Chapter 2
The next day dawned bright and cold, an early frost covering the grounds with silver.
Antonio woke up alone, surprised to see his arms wrapped around a pillow instead of his wife, and then remembered the events of the night before.
He groaned, wondering how he could have forgotten something so monumental, and then threw some clothes on before heading downstairs.
He probably looked about as bad as he felt, but for once in his life he didn’t care what he looked like.
Alyssia was already in the kitchen, sipping a cup of coffee and scrolling on her phone. Without even thinking about it, he went up behind her and dropped a kiss on her head, only to be met with a ringing slap. He stepped backwards, putting a hand to his face and blinking slowly.
“Don’t touch me,” she snapped, her voice glacial. “Did you sign the papers?”
“No, and I’m not going to.” He rubbed his jaw where she’d slapped him.
“I’ve been thinking about it, and I want to rebuild our marriage.
I want to earn your trust again, and I will do whatever it takes to win you back.
Whatever it takes, however long it takes.
You’re the love of my life, Alyssia. Love like that doesn’t just disappear overnight. ”
Alyssia laughed bitterly, taking another sip of her coffee. “You seriously think some empty promises and half-assed gifts are going to make me fall in line? I’m not like my mother, you realise. She might have been easy to buy off, but I’m not.”
“I’m not trying to buy you off,” Antonio replied, grabbing a mug and pouring some coffee for himself. “I’m saying, if I have to be celibate forever, if I have to put myself on house arrest … anything. Name it, and it will be done.”
“Do you have any idea what you’ve done? You haven’t just slept with someone, you’ve done it multiple times. Reynolds gave me a list of over thirty women that he saw you with, and believe me he checked to make sure it wasn’t simply business. Thirty women, Antonio!”
“I know, and I’m sorry!” He slammed his cup on the table, slopping coffee everywhere. He cursed and got a cloth, mopping up the spill as he spoke. “If I could take it back, I would! I know I will never be able to undo the past!”
“So why are you trying to?”
“Because I love you!” He threw the cloth in the sink and slammed his hands onto the counter.
“I loved you when I first saw you working in the bar, I loved you when you came to my house and let me cook for you, when we sat in the garden and stared at the stars all night, when you showed me flamenco and I saw you dancing ? I loved you on our wedding day when you were doing your absolute best to be prim and proper, for God’s sake! ”
“You didn’t love me that much if you managed to find thirty other women to fill some non-existent void in your life! I mean, were you drunk every time, or … or high? Or did you just not care about the wife you had at home?” she threw at him, anger in every syllable.
They fell silent, both glaring at one another, and then Antonio sighed and rubbed his face with a hand. Alyssia glared at him, almost daring him to tell her that he didn’t care, that their marriage had meant nothing to him, but he didn’t.
“I’m not about to make excuses for what I’ve done,” he started, looking a lot older than his thirty-six years. “I know I messed up, and I know there’s no taking it back, but I’m not signing any divorce papers!”
Alyssia sat in silence for a while, angrily sipping her coffee, and then put her cup down with a decisive thud. She looked at her husband, the rage and betrayal still evident in her eyes, and shook her head.
“You know what?” She snorted. “My father can deal with you. I’m done with the whole sorry saga. You want us to stay married? Go tell my dad what you did. See what he thinks!”
Antonio stared at her for a moment, realising that she was deadly serious.
He finished his coffee, put the cup in the sink, and went to fetch his coat and briefcase.
As was his habit, he went to kiss his wife goodbye, before catching himself at the last second as she turned her face away from him.
Instead, he took a deep breath and let it out slowly, forcing himself to at least try and calm down.
“I’ll text you when I’m at your father’s house,” he told her, and she waved a hand in acknowledgement.
He walked out of the house, dread starting to form a pit in his stomach.
He’d very rarely had dealings with his father-in-law, mostly because the man was dying of cancer, but it didn’t make the journey any easier.
He knew without a shadow of a doubt that Alyssia’s brothers would give him a beating - and that was if he was lucky, and they didn’t shoot him on sight.
One of the harsher things about being part of the criminal underworld was the likelihood that your own relatives would shoot you for any infraction, no matter how big or how small.
“Ready for work, sir?” his driver asked as he stepped into the car.
“Not yet, Simeon,” he replied. “I need to run a personal errand first.”
The drive to the Richardson house felt like it took them forever, even though it was only a ten minute journey. As he got out of the car, Antonio straightened his jacket and offered up a silent prayer, hoping that he would at least come out of the meeting alive.
Matthew was standing at the door as he walked up the path, arms folded and a thunderous expression on his face.
Antonio guessed that Alyssia had called ahead to warn her siblings of the impending showdown, and he felt the blood start to drain from his face.
It didn’t matter that he was the de facto head of his family, or that he was a prominent figure in their world.
This was personal, and it would be handled as such.
“I’d wipe that look off your face if I were you, Blackwood,” Matthew snapped, glaring at him. “You’re lucky it’s me answering the door and not Damon, or you’d be dead before you left your car.”
“I know that, Matthew, and I’m grateful,” Antonio bowed his head, waiting for his brother-in-law to hit him. The blow, however, never came, and he looked up to see Matthew laughing derisively at him.
“I’m not going to hit you, Blackwood,” he sneered. “You’re not exactly worth the jail time.”
With that, the two men walked through the doors, and Antonio prepared himself to face his fate.