Chapter 26
ROSALIE
“Careful!” I shrieked, my voice echoing dramatically through the empty apartment.
The man, built like a refrigerator on wheels, grunted but didn’t slow down. He wrestled with a comically oversized cardboard box. Its brown surface was tattooed with the words “Nana’s fancy dishes” in red marker.
“That box has my Nana’s dishes in it! You break that, and she’ll haunt you from the grave.”
“Max said you Clarkes are good at that.” His laugh echoed through the empty hall.
Disbelief rendered me speechless. Dimitri, they called him. I’d call him a careless klutz. He was one of Max’s goons. My arms were full of my bags, which made it hard for me to help him carry the dishes, but also conveniently prevented me from catching him when he inevitably tripped over his feet.
I watched, wide-eyed, as Dimitri and the other men carried out my things in boxes. The second they got here, they’d started packing everything up like overcaffeinated ants.
Everything was happening so fast I couldn’t begin to wrap my mind around it all. Max wasn’t wasting a second. I’d stood in the hall the entire time with my overnight bag in hand, watching them pass through box after box.
I was starting to think this was a mistake.
What on earth was I doing?
I was moving in with Max.
I was marrying him.
“This is the last of it, ma’am,” a man named Adrian said to me, with the last cardboard box in his arms. “Max should be downstairs waiting for you.”
Of course he is. The man practically choked on his own oxygen when we weren’t physically connected.
I guess this was it. I wasn’t sure why I was acting as if I was sad to leave this place. I’d never be able to forget the image of Lucas’s body and how his mouth had hung open.
He’d died right where I was standing, but Sean had cleaned everything up as if he’d never been here in the first place. I hated that it had been so easy for them. All that made me think about was how many other times they’d done it.
I held Duke’s leash tighter in my hands and slammed the door, creating a loud echo in the empty hallway.
The elevator descended slowly, taking us to the main lobby. Adrian gave me a strange look.
“What?” I asked, my voice tight.
“You’re one of those crazy girls, aren’t you?”
Should that offend me? What a strange thing to say to someone.
“You should ask Max. I wonder what he’d think of you asking me that.”
Adrian’s curt nod was more of a flinch. His entire demeanor shifted. He shuffled his feet, the silence between us thickening.
Taking in a deep breath, I squared my shoulders. The leather leash felt cool and familiar against my hand. Duke, sensing my shift in mood, whined softly and pressed his wet nose into my leg. I reached my hand down to give his neck a rub.
Finally, with a muttered apology that sounded a lot like, “Good luck with Max, crazy or not,” Adrian scurried out of the elevator the second the doors chimed open, practically leaping into the hallway.
I stepped out, the metal doors sliding shut behind me with a soft hiss.
Max stood on the near side of the lobby looking the part, and that both terrified and fascinated me in equal measure. His posture was relaxed, legs planted firmly shoulder-width apart, with his hands tucked into his pockets.
“Oh, goody,” I mouthed sarcastically as my feet moved on autopilot, closing the distance between us.
Finally, when I was close to feel the heat radiating from his body (and to smell his cologne—was that a hint of Dior and desperation?), I stopped at his feet.
“You again.”
He looked down at me. Then a slow, handsome smile spread across his face. It wasn’t a smirk, not a predatory grin, but a genuine smile that crinkled the corners of his eyes.
“You didn’t run,” he said, which sounded a lot like a statement more than a question.
“No,” I said, forcing a frown to mask the sudden flutter in my stomach. “Mostly because running in heels is a recipe for disaster, and frankly, expensive.”
“Too bad,” he drawled. “I wouldn’t have minded the chase.”
I raised a brow. “Are you saying you’d give me a head start?”
He chuckled. “A head start and all the heels in the world,” he began. “There is not a single brick in the entire state of New York that I wouldn’t flip to find you.”
“Chicago then?” I managed.
“You wouldn’t make it that far.”
Max took my bags from Dimitri. They mumbled something I couldn’t hear. Then Max gestured for me to follow him, his broad shoulders brushing past me. He’d taken care of everything for me. I’d forgotten what it felt like to walk around without my head.
He strode toward a sleek black Mercedes and popped the trunk, placing the bags inside.
He took the leash from my hands and put Duke in the back.
Then he opened the door for me—a gesture that felt oddly familiar.
Hesitation flashed across my face for a moment before I took in a deep breath and climbed into the car.
It was nice. Expensive, of course. The plush leather seat swallowed me whole and felt cool against my skin.
