Page 38 of House of Lies
“I haven’t been myself lately. Perhaps I don’t see things as clearly as I used to,” Ermanno explains, sitting in the chair behind his desk. Suddenly, he appears old and weary.
It’s a look I don’t see very often. Ermanno wears his mask with pride and confidence, appearing unshakeable—or so it seems. I can’t help but pity him. The more time I spend with him, the more I see his true self—a frail old man barely clinging to the power and glory he once possessed. I contemplate whether allowing him to live would be more cruel than putting a bullet between his eyes.
“We can discuss this another day.”
My plan and Sevastyan’s align to a certain extent. He believes it would be best for me to remain in New York and take over what remains of Ermanno’s empire when I’m finished with him. It’s a foolish plan. I have no intention of rebuilding someone else’s crumbling empire when I have mine waiting for me back home.
“We will. Soon enough. But there’s something else, Mattia,” Ermanno continues. I raise an eyebrow, taking a sip of whiskey. “You need an heir. And if your wife can’t provide one, find someone who can.”
I tighten my grip on the fragile glass, afraid it might shatter. I stand at a crossroads, aware of what Mattia would say but struggling to filter my rage. Caelia would have given Mattia an heir if he had been smart enough to stop and consider how he treated his wife.
There is blood on his hands that no amount of prayers will cleanse. There is blood on his hands that no God will ever forgive.
“I’m working on it.” I grin.
I am indeed working on something, but having a child is not a priority on my list. It doesn’t even make it to the list. I leave him alone in his office, utterly exhausted. I have no solace to offer to a man like him. I will only be angry if I don’t cause his death. Domenico follows me silently outside the mansion. Ludovic stops to nag me about going to a club he knows with him. Apparently, I will find the release I need there. The only release I need awaits me at Mattia’s home.
“Perhaps another day.” I dismiss him. “I have business to attend to.”
I place my hand on Ludovic’s shoulder, keeping it there momentarily, but it leaves my skin prickling. He holds a grudge against me for what happened at the wedding. He confronted me about what I did, as I expected. I fed him a lie about how I’m trying to leave Caelia pregnant and how I need her to trust me until she gives me an heir. He asked me if he could have her after. It took all my self-control not to kill him. I can’t even look at him for too long before the memory of how he grabbed Caelia flashes inside my mind, and I want to strangle him. He’s part of the business, but not entirely. He’s the spoiled child who doesn’t know the meaning of consequences. But he will learn soon enough.
“Do you want me to drive, sir?” Domenico offers.
I shake my head, pulling the keys out of my pocket. A storm brews outside, making the drive to the mansion unnecessarily long and painful. When I arrive home, Caelia is nowhere to be found. Tonight, I’m inexplicably furious. It puts me on edge, constantly surrounded by Ermanno’s and Mattia’s men. Domenico was sent to work for Mattia years before all the loopholes in my revenge were ironed out. I’m not delusional enough to believe that nothing can still go wrong. This game involves too many pawns on the board.
“Where’s Caelia, Dmitri?” I ask, concerned for her safety rather than her activities.
One of them always stays with her and guards her.
“Outside, sir. She refused to come inside. Told me to go fuck myself.”
I smirk. Her resistance is always oddly comforting. It’s one of the few things I can count on these days. I make my way outside, standing in the rain. A chill settles in my bones as I see Caelia in the pool. Serenely floating, her long red hair fans around her like a halo. She appears to be so peaceful and calm. My heart constricts, and worst-case scenarios flood my mind. My feet move instinctively, carrying me closer to the pool until I stand at its edge. In a split second, I remove my shoes and jacket, my mind racing with fear as I wait for any sign of life. My breath catches in my throat, and the fear inside me turns into something else I can’t name. I can only breathe again when she lets out a startled scream as I jump into the pool. The cold water engulfs me, chilling me to the core. The rain continues to pour, making the water slippery. I reach for her, wrapping my hands around her waist. Relief floods my chest as she resurfaces, her eyes wide with surprise, squirming in my arms. We both go underwater for a few seconds.
“Mattia?” Caelia looks over her shoulder when we resurface, pushing her hair away from her face. Only now do I realize that the water is shallow enough to stand. “What the hell are you doing?” She stops struggling, allowing me to hold her close.
“You scared the hell out of me. I thought you were dead.”
“I thought nothing scared you,” she responds, turning into my arms and suppressing a smile.
Caelia is right. I’ve been going through life so far, thinking nothing can scare me. I’m not afraid of betrayal, bloodshed, violence, or death. And I wish I could tell her she’s right—that this is my nature and that I can’t find anything to fill the void within. But it would be a lie.
“So you believe the thought of my wife drowning doesn’t scare me?”
She crosses her arms around my waist. I don’t know what made her think that swimming with her clothes on during a night like this was a good idea.
“I don’t know. Does it?” She raises an eyebrow, pressing her chest against mine.
I swallow, the air suddenly feeling too heavy. Caelia brushes a lock of hair away from my forehead, gazing into my eyes. There are so many lies on the tip of my tongue. I could take advantage of this moment when she seems so vulnerable. Her voice sounds amused, but she’s faking it. Nothing is amusing about the thought of her death.
“It does, Wildfire. It fucking terrifies me.” I’m too obsessed to let her go. Caelia hates Mattia so deeply she will most likely never be able to imagine a future by his side, which benefits me in the long run. Not tonight. I know she won’t believe me. “If you die, I won’t be dancing on your grave.”
“Will you open a bottle of champagne, though?”
“I only do that to celebrate the death of my enemies.”
“And I’m not your enemy?”
Considering how he’s treated her, Mattia might see her as his enemy. But I don’t. I’m trying to turn her into my ally. I’m going to.