Page 41 of Sweet Prison
“How?” I choke out.
“Salvatore Ajello,” he says. “I don’t know how that motherfucker managed to pull off what I and the good-for-nothing McBride couldn’t do for years, but he did. Ajello’s personal attorney arrived with my idiot lawyer this morning, bringing the required paperwork. I was released an hour later.”
He’s standing so near that his body heat is seeping into me. The blood in my veins turns molten. The breath disappears from my lungs. Bone-shaking tremors rack me inside out, completely obliterating any logical thought.
Massimo’s eyes drop to my chest, focusing on the platinum chain and the delicate pearl and diamond teardrop pendant hanging off it. “You’re wearing my gift.”
“Yes,” I choke out, my throat feeling so dry and raw. “I… I have to take it off before I go to sleep, but it doesn’t irritate my skin otherwise.”
“Good. Saves me a trip to Paris to off Mr. Dubois.”
“So… you’re a free man.” Somehow, I’m able to keep my voice from breaking.
I knew this day would come eventually. And I’m so damn happy. For him. But I also want to curl into a ball and weep, because this means, whatever this relationship is between the two of us, it’s over. He doesn’t need me anymore.
After today, I’ll lose him.
“Yes.” He nods. The tips of his fingers glide over the smooth skin under my left eye, lingering there for a second, but then his hand falls away. “I saw Nera downstairs. Just as I promised, she can leave Cosa Nostra at any time, and I told her so.”
I fight my tears, barely keeping them at bay. “And you? What are you going to do now?”
“I’ll be summoning the Council and setting up the official takeover of the Family for this weekend. Then, I’m going to focus on finding whoever has been fucking with my life and keeping me in that cage. Once that’s done, I’ll kill the bastard. Or bastards. Whatever.” He glances around the room. “But first, I’ll have this house leveled, as well as everything else that belonged to Batista Leone. You should start packing.”
Yeah, I guess I should. Whirling around, I head toward my bed where it’s pushed into the corner of the room. My legs are trembling so hard, I expect them to fold under me any second.
Holy hell, I can still feel his touch on my face. For just a second_a tiny fraction of a moment_I let those long-suppressed hopes and dreams flare up within me, let myself believe that things between us may have changed. Over the years, he’s clearly opened to me. I felt it deep inside my soul. From the day I confronted him in prison, the Massimo I knew transformed into something more. His letters became a lot more open, sharing details about his prison life. His thoughts. His struggles. Even some regrets. And as his letters turned more and more personal, I almost convinced myself that he could have developed some feelings. For me.
A humorless laugh nearly escapes me. I’m still just an idiot who doesn’t know when to quit.Wake up, Zahara! Can’t you see he wants you out of his life right away?
“Kai has an apartment downtown, so we’ll move everything there for now,” I mumble. “We’ll be out of your way by the end of the day.”
I have two big suitcases shoved under the bed. Pulling out the larger one, I drag it in front of the dresser and open it right there on the floor. The heat of Massimo’s eyes boring into my back is nearly scalding as I start yanking out my clothes and haphazardly dropping everything into the suitcase.
Why is he still standing there?I’m this close to losing my composure, and having him here is making this whole situation a hundred times worse.
I grab a black satin dress off the hook on the closet door and just dump it into the suitcase along with the hanger. It took me almost an hour to iron it last night, but that hardly seems to matter right now. My new lace blouse is next. Then, the cashmere coat. I don’t even pay attention to whether anything gets torn or damaged. I just throw in one thing after the other, trying to “pack” as fast as possible because I can’t handle being this close to him while I quietly fall apart.
Will I ever see him again?
Behind me, the rhythmic scrape of leather soles on a hardwood floor. Getting closer. My breathing quickens. I pick up my pace, now throwing garments by the armful into the suitcase, while Massimo looms at my back. He’s close enough that his next exhale fans across the top of my head. I squeeze my eyes shut, trying to hold myself together.
“I think you misunderstood.” The velvety timbre of his voice washes over me, and I try to commit it to memory. It might be the last time I hear it.
“Misunderstood what?” I croak.
“You’re not leaving with your sister.” Massimo dips his head until his mouth is right next to my ear. “You’re coming with me.”
My body goes utterly still. He’s standing so, so close, there’s barely any space between us. His stubble lightly brushes my cheek, the rest of him maintaining not much more than the suggestion of distance. Yet still, it feels as if I’m somehow being drawn into his chest. His warm breath wafts over my overheated skin, making me lightheaded while I struggle to process his words.
“Why?” I ask, clutching my maroon alpaca cardigan like a lifeline. Is this simply another one of his games?
He doesn’t answer. For what feels like an eternity, Massimo just stands there at my back like some huge immovable statue. My question was simple, so I don’t understand why it takes him so long to reply. Perhaps… perhaps he does feel something toward me after all?
“Because I need you, Zahara.”
The pounding of my heart skyrockets, becoming so loud it thunders in my ears. Warmth explodes in my chest, swelling and radiating toward my weakened limbs, overtaking my entire—
“I need someone I can trust. Someone who knows what’s at stake and who can fill me in on everything I’ve missed.”