t admit it, but women love it when you kill for them. ”
“Not always,” Antonio says. “Gigi wanted to kick my ass when I murdered her fiancé.”
“It didn’t help that you told her fiancé to choose between his life and hers,” Benny argues.
Antonio shrugs. “I like playing games before I kill. Makes it less boring.”
I rub at my temples. “I’ve already killed someone for her.”
Benny draws back. “That didn’t relieve any of the tension between you?”
“She doesn’t know I did,” I reply.
He nods in understanding before simply saying, “Get her to fall in love with you.”
I shake my head. “I want her to behave. Not fall in love.”
“Getting her to fall in love with you is how you get her to behave.” He sets his glass on the bar, leaning in closer.
“Nah.” I reach behind the bar and pour myself another bourbon, knowing this is one of those times I need it. “That’s too much trouble.”
Benny shakes his head. “Man, you’re in for a rude awakening.”
Antonio, Damien, and Julian nod in agreement.
“You will fall in love with each other. Then she’ll have your babies.
You may think that sounds miserable now, but your wife will bring you the best damn days of your life.
” Benny’s face softens an inch as his gaze slips to Neomi across the room.
It turns smug when he looks back at me. “Now, that’s all the free advice I have for you.
The less I can help you goddamn Lombardis, the better. ”
“Thanks for the Marchetti words of wisdom,” Antonio calls to Benny’s back as he walks away, headed straight for his wife.
I was there the day Benny wanted to kill Antonio for kidnapping Gigi.
It was intense. Not only did I think I was about to lose my boss and friend, but also my own life. Had Cristian not stopped Benny, he’d have pulled the trigger, whether Gigi was pleading in the background or not.
Benny isn’t our friend. All the Marchettis carry hatred toward us. They just look past it for Gigi and their wives, who’ve all become friends.
The door opens, and the servers shuffle into the room, carrying plates.
I follow the rest of the men to the table. Liliya tenses as I take the chair beside her. She doesn’t look in my direction as she grabs her napkin. Before she can undo it, I grab it from her.
Biting into her lip, she doesn’t say a word as I unroll the napkin and drape it over her lap.
I watch her swallow hard as I squeeze her knee before doing the same with my napkin.
“I’ll have the braciole,” Liliya says when the server stops behind her.
A lump forms in my throat, and I dig my fingers into the table, wondering if she ordered my mother’s favorite meal to fuck with me.
Even though it would be impossible for her to know this information, my mind always travels to the worst-case scenario. I always think the worst of people because it’s usually all I see from them.
I don’t trust my wife.
She’s a runner, a liar, a manipulator.
But, goddamn it, I want to.
I hold up my glass when the server reaches me. “Just a refill. Bourbon.”
Leaning back in my chair, I listen to the conversation without contributing. I sip my drink, taking turns watching the people around me and watching Liliya.
She looks more comfortable in this room full of strangers than she does with me. The wives are doing a good job at hiding the fact that their husbands have probably killed men in this very room.
She participates in the conversation more than I do, and people throw questions at her from around the table.
Natalia asks her, “How’s married life, Liliya?”
Liliya pulls at her dress strap. “Married life is …” She pauses, searching for a word other than miserable. Her head turns in my direction. “We’re adjusting.”
“You’ll get there,” Gigi says in assurance before pointing at me with her fork. “Both of you will.”
For how much violence flows through the Marchetti blood, I don’t know how she’s always so goddamn positive.
I’m relieved when the focus shifts from my marriage to Genesis sharing updates for the Safe Hearts remodel. Together, everyone at the table helped her raise a million dollars to move the shelter to a new building and renovate it.
I had no issue writing a check then, nor do I now for my monthly donations. I only wish my mother had found Safe Hearts before her death.
When the servers return with the main courses, I glance over at Liliya’s braciole and inhale the strong aroma of garlic, olive oil, and basil. My stomach rumbles, and I knock back my drink in one go to quiet it.
The braciole looks just like it did when my mother used to order it.
“Do you want a bite?” Liliya asks, leaning in toward me.
Fuck? Do I look like I’m salivating?
Shaking my head, I look away from her. “I’m good.”
She grabs her fork. “Have you had braciole before?”
I nod. “Have you?”
“No, but it sounded good on the menu.” She cuts a piece.
Resting my elbow on the chair’s arm, I nudge closer to her. “You made a good choice.”
A hint of a playful smile hits her lips. “Does that mean you do want a bite?”
I hesitate, not answering.
“Oh, come on,” she says with a low groan. “Didn’t you give me crap for not eating?” She straightens her shoulders. “How about this? You eat, and I’ll eat.”
I snatch the fork from her hand and shove the bite in my mouth. Closing my eyes, I savor the taste of slender, slow-cooked veal, homemade tomato sauce, and fresh Parmesan cheese. Liliya plucks the fork from me and takes her bite.
A small moan escapes her lips.
My cock jerks in my pants. It’s the sexiest fucking sound, and it reminds me of her moans in the shower when I tasted her sweet pussy.
Maybe Benny is right. I should let life happen.
But one piece of advice I won’t take from him: fall in love.
“Where are we headed now?” Liliya asks, buckling up as I pull out of L’ultima Cena’s parking lot.
I shove my black Ray-Bans up my nose. “To get our marriage license.”
She wrinkles her nose. “We don’t have that?”
“No.” I flick the turn signal.
“Where do we go to get the license?” She grabs her purse from the floorboard and rifles through it for her sunglasses. They’re bright red, in the shape of hearts, and they look ridiculous.
“City clerk’s office.”
“If it’s not signed yet, does that mean we’re not legally married?”
I ignore her question, not wanting her to get any ideas, and check that the doors are locked.
“I’ll google it then—”
I snatch her phone from her hand and roll down my window. She dives across my lap to grab it before I launch it outside.
“Rude,” she grumbles, smacking her back against the seat and tugging her phone against her right side, as far from my reach as she can make it. “I just wanted to have a little chat with my friend Mr. Google.”
“You’re signing the marriage license. I don’t give a fuck what Mr. Google says.”
“Or what?”
“Or I’ll kill every person in the clerk’s office.”
She rolls her eyes. “No, you won’t.”
I slam on my brakes. Her phone falls from her hand as she heaves forward.
She slaps her hand on the glove compartment to stop from hitting her head.
I peer over at her. “You want to test me on that?”
She rears back to glare at me. “What’s up with you guys and murdering innocent people?”
I’m not someone who murders innocent people ever.
I only kill men who’ve wronged me or someone I care about.
If Liliya gives me a hard time signing the marriage certificate, I won’t kill people there. I’ll just hold a gun to her head until she signs.
I park the SUV, and thankfully, she doesn’t give me a hard time during our walk into the clerk’s office. Or when we sign the paperwork that officially binds her to me for the rest of her life.
She’s a Lastro now.
God help her.
“All right, my turn,” she says when we’re back in the SUV.
I stare at her in annoyance. “Where do you want to go?”
“The bookstore. You said you’d buy me as many books as I wanted, remember? Pull out that credit card because my Tbr is miles long.”