Chapter Twenty-Three
Olivia
To the outside world, nothing had changed from the night I was attacked, but that was false. I felt the extra eyes watching me, the additional security. Maximus didn’t mention it, but I saw the pain in his eyes as he observed my bruises developing and fading.
We went to dinner and events, deliberately flaunting our presence, and every time I stepped out of the car, my heart beat a trepidation beat, just waiting for the next attack.
Tonight, there was a meeting of the families, and as head of the Rossi family, Maximus was expected to attend. Depending on the topic to be discussed, women would be allowed to attend. I learned a long time ago that this was a man’s world, and women were only allowed to look from the periphery.
“I haven’t seen Roberto since the wedding,” I said, fiddling with the link at the back of my necklace.
Maximus appeared behind me, taking the necklace from me and fastening it. He pressed a kiss to the side of my throat. From the night of the attack, he had been more affectionate with his touch, but he had avoided sex.
“I’m not made of glass, Maximus,” I said.
His eyes met mine in the mirror, but he didn’t say anything, turning to finish dressing. He never argued, just ignored what he didn’t want to discuss. I turned to face him.
“I feel I’m dying every single day,” I said, and his eyebrows shot up as he stared at me. “We were married, a partnership, and now I seem to be an inconvenience, a piece of porcelain to be wrapped in silk.”
“I prefer you in silk,” Maximus replied, diverting the conversation from the route I was taking it. “I’m also a fan of lace.”
I glared at him, and his face remained devoid of expression. The man must be the best poker player in the world.
“Ready?” Maximus asked, straightening his cuff. He would never continue the conversation, and his next step would be to wander off, and talk on his phone. There were times I believed he was talking to himself.
“Sure.” I stood, and released a deep sigh.
“Ignore Roberto,” he said, returning to my topic of conversation from earlier which I had forgotten. “If he does approach, talk to him about fluff and nonsense.”
“Fluff and nonsense,” I repeated.
“Yeah, men tend to turn off when you talk to them about fashion or shoes.” His head came up. “Or redecorating houses. Dad used to disappear into his office for days when Mum started to mention colour guides and curtains.”
“Noted,” I replied. “Now that you mention it, our bedroom is very masculine in the colour palate.”
Maximus grinned. “Do what you want with the house, you have your own card to spend what you like, just don’t expect to see me with a paint brush in my hand.”
“I think a roller gives a more even spread of paint,” I replied. “You could try that.”
“You’re cute,” Maximus commented, touching the end of my nose. “No.”
He grabbed my hand, and led me toward the door.
I pulled back. “I need to grab my bag.” Unfortunately, I had gotten lazy about my own security, and I had now reverted to the advice given to me by Caine back in England.
Inside my bag was everything I would need to help defend myself, including a knife disguised as a pen, a pink kitty knuckle keyring, and a discrete taser inside the zipped compartment.
A small can of mace was inside a pretend perfume bottle.
Caine would have been ashamed that I didn’t have the basics of self-defence with me.
Maximus had given me a blocker that I could activate to hide my tracker if I needed to, and some other items to keep me safe.
I held my bag in the air as I joined Maximus in the hall, feeling reassured at having additional means to defend myself. Mama never left home without the means to protect herself and her daughters, even if it was just her stern glare that she gave people she disapproved of.
These events were always held in luxurious locations, and the best food served alongside champagne. Normally, I would have enjoyed people watching and indulging in samples of delicious recipes, but tonight my stomach churned with apprehension.
The huge ballroom was humming with activity when we arrived, people turning their attention to us as we walked across the room toward Giovanni.
Roberto stood beside Papa, his eyes narrowing as he watched us.
I shot the two of them a megawatt smile that covered my true feelings.
I even added a little wave for good measure, with Maximus nodding in their direction as his arm slid around my waist.
Tonight was a show of strength, a display to ensure everyone knew we were unbothered about the threat against me. It was a massive lie, as I was shaken to my core after the night at the opera. I had barely taken more than a sip of liquids all day to ensure I didn’t need to pee tonight.
“There they are!” Giovanni said, opening his arms wide to welcome us. Gabriel stood silently beside him, looking awkward. “My son makes a striking husband, and his beautiful wife turns all our heads.”
