40. Veronica
40
VERONICA
The next day…
T he sound of the bell above the door startles me. I turn, and Elena walks into the store, holding a thick envelope. She looks at me and I know instantly this isn’t a casual visit.
“It’s from Maxim,” she says, placing the envelope on the counter. “Thought I’d bring it in person, get some more Austen while I’m here.”
“You’ve already got the complete works.”
“I like different covers for different moods. Sue me.”
The envelope is heavy. I open it, pulling out a folded piece of paper and stacks of cash. The sight of all that money makes my stomach churn, but it’s the letter that pins me in place.
Elena steps back, giving me space, but her watchful eyes stay on me as I unfold the letter. Maxim’s handwriting is sharp and angular, just like him.
Veronica,
I understand now why you didn’t tell me about the baby. Vito is dead and I enjoyed killing him.
The money is for the baby. Use it for whatever you need. I will stay away but I still need your signature to process the divorce.
- Maxim
The words blur on the page as tears fill my eyes. I read between the lines. He’s a man who’s given up on the idea that he could ever be anything other than what his world has made him into.
I press the letter to my chest, the ache in my heart threatening to spill over. “How can he see himself like this?” I say, passing the letter to Elena. “How can he be so kind and so cold at the same time?”
Elena steps closer, resting a hand on my arm. “Because that’s what they’re like. Dmitri and Maxim are cut from the same cloth.
“Both spent their lives building the walls they needed to survive. But you’ve already torn some of Maxim’s down, and he doesn’t know what to do about it.”
I shake my head, my fingers tightening around the letter. “How can I bring a child up with a man like him?”
She doesn’t answer right away, and the silence leaves space for my thoughts to swirl.
“I’m going to raise a child with Dmitri,” she says, touching her stomach. “Or did you forget?”
“No, of course not,” I reply. I glance at the money again, my stomach twisting. Maxim did what no one else could—he ended the threat of Vito Lombardi. But at what cost? Does that kind of violence ever really end?
I sink onto the stool behind the counter, staring out the window as the sunlight continues to pour in. I should feel relief that Vito is gone, that the danger is over, but all I feel is the heavy weight of uncertainty.
Can I raise this child knowing their father is so entrenched in a world of violence? Can Maxim ever change? Or will he always be the man who sees himself as a monster?
“I’ll make us some coffees,” Elena says, disappearing into the back.
I’m about to ask why she disappeared so fast when the door opens and Victor walks in.
His hands are tucked casually into the pockets of his tailored coat, but his eyes are sharp, calculating, and entirely unnerving.
“I thought we should talk,” he says, his voice smooth but commanding. “It seems my son has been too busy slaughtering half the Italians in New York to speak with his wife recently.”
“Fine,” I say, gesturing toward the couch. “Say what you came to say.”
He doesn’t sit. He paces instead, his movements deliberate, his hands clasped behind his back.
He stops pacing, his piercing gaze locking onto mine. “He’s staying away from you and you know why?”
“Why?”
“Because you asked him to. Do you know what that means?”
“It means he’s respecting my boundaries,” I reply evenly, though my heart is racing.
He smiles. “It means he loves you. Enough to put your wishes above his own.”
I don’t know how to respond to that. My mouth opens, but no words come out.
He steps closer, his presence overwhelming. “He killed Vito Lombardi. A man no one else could get near. Wiped out an army of men and all to protect you.” He pauses, his voice softening just slightly. “I thought he tricked us both to gain power. The only person he was lying to was himself.” He shrugs. “And I’d like to be a grandfather while I still can.”
My throat feels tight. “I need him to be someone he can’t be.”
“I gathered,” he says, his tone sharp. “But people can change. Don’t you think? You were a civilian, frightened, alone. You’re now a killer with your spine straight and your head held high. I am proud to have you as my daughter in law.”
I turn away, needing to create space between us. “Why are you telling me this?”
His voice drops, quieter but no less intense. “Because I’ve seen what happens when you focus on the wrong things. I don’t want that for you. Or for my boy.
“The only reason I wanted you to prove your relationship was real was because I wanted it to be. It might not seem that way but I want him to be happy, even if that’s with a civilian.”
I grip the edge of the counter, trying to steady myself. “Your son doesn’t think he’s capable of love.”
He lets out a bitter laugh. “My son is stubborn and blind when it comes to his own heart. But I’ve seen the way he looks at you. He loves you, Veronica. He just doesn’t know how to handle that fact yet.”
He studies me for a moment, his expression unreadable. Then he asks the question I’ve been dreading. “I asked you once before and I’ll ask you again. Do you love him?”
I try to deflect, to brush it off, but the words stick in my throat. He doesn’t let up, his gaze piercing. “Do you love him, Veronica?”
“Yes,” I finally admit. “I do.”
He nods, satisfied. “Then tell him. Raise the child together. Love like this—rare, real love—is worth fighting for. Don’t wait until it’s too late. He’s thinking of moving back to Moscow. Doesn’t see the point in staying here.”
The weight of his words settles over me as he steps toward the door. Before he leaves, he glances back, his expression softer than I’ve ever seen it. And then he’s gone.
Elena appears at once against the counter, her sharp gaze fixed on me. “I heard it all,” she says.
I frown, my fingers curling around the coffee cup. “He said Maxim loves me. You think that’s true?”
Elena tilts her head, studying me. “Do you want it to be true?”
The question hangs in the air, and I feel the knot in my chest tighten. “I don’t know.”
Her expression softens, and she pulls up a chair, sitting across from me. “When I first fell for Dmitri, I thought the same things as you. I didn’t believe a man like him—a mob boss—could be good. I thought love and violence couldn’t exist in the same world.”
I look at her, surprised. “What changed?”
She smiles, a warmth spreading across her face. “He did. He proved me wrong every single day. He’s a wonderful husband, Veronica. And I know he’ll be a great father.”
I let out a shaky breath, my fingers tracing the edge of the letter. “What if Maxim can’t change? What if I risk everything, and he’s still him? He used me to get Marco.”
“And it worked. Life is about tough calls, Vee. You know that. We don’t get them all right but I know Maxim. He’s capable of change. Trust me.”
She leans forward, her hand resting gently over mine. “Change takes time, Veronica. But love can be the reason someone tries. If you love him, and I think you do, isn’t that worth fighting for?”
I bite my lip, tears welling in my eyes. “What if it’s not enough? What if I put my heart out there and he still walks away? What if he’s just like my mom? I’m scared, Elena.”
She squeezes my hand. “I know.”