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CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

Dario

She looked at me in the back of the car like I was some sort of devil incarnate.

It was as if all the time we spent together where I tried to be gentle and kind was already erased from her memory. She didn’t trust me again. And part of her looked afraid…and disgusted.

That hurt. I kept my expression blank, not wanting her to sense that I was conflicted. My desire to keep her and the baby safe warred with my need for control.

More pressing matters needed my attention though. The doctor.

My blood boiled when I saw his number. It was a number that I used to contact him when I was younger, stupid, and still felt like I needed an ally.

The doctor loved to help unfortunate, misguided souls. I would know, I was one.

Is that what he was doing for Mya? It didn’t matter. I would get the truth from him soon. In the meantime, his betrayal stung, but it took two to tango, so to speak, and his partner in crime was sitting there across from me.

“I know what you’re doing. I heard what you said.”

What was she talking about? “You’re going to have to be more specific.”

If she could have hit me, she would have.

“Where’s Dr. Kali?”

“That’s none of your concern.”

“I swear if you hurt him, I’ll?—”

“What? You’ll do what exactly?” I knew I shouldn’t have mocked her, but I was annoyed.

Admittedly, I liked to push her buttons. I liked it when she was angry. The way her breathing picked up, her eyes narrowed, and the look of determination in her eyes—I loved it.

If she’d had a gun, I would be dead, I was sure. I liked her fire. It appealed to me.

Shaking her head, she shot me a look of disgust that would have made a weaker man flinch. “I hate you. Dr. Kali is innocent…”

“Really? So, you just had his number for what reason exactly?”

She turned away from me and just stared out the window. Up until that moment, she had looked ready to breathe fire. Now, she didn’t even want to make eye contact. Did she really hate me? Well, I deserved it.

“Tell me about your plans to leave me, Mya.”

At my words, she nervously looked at me and then turned away again. She was silent. And the heavy silence bothered me more than I wanted her to know.

Is that what was going to happen? The silent treatment, again? It was a shame…I’d gotten used to hearing her voice.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

I didn’t respond. I should have known her first instinct would have been to lie. I would have done the same.

People who betrayed me didn’t live long enough to talk about it. Yet, I would rather be betrayed by her a hundred times than be without her.

“Let’s try again, shall we?” I shifted closer to her. “Why did you have the doctor’s number? What were your plans? Were the two of you plotting with Matteo behind my back?”

The thought of her or the doctor collaborating with that piece of trash hurt. Hurt wasn’t a feeling I was used to dealing with, but in the last few hours, that’s exactly what I had felt. And I hated the feeling more than anything else.

“I wouldn’t ever work with Matteo.” Her disgust was evident when she said Matteo’s name. It was as if the very thought of him disgusted her. I knew the feeling.

“But the doctor?”

“He would never betray you. You can believe what you want, Dario. You’re going to anyway. You’re being paranoid.”

“I’m giving you the chance to clear the air. Confess.”

She smiled wryly, the action humorless and full of sadness. I felt my heart ache. The sadness is what I had caused.

I had blamed Jason for so long for making her unhappy, and now here I was, causing her the same kind of pain. But what was even worse was that she was pregnant with my child. Our child.

And so far, that child had been growing inside a mother who was sad, scared, and who probably felt very alone.

Those were feelings I knew all too well. Feelings that had been my constant companion as a child after my mother’s death. I had vowed never to feel that way again, and yet, that was the type of pain I’d inflicted on Mya.

“It’s regrettable that you felt compelled to seek out the doctor’s help?—”

“Compelled?” she said bitterly, still not looking at me. “You gave me no choice in the matter. I haven’t had a choice in anything since you showed up on my doorstep. Don’t pretend that you care now. You didn’t care then. You don’t care now. The baby won’t change that.”

My jaw tightened. Is that how she thought I felt?

“I do care?—”

“Stop—”

“Mya—”

“Stop!” she screamed.

No one spoke to me that way and lived. I demanded respect, order, and obedience. Yet here she was, challenging me at every turn.

Her hands were shaking. I’d upset her. Pushed her too hard.

I grew angry with myself. I needed to try a different approach. Anything she felt, the baby felt. It was my job to protect them both…even from myself.

She continued talking. Her voice shook.

“You blame me for wanting to leave, for wanting to escape. What choice did I have, Dario? Your life is full of violence. You don’t care about anyone else but yourself. And the one person I thought I could trust, you sicked your team on. You don’t care about anyone. Anyone! And least of all, me.”

For the first time in my life, I didn’t have a rebuttal. I felt raw, torn open from the inside out. Is that how she felt? Is that how she really felt? Is that how I had made her feel?

I told myself that she was wrong, irrational, and emotional. It was my job to make sure she saw reason.

“You have a right to feel any way you want to feel.”

“No kidding.”

Is this who I’d made her become? She sounded bitter and mean.

I pushed forward anyway. “Despite how you perceive the situation?—”

“How I perceive the situation? Are you fucking kidding me? You forced me into a marriage I didn’t want. You took away all my agency. You stole me from my life, Dario! That’s what the fucking situation is!”

Fuck it. The kid gloves were coming off. I tried to be gentle. Fuck it.

“Your life? I stole you from what exactly, Mya? A life of imprisonment? A life of being a number in a tiny cell? Is that what I ‘stole’ you from? Even if you got away with killing Nico, which you definitely would not have, by the way, what kind of life do you think you would have led after killing someone in cold blood? You think you would have pulled the trigger, and your precious Jason would have just sprung up from the dead? One life for another? Clean and simple?”

“Don’t you dare mention Jason.”

“Why? Isn’t that who you want to run to? The same man who got you into this mess?”

“You didn’t know him.”

“I knew about him.”

Her voice was cold as she looked at me, saying, “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Jason worked for Matteo.”

“He would have never worked for someone like him!”

Her denial was vehement, but in her eyes, I could see the first signs of doubt. Maybe I was a monster because I took advantage of that moment.

“Are you telling me there weren’t times when he disappeared, and you didn’t know where he was or what he was doing?”

“He was a cop,” she began. “He couldn’t tell me everything.”

“Like who all his associates were?”

“No matter what you say, I’m not going to let you sully his memory. Jason was a good man?—”

“A good man who worked for Matteo. Try again.”

“He would never.”

I shook my head, tired of arguing, “Believe what you want. I’ll show you proof. I’m done trying to convince you of who Jason was.”

Her eyes searched mine, and then she turned away from me. I supposed the conversation was over. Good. I didn’t think I could take it anymore.

Jason was the angel, and I was the villain.

I should have stopped there, but I was feeling prickly. She’d hit a nerve.

“If I were lying, Mya, then I’d like you to explain to me how Jason died. Why would Jason have even known a man like Nico if he wasn’t involved in things he never should have been wrapped up in? You think good cops get murdered by men like Nico?”

She stayed silent.

Finally, she didn’t have anything to say. I’d won. “The way Jason died proves that he wasn’t the man you thought he was.”