CHAPTER NINETEEN
CHAPTER NINETEEN
DAMIEN
I pace the floors of my room endlessly, clenching and unclenching my fists. I’m currently resisting every neuron inside of me urging me to head over to Cassie. It’s been hours since I got the call from Rafael. Apparently she doesn’t want to see me or talk to me at the moment. Which is unfathomable.
We were fine. She woke up in my arms this morning.
She gave me a hug before she stepped out of the car.
I dropped her off at her father’s house, with the hopes that we’ll have another nice night, another nice day together.
And now, there’s a part of me that feels like everything’s unravelling at the seams.
There’s a knock on my door and Luca walks in the room, gaze assessing my expression.
“Sir, would you like me to head over there and bring Mrs. Luciano home?” he questions.
I think about it for a moment. No one could stop me from bringing my wife back to where she belongs. No one except her that is. I just wish she would talk to me. I’ve called her several times and she hasn’t picked up. It’s infuriating.
“No. Leave her. She’ll spend the night with her friends,” I state, feeling a burning ache in my chest. “Instead, I’d like you to look into Miguel Solis. Cassandra became distraught after a conversation with him. I need to find out what he said to her.”
“I was already looking into him, sir,” Luca says. “He’s clean as a whistle. No shady deals or meetings.”
I arch an eyebrow, “I find that hard to believe. Put someone on his tail. I want to know who he’s meeting, where he goes, hell I want to know what he ate for breakfast, lunch and fucking dinner. Perhaps I was wrong to underestimate him. He might be planning something.”
“I’ll get right on it. Would you like anything else, sir?”
“No, I’m fine,” I mutter.
He leaves the room and I go back to my seemingly endless pacing.
The sight of the bed causes a pit to form in my stomach.
Because a part of me is scared last night was the last time I’d get to have her in there.
She’s changed her mind about me. thought it over and realized I’m not really worth it.
That all the darkness isn’t something she wants to be a part of.
I wouldn’t blame her if she did.
After a couple more minutes of pacing, I step out of the room and head to the kitchen, needing some water. I’m surprised to find Renata still there. She usually retires early.
She offers me a warm smile when I walk in.
“Damien,” she says in slightly accented English. “You’re not a regular customer here.”
I chuckle, taking a seat at the island.
“I’ve been busy, Renata.”
“Sure you have. Busy running your father’s business. Busy falling in love,” she says wisely.
I visibly flinch at that last part, shifting in my seat.
“Love is a strong word, Renata,” I murmur.
“Nonsense. You’re too old to be saying such things,” she scolds. “Love is simple. Love is beautiful. As long as you let yourself feel it, you’ll be free.”
“It’s also dangerous,” I point out. “If I let myself feel it, I’ll be more susceptible to pain. It’ll make me weaker.”
She shakes her head and it hits me then, how old and frail she is now. Renata used to be larger than life growing up. An unshakeable force. She still is now. But the years are catching up to her. I hate the sight of it. I don’t want to lose her.
“My dear sweet child, do not let the mistakes of those who came before you keep you from your happiness. I know you haven’t had a lot of good role models on what to expect from life and love, but you can change the narrative, Damien. You can let yourself be better,” she says earnestly.
I ponder her words for a moment. They stir through me, igniting some things I would have liked to keep buried.
“This isn’t a one way situation, Renata. What if she doesn’t want me?”
“Then she doesn’t want you? You can’t force love, Damien,” she states. “You’ve already taken enough from that girl.”
“I want her to be happy.”
“Then let her be happy,” Renata says simply.
But it’s not that fucking simple. I want her to be happy with me. And if it’s possible, I want her to love me.
“Renata,” I call, hesitating before saying my next words. “Do you think I’m a monster?”
The question makes me feel weak, pathetic, but the look in her eyes is kind. She reaches over and places a hand on my arm.
“I’ve met a lot of monsters over the course of my life, Damien. You’re the only one that hasn’t hurt me. You’re not a monster to me.”
The words offer a small measure of comfort. But I’m glad she feels that way, grateful.
“Can I have some tea? I’m having trouble falling asleep,” I tell her with a smile.
“Of course. I’ll make chamomile. We could both use some.”
The tea does end up helping. I fall asleep to the smell of Cassie on my sheets and the hope that things will make better sense in the morning.
I gave her a night away from me. However, I don’t think I’m capable of giving her a life away from me.
***
When I ring the doorbell, the person who steps out is Cassie’s feisty raven-haired friend, to my utter disappointment.
