Chapter 34 Lena
LENA
This was a horrible idea. I groan, plopping into an overstuffed chair. My entire body hurts. I can’t kick the headache that’s been hounding me since I left Rem’s. No amount of water or painkillers will dull the throbbing behind my eyes.
“You needed to leave,” I remind myself out loud. “Like Bianca said before—with the men in this family, sometimes you need to catch your breath away from the scent of their cologne.”
Rationally, I know it was the right call. Emotionally and physically, I feel like I’m one step away from going catatonic.
“Emotional overload,” I mutter. “Too much has happened, way too fast.” I pull a thick wool blanket over my legs and drop my head against the armrest. The hotel suite is gorgeous, warmly lit, with a stunning view of the city.
And absolutely enormous. This one suite takes up the entire floor.
From a security perspective, it makes sense that Rem picked it, but the sheer size makes me feel even more lonely.
I’m back to being alone.
I should be used to it. It’s how I’ve lived most of my life. Loved by my adopted parents, but always knowing deep down that I’m an outlier. I’ve had friends and co-workers, but they’ve all been cursory, people fluttering on the outskirts of my life, never close enough to really count.
That all changed with Rem. And then Bianca and Johnny. Through the most insane, violent twist of fate, Rem Cosenza landed in my life, and I suddenly have people I care about deeply. People I love.
And then you walked away. Temporarily. Justifiably. But neither qualification makes the gaping hole in my chest any smaller.
I close my eyes. Rem’s face is inked on the inside of my eyelids, the guilt stamped on his dark features when his brother was exposing the truth. The earnestness when he swore over and over that he would never have hurt me. That even now, he’ll protect me with his life.
That he’ll side with me over his own family.
Oh, God. I pull the blanket over my head, a feeble attempt to block out the world. How has everything gotten so entirely fucked up in such an incredibly short time? The actions of people I’ve never meet wreaking havoc on a life I’ve only just started living?
One part of me wants to rage against Rem for keeping the truth from me, to fight him tooth and nail for daring me to love him when he could’ve ended my life so easily.
I want to hate him, and I hate that, even now, I still want him desperately. His body, his touch, his passion. Yes, all those things. But I also want his constancy, his strength. His loyalty. His certainty in the face of all obstacles.
In a shockingly short period of time, Rem has become both my rock and my soft place to land. A fact I only understand now that I’ve left him behind.
Tears prick my eyes, clog my throat. I swallow them back. I’ve been crying almost constantly since Lorenzo shut me in the back of one of Rem’s armored cars. What started as cathartic has become exhausting. I don’t have time for wallowing. Not when there is a ticking clock on my life.
Aldo Cerreti is due back in Chicago by mid-day tomorrow. He’ll know the truth of who am I by the time he lands, if he doesn’t already.
For a man with his kind of power, I have to guess that Aldo will find out about my origins no matter how much Rem tries to control this situation.
There’s no way Rem can guarantee his discovery doesn’t reach the capo before he has a chance to tell his uncle in person.
And Rem made it clear that Aldo is judge, jury, and executioner.
He’s the man who stands between me and the rest of my life.
Me and any chance of a future with my husband.
As far as I can tell, I have two options: cut my losses and do my best to vanish, to forget everything that’s happened and hope that I can survive on the run; or fight for myself, for Rem, for the life that I’ve stumbled into but want very much.
Both options terrify me. Fear and frustration swirl in my chest. A pressure building until I have to let it out. Muffling the sound with the blanket, I press my mouth to the wool and scream as loud as I can.
My throat is dry, my ears ringing by the time I done. Catching my breath, I wait to hear the pounding of feet as Rem’s men come to see what’s wrong. One, two—I get to three before there’s a loud knock on the door.
“Mrs. Cosenza? Are you alright?”
Untangling myself from the blanket, I hustle to the door. I check the peep hole, relieved to see it’s Johnny on the other side.
“Yeah. I’m fine,” I call to him. “Just working through some stuff.”
Even through the curved glass I can see Rem’s right hand man grimace. “Understood.” He steps back so I can see the paper bag he lifts into frame. “The boss sent dinner over. He’s worried you won’t eat.”
Of course he is. Taking caring of me even from a distance. I undo all the locks on the door, open it and wave Johnny into the room. Warm spices hit my nostrils the instant he enters. “It smells amazing. Thank you.”
“Indian from the place near the penthouse. Apparently, you have a regular order.”
I roll my eyes, though I can’t help but smile.
“I don’t think three times makes a regular order, but I do really like their food.
” My stomach growls in agreement. Johnny starts setting out containers on the coffee table.
Five, six, and he’s still going. “I can’t possibly eat all of this. It’s enough for an army.”
Johnny shrugs. “Food is our love language. Rem is practically crawling out of his skin keeping his distance. He channeled all his frustration into over-ordering. After he got through cursing everything and everyone under the sun.”
