Page 58 of His Vicious Vow
“So…you’re here for the panic attacks?”
I shrug. “I guess.”
A half-smile flashes. “Guess? No, my dear, complete honesty is required in this room. I can’t help you without it. It starts with yourself.” This time the question is firmer. “Why are you here, Carina?”
“I’ve spent the last eight years pretending to be someone else.” I gesture at myself. “I was thinking before I left to come here. This person is a stranger. While I was in Florence and over the last few days I stayed away from mirrors. When it’s not the short skirt and too much eyeliner and makeup, I didn’t recognize her. I didn’t think she was strong or brave enough. Now I recognize it was weaker to hide behind a mask—to be someone else rather than fix what I didn’t like about who she was. And it wasn’t that I didn’t like her—I didn’t like…”
“What Carina?” She prompts me.
“I didn’t like that she had no say in her life. I didn’t like that I liked the world of the mafia. The knowledge that I didn’t have the same worries as the other kids around me in school made me proud. Celia wanted to believe no one knew we were the kids of a capo in the Outfit.” I shake my head. “The kids knew and if they didn’t their parents did. We were protected from bullying, from boys feeling us up, from teachers treating us like crap.”
Unease fills me all over again at my admission. Does she see it? “I can understand that. Maybe if this were a different world where we were all safer, it might be different. Sadly, this isn’t a safe place—almost anywhere anymore.”
“It’s not weird? I called Sandro a psycho but I can’t help wonder if it’s because I recognized it in myself. Fear pushed me away, to hide from the fact I liked this world because I was afraid what that made me as a person. The person I feel most comfortable in the Outfit is a man Carlo believed should be called the grim reaper with all the men he’s killed. Yet, he’s also one of the few who has shown me the most kindness.”
Ruth tilts her head as she considers my words. “Not all ‘good’ people do good things. And not all ‘bad’ people do only bad things. Often people are doing what they feel they must. You grew up in a world not only insulated from bad, it was a bubble of that world where things people would think were abhorrent were the norm. Normalizing actions and a mindset within the bubble is a way of maintaining control of those within the bubble.”
I’m trying to process what she’s saying when she continues.
“One of the reasons I was accepting of becoming your therapist is I quite agree with the tenets of the Outfit. I spoke with Mr. Sabatini who outlined what things might come up—in a hypothetical situation.” A ghost of a smile flickers on her mouth. “I have had to listen to some of the most vile things. Things that made me wish I was a violent woman. When I told Mr. Sabatini things he offered to take care of the vile things.”
I nod. “That’s the Sabatini family.”
Her chuckle is rich and throaty. “I think it would be a relief to know you live in a bubble that protects you from the violence in the world even if it protects with violence.”
“I feel safe in this world. But I feel guilty because I’m not willing to pay the price others have to for the security.” I worry.
“You are paying a price, in a different way. As you said, you have to give up cosplaying. If you had wanted to continue on in it that would be painful to sacrifice. There are many things you won’t be able to do. I’m guessing even more people you won’t be able to befriend. While, no, it’s not nearly as…difficult as what a man would have to do there are trade offs for you as well.”
I nod. “I did cosplay and didn’t talk to Carlo because I hated feeling like I had no control over my life. In our marriage Sandro will have all the control. But I don’t mind. Which scared me the most. I want to give up control to him.” I bury my face in my hands and for the first time in forever don’t give a shit about my makeup.
“What Carina?” She demands from me.
“I trust him.” I shake my head. “I trust him to do the right thing for me. Even the getting me pregnant thing without my say so. The fact is our marriage is until death—it’s the way of the mafia. Me pregnant sealed that in a way nothing else would to me, not even a ring.” I twirl the stunning engagement ring around my finger. “In the chess game of mafia it makes perfect sense. But also I have no doubt Sandro will be an amazing father and I want him to have the daughter he wants so badly. I want to give him the family he not only wants, he needs.”
“You think he needs a family? Didn’t you say he has a sister?”
“Yes, but she’s already grown and has a life of her own. I think he needs a family because he needs the unconditional love of children. Sandro does this thing where he withdraws into himself but he can’t do that with kids. He won’t do that with his kids.” My palms are suddenly wet. I wipe them over my dress. “I thought he was…a jerk. A worse control freak than Carlo. I was wrong.”
An eyebrow goes up. “I saw some control freak tendencies.”
“He is. But he also understands me in a way I never thought another person could. And he’s willing to loosen control to give me what I need to be happy. He said I could keep going to conventions if I wanted to but no cosplaying. For four days he waited for me to give in to what I knew yet was too embarrassed to admit, that I wanted to be with him. I think that’s where it really hit me. If it were Carlo or nine mafia men out of ten he would have met me at the airport, thrown me in the trunk of a car, and sped toward his private plane back to America. But he didn’t. Sandro wanted to give me the freedom to choose him.” And I think that’s when I knew without a shadow of a doubt I loved him.
Her smile is small. “I hope I can help you. Because it doesn’t feel like you need me as much as you think you do.”
As we set an appointment for next week, I can’t help hoping she’s right.
Walking outside the SUV is in the same place I left it. I hope the guy didn’t get a ticket. Bobby appears to open my door. If Bobby is here it means Sandro is too. As I get closer I see I’m right.
My chest is tight at the sight of Sandro. The scent of his cologne teases me as I get in beside him. Blue eyes roam over me. “What?” I hate it’s barely more than a whisper.
“I wanted to be here in case you needed…support.” I didn’t think his face could harden anymore when I stiffen, resenting the idea I needed to cry on his shoulder after one session of therapy. “Luca mentioned when Bella came for therapy she often needed him for some time as she recovered from the emotional turmoil.”
Shame flashes. I’ve missed him yet I took his attempt to be supportive as an insult. I shrug. “I appreciate the thought but…it wasn’t traumatic or anything. I’m fine.”
A nod then his attention is on his phone.
I deserve the stab of pain. “What do you think of the changes to the penthouse? Bianca wasn’t happy about the wallpaper. Do you not like it?”