Page 148 of Mafia And Maid
“Fuck!” My hands tighten around the steering wheel. It feels like someone has put my heart into a vise. It stings, watching her turn her back on me like that. Knowing that no matter what I do, no matter how hard I claw myself up, it doesn’t matter.
But it’s my own damn fault for thinking I could have something more. Isn’t this what I deserve?
The tires squeal as I tear from the curb, dialing Alessio’s number as I go. It rings twice before he picks up. “I’m heading there now. I’ll deal with the fucker. Have him ready.”
“Camil—"
I hang up before Alessio can protest or pester me with questions. Torturing a snitch is just the type of therapy I need right now.
And it’ll take my mind off the fact that they’ve all been right. Every voice that haunts my nightmares and subconscious was right about me. I am a monster.
And monsters don’t get happy endings...
CHAPTER 37
ROSA
Every bone in my body is exhausted. Ethan’s compact frame is sprawled out on the covers of the bed, and his suit, the one he picked to match Camillo’s, is rumpled.
I sigh, shaking my head as I brush the blond strands from Ethan’s forehead. I don’t quite know how to tell him we’ll be staying here.
I eye my phone on the table next to my purse. I want to text Camillo. To tell him to come back and pick us up now. My fingers itch to dial his number, but I know it’ll cause problems with my family.
“Rosa!”
I wince at Reagan’s sharp knock on the door as I glance at Ethan. One beat, then another, and I push from the mattress and to the door. “Shh,” I whisper to my sister, closing the door behind me. “He’s taking a nap.”
“Good. He won’t get in our hair. You’re needed downstairs.”
“Ethan’s been perfectly behaved today, and he always is,” I clip, irritated at her implied criticism of him. But she’s not listening, and I sigh and watch as she struts down the hallway toward the stairs. I stiffen my spine and hold my head up high. The crowd of family, friends, and acquaintances—people who would have found ita personal snub not to be invited today—still linger among the lower level of the house. People who sat by and watched with their fake smiles and pleasantries while my life was sold away years ago.
I enter my father’s old office. The smell of cigars lingers in the air, the smoke woven into the imported rug like a second layer. It’s a smell that haunts my nightmares, alongside Grayden’s rancid breath. My mother dabs her eyes as she leans into my sister’s embrace.
“You need me?”
“Yes.” My mother lifts her chin, though it wobbles. “We have so much to do before the funeral at the end of the week. I just—” A sob breaks her voice.
“What can I do to help you?”
“Well, you can start by getting everyone out,” Reagan clips. “I can’t do it—I have a nail appointment. And it’s clear Mother’s distraught.”
I blink.
“Then you can call the relatives to inform them of the funeral date. Then you need to contact the lawyer about the will Daddy left.”
“Mother hasn’t done that yet?”
“Rosa,” Reagan admonishes when my mother once more makes a strangled sob, “This isn’t easy for her or me.Youleft the house, so you wouldn’t understand the painwe’regoing through right now. Try to look at it from our point of view. Stop being selfish.”
“What?” It’s Camillo’s voice in my head that spits the words back.Selfish?Me? A fire ignites in my belly, knowing just how he’d want me to stand up for myself, to call them out on their bullshit, as he’d put it.
“It’s the least you can do after causing such a scene earlier.”
“I didn’t mean to cause a scene.”
“But you did. It’s so very typical of you. What in God’s name were you thinking bringing someone else here today?” Reagan hisses. “You’remarried, or have you forgotten that? How do you think that makes us look? Makesmelook? Did you think about that before you invited him here?”
“I’m sorry.” I wince as my apology comes out quickly. I’ve become so used to apologizing all my life that it’s hard to not do it automatically like I just have. “I just—”