Maxine Grey stands in front of me, staring at me like she doesn’t know what to do with me.
The woman is quite impressive. Bold, quick to action. I’m glad Cassie has her as a friend.
“Can I help you?” she questions.
“I’m here to see my wife,” I reply smoothly.
“It’s 9am in the morning, surely you have something better to do.”
“No. I can assure you nothing is more important than talking to Cassie right now. I need to find out what’s wrong so I can fix it.”
She scoffs, “Fix it? You think this is fixable?”
My brows furrow, “Can you just let me in so I can see her?”
She crosses her arms over her chest, “No.”
I let out a tired sigh, “Careful, Ms. Grey. I can break your door down if I wish to do so. Let’s not drag things out, alright?”
From behind her, Cassie appears through the front door. Seeing her is like a shock to my senses. It’s only been a couple of hours but I hadn’t realized how much I missed her. The sight of her eyes, the bow of her lips, the ridge in the middle of her forehead.
I think I just forgot. Just how beautiful she is to me.
“You have no diplomatic skills, Damien,” she states, disappointment teeming in her eyes. “Why is your first thought always t commit violence?”
My lips open and then successively close because I have no clue what to say to that. Cassie’s head hitches up as she looks at me, her lips pressed in a thin line.
“Well, at least you didn’t threaten to kill her,” she mutters.
“Why would I want to kill your friend? That serves me no purpose,” I manage to say, feeling like I’m on trial with the way both women are looking at me.
“Everyone has a purpose until they don’t anymore, isn’t it?”
My brow furrow as I take in the bitterness in her expression. I step forward towards her, and my heart stutters when she takes a step back, avoiding my touch. My fists clench, and unclench.
“Cassie, you need to talk to me about what happened. I need to understand.”
She shares a look with her friend and offers her a quick short nod. Maxine then sighs and withdraws, heading back into the apartment, shutting the door behind her and leaving us alone in the hallway.
“What happened yesterday?” I immediately ask.
“Nothing much. I’m sure you’ll be pleased to know I officially have millions of dollars of liquid cash and real estate, courtesy of my dearly departed father,” she replies dryly.
“I don’t give a fuck about that. Tell me what upset you.”
She doesn’t immediately speak. I watch as she shifts her weight from one foot to the other, before closing the front of the dark blue knitted jacket she has on, seeking some measure of comfort.
“Cassandra,” I grit out. “I’ve been patient, haven’t I?”
She scoffs, “You left me alone for one night. I’m not a bird in a cage, Damien.”
“I never said you were,” I retort calmly, intent on not losing my cool. “Tell me what’s wrong. I won’t ask again.”
Our gazes connect, hers fierce and hurt? I hate that I might have done something to hurt her. And it’s driving me crazy that I have no idea what it is. It takes a couple of seconds before she speaks, her voice low and soft.
“You killed your mom.”
My breath hitches as she delivers that statement. I hadn’t been expecting that. Never wanted her to know about that. My jaw tightens and I feel my throat close up.
“Tell me it isn’t true,” Cassie says desperately looking up at me. “Tell me you didn’t shoot the woman that gave birth to you.”
“I had my reasons,” I murmur.
“Are you fucking kidding me right now? So you’re saying in your sick, twisted, demented mind, you can justify that? You think it’s something to be proud of?”
My jaw tightens even further, “No, I don’t think it’s something to be proud of. But I can justify it. You know what she did to me.”
“Because she made one mistake? You killed her for an action that she probably regretted for so long? What do you expect me to do? Empathize?”
“Yes,” I reply honestly. “Because I thought you understood.”
“I understand what you had to go through, but it’ll be a cold hard day in hell before I ever understand or justify killing family, and of all people, your mother.”
My lips curl up in a cruel smirk, “You’re not a bastion of morality, sweetheart. And neither am I. We’re both just human beings trying to live life. I know you’re probably waiting for me to say I regret what I did. But I don’t. Not really. What use is any regret, anyway? It’s done.”
“Oh my God,” she says, her voice cracking in frustration. “All I’m asking for is some sign that you still have a soul in there! A heart! Damien she gave birth to you. Sofia told me a little about her and she said she was kind and loving. She loved you!”
“She betrayed the Cosa Nostra. She betrayed my father.”
“Speaking of fathers,” she exhales softly, meeting my gaze head on, “What do you know about my father’s death?”
The question throws me off, “What?”
“You heard me, Damien. What do you know about it?”