5. Liana
LIANA
I instantly shut the door just in case Sonny hears us.
“What the fuck is wrong with you?” I hiss. He just stares at me like I’m the crazy one.
“We should get married,” he says again, and he’s clearly lost his fucking mind.
“You’re crazy,” I say, shaking my head incredulously. “I’m not going to marry you.”
“Because I’m crazy?” he asks, smirking.
“No! Because we’re not... we don’t...” I trail off. I don’t want to actively insult him because he’s done a lot for me tonight, but this is ridiculous. He can’t be serious.
“Alright, alright, don’t let your head explode. Just hear me out. It’ll help me get a tax break, and you won’t have to live in your car.”
“You file taxes?” I ask incredulously.
“Gotta launder money somehow. I have several legitimate businesses on the books, you know.”
I guess when you make the kind of money that Dario does, it has to go somewhere, but still...
“And you think I’m just going to take you back? After what you did?”
“And what did I do, exactly?” he asks, giving me a cool stare.
I look away, swallowing hard. “It doesn’t matter. What matters is that we tried it once. It didn’t work.”
“I agree with you.”
I look up at him, shocked. “Then why do you want to marry me?”
“Want is a strong word. I want to help you. I want to help myself. This kills two birds with one stone.”
I go silent. Dario’s right, it would solve a lot of my problems, being a don’s wife. And if he’s telling the truth about having legitimate businesses, financially, it would help him out, too. Tit for tat.
Do I really have a choice?
“So we’d be even, then, if we got married?”
“Even stevens.”
He’s still staring at me, his eyes not moving from my face.
“I need some air,” I say suddenly. I leave the room, hurrying down the stairs to my car to get out a bag of clothes for me and Sonny. I’m trying to drag them inside when Dario’s hand closes over mine.
“You’re still concussed. Let me do it.”
Now that he mentions it, I do have a pounding headache and I still feel a little light-headed.
“You should lie down.”
“Lie down? After this? After you asked me to marry you?” My voice is pitching up almost hysterically, but Dario doesn’t seem to notice. He grabs the trashbags full of clothes and takes them upstairs, putting me in a different room than Sonny, one right next to it.
“I told you, I’ll bunk with—”
“You won’t. You need to rest, and we’re close both close enough to hear him if he wakes up.”
“I’m not—”
“Just humor me, okay?”
I shut my mouth and nod.
Because at the end of the day, he’s right. I’ll rest better if I’m not worried about Sonny falling off the bed. Besides, Sonny seems comfortable, wrapped up in blankets in the middle of the large guest bed.
I sigh and rifle through my bags before I find a ratty pair of sweats and a t-shirt from the local university.
Dario stiffens. “Whose clothes are those? Those aren’t women’s clothes.”
I blink up at him. “I dunno. Probably some old college boyfriend.”
I went to college, after all—for three whole semesters before I realized I couldn’t hack it, couldn’t be that far away from my father.
I’d had big dreams of becoming a journalist, but in the end, I went back home with a 2.3 GPA and my tail between my legs.
Papa hadn’t said I told you so, though, just hugged me and offered me a Bloody Mary.
My chest aches. God, I miss him.
I’m grieving the loss of my father in the only way a mob daughter can—surviving while grieving.
“Those have holes in them,” Dario argues, his jaw set tight like he’s speaking through gritted teeth.
“Don’t see you offering,” I mumble. He disappears and I let out a long breath, thinking he’s finally going to leave me to process this.
Instead, though, he comes right back in, carrying a folded pair of sweats and a t-shirt. I don’t have the heart to tell him they’ll swallow me whole, with as tall as he is. Plus, he’d argue anyway. He always was possessive.
Not that it matters anymore.
But so I don’t have to fight him, I go into the bathroom connected to my room and change into his clothes. God, they smell like him, like soap and sandalwood and all my oldest dreams.
Forgotten dreams.
Until now.
I look up at him after walking out of the bathroom. His expression changes to that of something like awe, his features shuttering closed as I look at him.
He looks away. “You always did look good in my clothes.”
I swallow hard again, feeling like there’s a knot in my throat I can barely speak around.
“Thank you. For... for everything, Dario.”
“So then it’s settled? We’ll get married?” It’s not exactly hope in his voice. More like... resignation.
“No. Of course not. Like I said, it’s crazy. Especially given who you are.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“You have an entire penthouse dedicated to having one-night-stands, Dario.”
“Well, it’s not like that would have to change.”
I peer up at him, narrowing my eyes. “What?”
He shrugs. “I can live my life, still. We’d be married in name only.”
A rush of breath comes out of my throat. So he doesn’t want to get back together. That shouldn’t sting, especially since I had no intention of taking him back, but it does.
“So what, it’d just be a marriage of convenience?”
“Exactly. I’d be free to do whatever I wanted.”
I hum. “And so would I.”
He blinks but then shrugs as if shaking it off. “Of course.”
“Sure. Tit for tat,” I say quietly, as if I’m not absolutely seething inside. I’m over Dario. I really am. But if I have to watch him with other women... “But you won’t have women over.”
“Of course not. Like I said, that’s what the penthouse is for.”
Uh-huh. The penthouse that he took me to. Goes to show I was never more to him than a fling.
Jealousy rushes over me when I think about it, but I tamp it down.
“I guess I’ll have my dates outside the house, too.”
He grits his teeth and I fight a grin, knowing I’ve gotten to him.
“What about Sonny?”
“I’m sure you’ll help me with a babysitter. Wouldn’t you?”
“Of course,” he says, his voice still strained.
“You should make some calls,” I warn him. “Might have a date soon.”
“Right.”
I climb into bed, exhausted, but I’m still fighting a grin. What Dario doesn’t know is that I haven’t dated anyone since I found out I was pregnant with Sonny. I’ve been completely celibate, only because I’ve been so focused on Sonny.
But he doesn’t know that, and plus, it might change soon, anyway. If there was ever a time to get back out there, it’s now.
Maybe I’ll find someone else, plan my life all over again. Get the marriage to Dario annulled. Maybe I’ll find someone who won’t cheat on me like he did.
A girl can dream, can’t she?
Dario walks to the doorway.
“Dario?”
“Yeah?”
“Turn out the light, will you?”
He nods and flips it off, hesitating slightly before shutting the door.
I lie down in bed and grab my phone, starting up a dating profile using some photos I took recently while out with my friends.
It may not go anywhere, of course, and I’m doing it completely out of spite, but if Dario can live his own life, so can I, damnit.
And it’s about time I started living it.
When I wake up the next morning, I have over fifty messages, and a sly smile spreads across my face.