“You’re lucky Mum never attends these events,” Maximus chided him.
“Nonsense! Your mother knows I am loyal to her, and her alone. That woman made me her devoted slave many years ago, and I still dance to her tune.” He kissed both my cheeks in his familiar greeting.
I glanced at Gabriel since outsiders were generally frowned upon at these gatherings.
“I am here as his son-in-law since the other has fallen from grace,” Gabriel said without me posing the question. “Apparently Giovanni likes to have someone with him, so he doesn’t have to talk to fools.”
Giovanni glared at him, pursing his lips together. “A lot of good that has done so far. You just stare at people and occasionally growl. They then revert to talking to me.” He rolled his eyes to demonstrate his disgust at the situation.
I hid my smile behind my hand since everyone here knew that Giovanni was a terrible gossip, and loved to know everything.
“I have come to join the new extension of our family.” Papa appeared beside me, Roberto wearing his sulking expression as he trailed behind him.
“You are looking well, Olivia.” He pressed a kiss to my cheek, and I locked my knees in place to remain, since he never usually indulged in any sign of affection.
“Good evening,” Roberto said, lifting his glass in a silent salute before turning his attention to the room.
“How’s Mama?” I asked, already knowing the answer. She had taken herself back to England to visit her sister, which meant they had argued again.
“Doing the very best. She would benefit from a visit from her youngest daughter,” Papa replied. “I believe she is suffering from empty nest syndrome.”
“Roberto is still at home, so I’m sure that nest is fine,” I replied, earning a disgusted stare from my brother.
“I have my own nest, thank you very much,” Roberto snapped. “No offence, but I just don’t invite any of you there.”
“No offence taken,” Maximus replied. “I have no intention of inviting you to our home, as I don’t like you.”
No one ever dared to speak to my brother like that, and static electricity sparked between the two men. A waiter interrupted the moment with a tray filled with glasses. I reached out to take one, and Maximus grabbed my hand instead.
“We have a bottle behind the bar,” he said without any further explanation.
“Paranoia is a mental health issue,” Roberto taunted.
“Not at all,” Maximus replied. “I only drink the finest, and refuse to accept anything less than that.” He motioned a man who I recognised from Giovanni’s security patrol. He appeared a moment later with a pre-prepared tray filled with glasses and hors d'oeuvres.
I lifted a glass and took a sip, the bubble tickling my tongue. It was excellent quality champagne as Maximus had said. He took a glass of whiskey, holding it to the light for a moment before he tasted it.
“Thanks.” He lifted a tasty morsel, eating it in one bite, the picture of nonchalance.
I shook my head when offered the tray filled with treats, my stomach so tight with tension that I thought I would be sick if I ate anything.
“How’s everyone else?” I asked. The only way I would step back into that house was if Mama or one of my sisters was there.
Roberto sighed before looking at me. “Have I messaged you since you got married.” I shook my head in reply. “Then why would you think I would message any of my other sisters?”
“You are such a dick,” I retaliated, narrowing my eyes. “One day you’ll fall off your high horse, and break your ass.”
“Not before I see you get your comeuppance for being such a cheeky brat,” he snarled, his top lip lifting. “You still owe me twenty million dollars.”
“I would advise you to watch your tone when speaking to my wife,” Maximus said.
“My sister,” Roberto stated.
“My wife,” Maximus corrected. “Olivia is an extension of me, and I do not take insults lightly.” He took a sip of his whisky, and viewed Roberto like he was something nasty he had wiped from his shoe.
“In my world, we do not speak to our family like that,” Gabriel said. “I would cut the tongue out of a person who spoke to my sister like that.” His quiet speech made his words even more threatening.
“I have a lot of sisters,” Roberto replied, sipping his drink, and eyeballing Gabriel. “They become expendable after a while.”
“You always were a twisted little shit,” Maximus said. “There’s a reason every father in the network avoids you, and it’s because they don’t want their daughters tarnished by your perversion.”
My ears picked up at that since I had heard some hushed rumours over the years. They had Roberto’s name attached to them.
“Says the man who owns sex clubs,” Roberto sneered, the familiar lifting of his upper lip showing his contempt.
Maximus’ full lips widened in a grin. “Indeed, but we make sure our clients are vetted to avoid the spreading of anything nasty.”