“Oh.” I drop the container I was opening back on the table, appetite gone. Hearing about Rem suffering makes me miserable all over again. “Jesus, this sucks.”
Johnny surprises me by saying, “It’s also kinda amazing.
I’ve known Rem since we were kids. I’ve never seen him restrain himself like this.
He’s a methodical fucker. As dangerous as they come.
Once he sets his mind to something, nothing and no one can get him to back down.
But you—” Johnny looks me dead on, gaze somber.
“Everything about you being here goes against every fiber of Rem’s being.
I can literally see him shaking as he fights to stay away.
But he’s doing it because it’s you. Because you asked him to give you space and he’d burn the world down to give you what you need.
Even if it means turning to ash himself. ”
A strangled sob escapes me. Johnny’s expression turns apologetic.
“I’m not telling you that to make you feel bad, Lena.
Or to encourage you to change your mind.
I understand why you wanted to leave. That was a whole lot of shit Rem and Ari dumped on you all at once.
I’m just saying that, despite his obvious overbearing tendencies, Rem is devoted to you.
From breath to blood. He’ll do anything you need, don’t doubt that. ”
Something about Johnny’s expression reminds me of the way he’s looked at his own wife. “Like you’ll do for Bianca?”
“Exactly. So, I speak from experience. You can trust him with your life.”
“That part I don’t doubt,” I confess. “It’s whether or not I can trust him with my heart.”
Johnny goes quiet, continuing to arrange a feast for twenty. I could stay here a month and still not eat all the food Rem’s sent. “Is Lorenzo still in the hall?”
Johnny nods.
“You guys must eat some of this too. We can’t let it go to waste.”
“Sure, Mrs. Cosenza. Thank you.”
Our heart-to-heart is over. I’m back to being the wife of the boss. I want to ask how Bianca is doing, but Johnny takes a token plate of food to the corner of the room and eats it quickly. I can tell he’s doing it just to keep me happy, and for some reason that makes me even more sad.
I’m still pushing rice and butter chicken around the plate when Johnny heads to the door. “Thanks for the food.” He looks pointedly at my still-full plate. “Try to eat, too. Having something in your stomach will help.”
“With a broken heart?” I toss the question out as a morbid joke, but no one laughs. “You’re a bit of a bully too, you know.”
Johnny’s gaze is intense. “Especially with people I care about. You’re one of us, Lena. It’s my job to take care of you. Simple as that.”
I crush the impulse to hug him, to thank him for being a friend. That will just make us both embarrassed. “I’ll eat. Thanks.”
Johnny nods then disappears out the door. Silence fills the suite, so loud it’s hard to think. Suddenly, sitting still is too much. I abandon my plate to pace the spacious living area. I’m on lap nine when there’s another knock on the door.
“Mrs. Cosenza?” It’s Lorenzo. Unlike Johnny, he’s not going to give me an emotional pep talk, but I’m eager to get some of this food out of here. What once smelled divine is starting to make me sick to my stomach. I cut through the room, check the peep hole, open the door.
Lorenzo nods solemnly. “Giordano ordered me to eat. Said you insisted.”
“More like invited.” I start to smile but realize it’s a lost cause. I’m the wife of the boss. Lorenzo is just doing as he’s told. With a weak wave, I gesture him toward the table. “Take as much as you’d like.”
He grunts his thanks and steps by me. Watching him trek across the room, I let the door shut behind me and realize a second too late that I don’t hear it click into place.
“Is there enough for us as well?” Spoken in an extremely refined male voice, the question makes me whirl around.
An older man stands in the doorway. Hair gray at the temples, beard meticulously clipped, skin creased with age and a lot of time in the sun, he watches me with a measured gaze.
His three-piece suit is immaculate, as are the wool coat folded over his arm and the pristinely polished shoes on his feet.
Everything about this stranger screams wealth and power, underlined by a hardness no amount of civility can conceal.
Despite his age, he towers over me. The two men behind him are even larger, their shoulders so broad each will have to angle themselves to get through the door.
Behind me, Lorenzo curses amongst the clatter of silverware, his arm brushing mine less than a second later. His body is coiled for action, his stance protective as he physically blocks me from the intruder’s view.
The older man says something in Italian and Lorenzo makes a sound like a strangled grunt. It must be an order, because my protector slides over just enough for me to face the older man.
“Pronto. Lena Cosenza, I assume?” He extends one perfectly groomed hand.
I glance at it before lifting my own, self-preservation propelling me to accept his gesture. Everything about him says that I don’t want to know what happens if I refuse. “Yes. I’m Lena.”
“Bella. I’m so delighted to finally meet you.” He gives my hand a gentle squeeze before releasing it. He dips his head in something like a bow and says the words I’ve been expecting—dreading—every second since he appeared. “Let me introduce myself. I’m Aldo Cerreti.”