Page 48

Afterward, Emma and I lay beside each other in bed. Her head rested on my outstretched arm, and she was angled toward me. Her gaze was distant, thoughtful.
I knew I hadn’t convinced her with my bullshit explanation for my second phone. And my sex distraction wouldn’t work for long. Fuck. I should have been more careful, but I had allowed myself to really feel at home and hadn’t been as vigilant. Thatwas the problem with letting your guard down, especially if you had secrets like I did.
Emma’s gaze focused on me, but she didn’t say anything.
I hated lying to her. It was a shitty start to our marriage, but I couldn’t tell her about my contact with Fina. The fact remained that she was part of the Camorra through her marriage to Remo fucking Falcone, and I shouldn’t even consider talking to her. She’d chosen him, so it wasn’t too far-fetched to worry that she might manipulate me to gather intel on Outfit business. At least, that was what my charge would say. Fina and I had never talked about anything remotely related to business. I hardly even told her anything of importance from my private life, which was why our contact had grown less frequent over the years. She’d made her choice, and she couldn’t have both Remo and me. I’d come to terms with losing my twin. I hardly missed her anymore. Too much time had passed since we’d been close. More often than not, I regretted even trying to save her. Fuck, had I known she was getting cozy with her kidnapper, I wouldn’t have gone on that fucking suicide mission and gotten Arlo, Enea, and Domenico killed. Bitterness and guilt filled my chest like a thick plume of smoke. I untangled myself from Emma and sat up.
“What’s wrong?” Emma asked, confused. She had begun to doze off, but I had woken her with my sudden movement.
Fuck. I schooled my face into a neutral mask. “I forgot to answer an important email. I have the details on my desk. I’ll just head down there and get this done. You should try to sleep.”
Emma nodded slowly, but I could tell she was hesitant to believe me.
I covered her with the blanket and gave her a small smile, then pushed to my feet and put on pajama bottoms. After checking that her wheelchair was in her reach, I left the room, closing the door after me.
The moment I was outside in the corridor, anger and regret over my decisions from the past resurfaced. A voice in my head beckoned me to silence those voices with booze. It never worked for long, but even a short reprieve seemed like mercy right now. I hurried down the staircase and into my office, where I grabbed a new bottle of gin from the shelf and sank down on the sofa in front of the cold fireplace. I unscrewed the bottle, then took a long swig, leaned back, and closed my eyes. Memories from ten years ago took form before my eyes as they always did when I was in this kind of mood or when I slept.
I remembered each of my friends’ faces shortly before we headed out on our rescue mission to Las Vegas. Their laughter, their trust in me, their confidence that together we could save my sister.
A bitter chuckle left my mouth, and I took an even longer swig, enjoying the burn and the way the alcohol numbed some of my emotions.
The words Domenico’s mother had spoken shortly after his death crossed my mind.
“You sacrificed my boy for your traitorous whore of a sister. He could still be alive! And the man who murdered him? He gets to enjoy himself and your sister. He gets to taunt us with his existence, and you do nothing.”
She was right. I had done nothing to avenge my friends after my sister ran off with Remo. Domenico’s mother didn’t even know that I’d secretly gone to Serafina’s wedding to Remo. Only Dad and Dante knew. What they didn’t know was that I was still in contact with Fina. Sometimes I wondered if Dad suspected it. He didn’t mention it, though. I should have killed Remo that day and tried to kill as many of his brothers as possible before they executed me, but I hadn’t even tried. Not from fear of dying. No, I had seen how much Fina loved that psycho, and I hadn’t been able to hurt her.
I took another swig.
So many years had passed since then, and my view of that day had changed drastically over time. I should have killed Remo. It probably wouldn’t have freed Fina of his hold, but it would have lifted some of the guilt from my shoulders and made this world a safer place.
Maybe I would one day get the chance again, though I doubted it. Dante hadn’t sent me on a mission into Camorra territory ever since, not even close, and I doubted he would any time soon. Maybe he knew that I might hesitate before killing Remo.
I took another swig. Now my continued contact with Fina threatened my marriage to Emma when it already posed a risk to my life.
Fuck. Maybe I needed to cut all ties and make the move I had been too weak to do for myself. I wanted this marriage to work out for Emma’s sake. I couldn’t change my mistakes from the past, but I could try not to ruin more lives with future mistakes.
I took an even bigger swig, then another until my body was too numb to feel.
When I woke in the middle of the night, Samuel wasn’t in bed with me. I sat up and turned on the light. Blinking against the sudden brightness, I put on my nightgown which lay beside me and scooted to the edge, then slid into my wheelchair.
What if he’d lied? What if he was with F. right this very moment?
I shook my head and moved toward the elevator in the hallway, then let it take me downstairs. It was dark except for a sliver of light coming from Samuel’s office at the end of the hallway branching off the entryway. I followed the light. The door was ajar, but it was silent behind it. Swallowing, I nudged the door with my hand, and it swung inward. I wheeled inside, then stopped when I spotted Samuel on the couch, his head tilted to the side, his expression softer than usual in sleep. It couldn’t be comfortable for him to sleep like this. I moved closerand noticed the almost empty bottle of gin beside Samuel on the sofa. How much had he drunk? I got even closer, and the intense smell of alcohol hit me. Considering how deeply Samuel slept despite being a Made Man and trained to be vigilant, I feared he’d drunk most of the liquor tonight.
Why? Because I’d accused him of cheating? Because I was right? Samuel didn’t strike me as someone who would let that bring him to his knees. But how well did I really know my husband?
His phone must have dropped to the floor. It lay beside his naked foot on the hardwood floor. It was his second phone. Supposedly his phone for unsavory characters. Keeping my eyes on Samuel, I bent forward, trying not to make a sound, and reached for the phone.
Should I really spy on him again after his reaction yesterday?
With my fingertips against the phone, I hesitated. Samuel wanted me to trust him, but his actions made it difficult. Why did he come down here to get drunk?
A battle raged inside me. I hated being like this, so distrusting. I wanted to believe Samuel. But his secrecy and all the words that our society had put in my head were messing with me. I hated it. My fingers curled around the phone when Samuel stirred. I jerked up, dropping the phone. Samuel leaped up, pulling his gun, his eyes harsh until they settled on me. I was frozen in shock.
Slowly, he sank back down and lowered his gun.
“Fuck, Emma, I could have hurt you. Why did you sneak up on me?” He put the gun back down where it had rested beside him on the sofa.