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Chapter Twenty-Eight

Lux

“Luxy, I love you so much.”

I wake with a start, not really comprehending the words, but relax into Rafael’s embrace when I realize it’s him.

“Morning,” I murmur, trying to stretch out. Rafael’s entire body is tightly curled around mine, restricting my movements, so I shove him lightly. That’s when the smell hits me.

“S’not morning,” he slurs, flopping onto his back. “No sun, see?”

He points vaguely in the direction of the window, and I wrinkle my nose. My morning sickness tapered off pretty quickly after the first few weeks, but this stench is enough to kickstart it again.

“Except my little sunshine,” he drawls, draping himself across my body again. “Sittle lunshine, I love you. Wait no, I mean sittle lunshine…I mean…”

“Little sunshine,” I finish for him. “Rafael, did you drink the whole bar?”

“Just bourbon,” he hiccups. “Lunshine, I have a secret to tell you.”

My heart skips a beat and I hold my breath, partly from the stench but mostly because Rafael’s secrets are always more like atomic bombs that completely alter my existence. Hoping he’s just wasted, I nod and wave my hand encouragingly for him to continue.

“I did a lot of bad things in my life,” he begins. “Killed too many people, stole too much, and then there’s the guns…”

“Okay, okay, I don’t think I want to know these secrets,” I cut him off, trying to disentangle myself from his grasp.

“But none of it is as bad as what I did to you,” he says gravely, burying his face in the pillow.

“It’s fine, Rafael,” I comfort him, but annoyance builds inside me. “You already told me about the alias and why you did it. We’ve discussed this.”

“No,” he whines, pulling himself out of the pillow pile to glare at me. “New bad thing.”

“New bad thing?” I ask, finally managing to escape his arms. I sit cross-legged on the bed facing him. His shirt is half-unbuttoned and one shoe is missing.

I’ve never seen perfectly polished Rafael looking this rough and it’s a bit unnerving. “Wait, I’ll get you some water.”

I shuffle down the dark hallway, praying he’ll be passed out when I get back. Then I won’t have to hear out about this “new bad thing”.

I’d rather live in denial forever. Things are good now, well, as good as they can be when you’re in a marriage of convenience with a mafia don.

When I come back with the water, he’s unfortunately awake and grabs the glass to chug it down. He lets it fall on the bed and reaches for my hands, staring deep into my eyes. His are a little unfocused and half-open, but I meet them regardless.

“I tried to destroy your life,” he starts, and I stay silent. “I stalked you, set up our meeting at the bar, got you fired from your job, and flooded your apartment.”

“Well, at least you didn’t steal my car,” I retort.

“No, wait,” he says, scratching his face and looking glum. “I maybe did that, too.”

“Okay, Rafael, go to sleep,” I pat his leg, climbing back under the covers. I don’t know what he drank tonight or why he did it so aggressively, but he’s clearly confused.

“Really, Luxy,” he pleads. “I really did all of that, and it’s eating me alive. The guilt, I mean. I can’t spend the rest of my life with you and not tell you.”

“Mhm,” I mutter, choosing to ignore him.

“You can ask Enzo.”

That gets my attention. I roll over, glaring at him. He looks like a lost little boy, all wide-eyed and sad.

“Enzo? What does my boss have to do with this?” I ask slowly.

“He’s not your boss,” he explains. “Well, he is, kind of. But I’m his boss. I just wanted you to have a stable job, a better life…that was before we got married, obviously.”

“Obviously,” I echo, dread pooling in my stomach.

“He’s my tech guy, my intel. He works for me…on the mafia side,” he clarifies, as if I haven’t understood yet. I’m still confused, sleep and the stench of alcohol clouding my judgment, but I decide to humor him.

“Okay, and why did you destroy my life?”

“It was my grand plan,” he says, moving his hands in a rainbow as if he’s showing me something magical. “My favorite form of torture before I killed you for killing my father.”

“Killing…your father?”

My heart thuds, fear coils in my stomach, and I sit up in shock. Things start clicking into place. If what Rafael is telling me is true, then I should be scared—very scared. I scamper out of bed and move to the doorway, staring at him in horror.

“I knew you’d be angry,” he says sadly, hanging his head. “I thought you were working with Mancini, that he was using you as a pawn to kill my father. Vince implied it. So, I decided to get revenge but then when I saw you…you were magical.”

My heartbeat accelerates, beating wildly in my chest, and suddenly I feel like I’m breathing through a straw. He wanted to kill you. This was all a plan to kill you and now you’re married to him.

“Come back to bed?” he begs, panic crossing his face. He starts to get up but gets caught in the sheets and topples back down. Seeing him so useless, I relax a little bit and wander closer to the bed, leaning on one of the posts.

“Why didn’t you kill me?”

“‘Cause I love you,” he says simply, struggling with the sheet wrapped around his ankle. “I’ve never loved anyone, but I love you.”

I sigh, shaking my head, and climb back into bed. I watch him struggle for a second and then grab the sheet, setting him free. He falls back onto the pillows with an oomph and closes his eyes.

“Why do you love me?”

“Sunshine,” he smiles. I shake my head, not wanting to hear more rambling about little sunshine but he stays silent. Turning my head to glance at him, I realize he’s finally passed out.

Long after his snores have filled the room and died down, I lay awake staring at the ceiling. Rafael just keeps dropping bomb after bomb on me. Ever since I met him in that dive bar, my life has become a high-speed rollercoaster, and I have no idea how to get off the ride.

Then I question how much I want to get off the ride. Even though this is all so insane, my life is so much fuller now.

I think back to my old life—scrambling for money every month to pay my rent, juggling all those jobs, eating mayonnaise and crackers for lunch, and for what? To climb into my bed, alone and exhausted every night? To have nothing to show for it and no one to share it with?

Rafael and I are going to be parents , I realize suddenly. A real family . But can I live with the way that it happened? He wanted to kill me—how can I swallow that fact and pretend it doesn’t matter?

I slide my hands down to my lower belly, feeling the small bump that seems to be getting bigger and bigger by the hour.

I imagine raising a child in my old apartment, with my old life, and can’t comprehend how I’d do it. Childcare alone would eat up my entire budget, even if I had ten jobs.

Sighing, I roll onto my side and squeeze my eyes shut. I don’t want to stay with a man who planned to murder me just because my child will have an easier life, do I?

The question replays in my mind, over and over, until sleep finally takes me.