Page 34 of Always Meant To Be

He’s quiet for a moment while I walk out the door, heading to my Mercedes. I climb in before he answers, “He is. He’s still not telling us where he hid the 50k he stole from us….”

“Keep him alive; I’m on my way,” I state.

He jokes, “What, can’t trust your baby brother to uncover the truth?”

I start the car, breathing heavily, and I state, “My wife is pregnant and just handed me a separation agreement before slamming the guest bedroom door in my face.”

He’s quiet for a beat before saying, “He’ll be breathing.”

I hang up with his confirmation before throwing my phone on the passenger seat, and spinning out of the drive, the guard only just opening the gate for me.

I need to get this anger out, and then I need to figure out a way to get Elena to listen to me and hopefully forgive me for not saving her from that bullet.

Two hours, that’s how long I’ve been torturing Arnold. It took me twenty minutes, three cut-off fingers, and several missing nails for him to squeal about where he hid the money. Another forty minutes, a missing ear, and several stab wounds in his leg for one of my men to find the money and count it. And then another five minutes, and a missing hand for him to admit that he raped and murdered a woman married to one of my men.

Cale killed himself when he found Paula dead in their home four weeks ago.

“Fuck me, it’s like a bloodbath in here,” Antonio mutters as I pull the knife out of Arnold's leg. He’s barely conscious, and I’m covered in his splattered blood, but I don’t give a shit.

Elena’s adamant she wants to leave, but I won’t fucking let her.

“Rome?” Leonardo questions with concern, and I breathe heavily as I stab Arnold in the stomach four times, then slice his throat.

I wasn’t going to make him suffer; I thought he’d just stolen money. The plan was to find said money, see who his accomplice was, and then shoot him in the head, but then he admitted to what he did to Paula, and that was it.

Our organization values family, and I got their revenge.

“She handed me separation papers. She’s adamant about leaving,” I rasp.

Pain like no other fills me.

“Surely you’re not going to let her?” Antonio asks with fury, and I look at him.

“I didn’t spend six fucking years protecting that whore to lose my wife now. I need to convince her how I feel,” I admit as I drop the knife.

I shake my head in frustration and walk to the door as Leonardo asks, “What will you do,fratello?”

I look his way. “Ensure I’m always around her. I’ll be working around my wife for the foreseeable future, and if I have to go away for business, like with the Cartel next week, then she’ll be coming with me.”

They both nod, and I head to my car. Now, my fury has subsided, and my understanding of her way of seeing things has crystalized. I need to plan.

For years, she’s watched me hover over her sister, allowing her sister to fawn over me and touch me, and I know for a fact if it was the other way round, blood would be spilled.

I can see why she thinks I’d want Liliya, but it's time my wife understood that I had to act that way for her safety because of the danger Liliya was putting her in, and I couldn’t exactly kill her sister even if I wanted to.

I was bound by a contract I couldn’t break because my fucking father had our lawyer draft it up, not rereading it before we signed.

It takes twenty minutes for me to get home. I’m fucking happy the warehouse is on the outside of Brooklyn, so I don’t have to go through city traffic.

I take the stairs two at a time, not caring that I’m covered in blood, and head to my wife’s temporary bedroom. I bang on the door several times before I hear it unclick, and she opens it a little, only to gasp in horror and open it wider.

I smile my eyes taking in the way her hair cascades down her shoulders, and I rasp, “See, that right there means you still love me, which means you’re not leaving.”

She ignores my words, her eyes taking in the blood and stutters, “Y-your’e b-bleeding….”

I shake my head, and lean forward, gently kissing her forehead, ensuring not to get blood on her white lace nightgownthat I would love to rip off her right now, and whisper, “It’s not mine; it’s from a traitor who raped and killed a Made Man's wife four weeks ago.”

Her eyes widen, and she gasps. “Paula….”