Once Max was behind the wheel, he started the engine.
I turned to look at Duke. He lay comfortably in the back. Then my eyes caught on the car seat securely fastened on the seat beside him, its bright pink colors popping out in the dark.
What the fuck?
I turned back around quickly and swallowed. It was a car seat. Did he have a child? Suddenly, everything felt a little more . . . real. The image of him taking care of a kid didn’t quite compute.
“What is that?” I asked, worried.
He turned to look behind him. “Car seat,” he confirmed, glancing back at me. “Thought you had a thing for dads, didn’t you?”
My mind scrambled. “I . . .” I stammered, cheeks flushing hot.
Why did it make me feel envious that another woman was connected to him forever? Who was this woman?
Just as I opened my mouth to ask another question, the engine roared to life, and he drove off down the street.
“Seriously?” I sputtered. Anger and confusion had taken up residence in my gut. “You couldn’t have mentioned that before?”
“Relax,” he said, amusement in his eyes. “It’s for my niece. No mini-Maxes running around just yet.”
Relief washed over me. “Oh, thank goodness.” I blew out a quiet sigh. Then I realized I’d said that out loud. “The world couldn’t handle another version of you wreaking havoc.”
“The world doesn’t have to,” he began with a smile. “Just you.”
“Me?” The thought of having his babies made my reality settle. “No.”
“No?”
“Absolutely not.”
“I am the Romano son, Rosalie. There is no debating this. If you’re on any birth control, I’d like you to stop taking it now.”
“Find another woman to have your babies. Isn’t that what you mobsters do anyway?”
“Would that be easier for you? Do you want this marriage to be nothing but a political agreement?”
“No,” I admitted reluctantly.
“Smart answer.”
My eyes rolled.
Being with Max felt strange. So much time had passed. It felt like I was with someone I knew completely, yet I knew nothing at all.
This drive mirrored the one etched into my memory—silent, the only sounds the rhythmic hum of the engine and the occasional whoosh of the wind against the windows. His arm brushed against mine as he stretched across the console, his hand finally coming to rest on my thigh.
My gaze dropped to his hand, mesmerized by the way his large fingers looked against my skin. The simple touch of Max’s skin on mine was enough to send me dizzy.
And it did. The warmth of his touch was a comfort, much as I didn’t want to admit it. I hated it. Hated that my body reacted so instinctively, so undeniably, to him. I wanted it to stop. At the very least, give me a break.
Finally, the highways led to winding roads that were bordered with towering trees, their branches forming a natural canopy overhead.
The further we continued down the road, the larger and more impressive the houses grew.
Bungalows gave way to sprawling two-story colonials with manicured lawns and gates.
The window was open for Duke in the back, who hung his tongue out with a happy face and a wagging tail. His ears perked up at every new sound—the rustle of the leaves in the breeze, the chirp of a hidden bird, the distant bark of another dog.
The air, once filled with exhaust fumes, was now fresh with the scent of pine and salt. Every so often, a glimpse of the ocean would peek through the trees, a flash of turquoise between the emerald-green.
Eventually, Max turned the car down a driveway lined with colorful wildflowers. This house looked just as grand as the rest of them.
“So this is where the devil lives,” I finally managed, the question tumbling out in a breathless whisper. I was nervous.
“The devil, and now, his maker,” Max corrected as he threw the car into park before getting out. His mouth didn’t shock me anymore. He was trying to blame me for his heinous crimes.
I scoffed, a spark of anger igniting in my chest. Crossing my arms defensively, I retorted, “Arrogant bastard.”
“I heard that,” he demanded, his voice clipped as he opened the backseat door to let Duke out. Then I noticed the window in the back seat was open.
I guess he did hear me.
With a heavy sigh, I decided to play along for now. There was no point in escalating things further—not yet.
Following after Max, I watched him grab my things from the trunk. He began to walk toward the house, holding my things with ease. He turned to face me fully, his jaw clenched.
“Get your ass inside,” he growled, his grumpiness running its full course. “And while you’re at it, learn some manners.”
With a sigh that escaped my lips as a frustrated whoosh, I stepped inside. Duke padded eagerly past me, his tail a blur of excitement as he darted toward the opposite end of the room.
The space was huge. An electric fireplace, sleek and modern, hung prominently on the wall. The dining table, crafted from a rich, dark wood and with a polished finish, reflected the dim light. The space had charm, which was the complete opposite of my apartment.