He promised he’d never lie to me again, and he just flat-out lied to my face.Fuck him. Screw this.I will not be the wife who just sits around and looks pretty, coming out of her cage when it suits her husband.
As I’m walking down the hall, an arm wraps around my waist and my feet are lifted from the floor. “Argh, put me down.” My fist slams into whatever part of his body I can reach from this angle, which isn’t much.
“Divorce papers, really, Antonia? In what fucking world do you think I’d ever sign fucking divorce papers?” Carlo growls against my ear.
“In the world where you continue to lie to me even though you promised you wouldn’t.”
He walks into an empty bedroom, and then my body lands on a mattress, his torso covering mine so that I can’t move. “Keeping painful truths from you for your own good isn’t lying.”
“Yes, it is,” I grit out through clenched teeth. “Either you tell me the truth, or whatever hopes you had of having a happy marriage are slashed. I will not be kept in the closet, Carlo Bianchi.”
He stares at me for a moment. Then he sighs. “Your father isn’t just trying to kill me, Antonia.”
“What? Who else is he after?” I ask him.
“You,” he says. “Which I will not let happen.”
I laugh. “He’s not going to kill me, Carlo.” I shake my head. Denial is a son of a bitch.
“Are you sure about that? The chef said that bowl of soup was supposed to go to you, not me.”
I freeze, a chill traveling up my spine. “What?”
“I’m not going to let anything happen to you.” Carlo leans down and presses his lips against mine.
“My plan will still work,” I tell him.
“If you ever mentiondivorceagain, I will lock you away somewhere. You are not leaving me, Antonia,” he says, without addressing my idea.
I don’t doubt for a minute that he would follow through with his threat. “Then don’t lie to me, Carlo. Don’t give me a reason to want to leave,” I tell him. “Don’t break me again.”
Chapter Thirty-Five
Antonia’s words repeat in my head.Don’t break me again.Breaking this woman was the last thing I ever wanted to do.
When she stormed out of Emmanuel’s office with her threats of divorce papers, I saw fucking red. There is no universe where I’d grant her a divorce. She’s delusional if she thought that wouldhappen. But I understand her need for honesty. I understand where her lack of trust comes from.
Me. I’m the reason she’s wary. I broke the blind trust she once had in me, and I have to work to rebuild it. And I will.
“How did I let you fuckers talk me into this shit?” I grunt.
“Because you know it’s the quickest and easiest way to get him,” Louie says.
“He’s right,” Sammie agrees.
“I don’t know what you’re worried about. Your wife can handle her own just fine,” Emmanuel adds.
“I can’t fucking wait for you to have a wife and have to put her in a position where she could be hurt.” I glare at him.
The asshole smirks at me. “If it were my wife, she wouldn’t be out there.”
“Then why the fuck did you think it was a good idea for Antonia to go through with this fucked-up plan?” I yell at him.
“Because she’snotmy wife. And Louie is right. It’s the quickest way to get the old bastard so we can all go home,” Emmanuel replies. “Relax. I have a hundred men surrounding this building. He isn’t getting out of there alive.”
“I’m not concerned about him getting out alive,” I mutter. I’m concerned that my wife is in that room with a fucking asshole who wants to kill her. The same asshole who happens to be her father.
We have eyes in the restaurant. The whole place is monitored, our snipers have him in their sights with instructions to fire at any sign of trouble. I’d prefer if my wife wasn’t fucking in that room when they do it, though.
