Chapter 70 I need to see my wife.
CHAPTER 70
I need to see my wife.
SCARLETT – POINT OF VIEW
“Come on, you’ve been soaking for almost an hour, baby,” Eve smiles at me.
I feel scrubbed raw and bruised all over. There’s a gaping hole in my chest, one that might never close. Elena and Eve have been here for the past two hours. Roman hasn’t returned. I know he will. He probably feels guilty now, thinking he made me cry. It would take more than his cruel words to make me cry. I am made of steel, except when it comes to my parents and their dying legacy.
I should have died in the fire.
Wordlessly, I climb out of the tub, naked and dripping water. Elena wraps me in a towel, and I sigh, heading to the bedroom.
Suddenly, the door opens, and someone walks in. Roman.
My heart pounds, and I freeze. I don’t want to see him, not now, not ever. I shouldn’t have cried in his presence. His perception of me is probably ruined now. Is he going to handle me with kid gloves going forward?
I hear his footsteps, “Scarlett?” He calls.
I don’t respond. My face flushes hot like an ember. My hands tremble. I have never felt so naked and empty. Someone scrubbed all my insides and left a wide void.
“Stay here,” Eve tells me, and I nod.
I lean against the wall and listen as she steps out.
“Where is she? Does she need a Doctor?” His voice seeps through, hard and rigid. My skin crawls.
“She doesn’t need a doctor. It was a panic attack. Do you need something, Roman?” Eve’s voice has lost all its warmth.
“Yes, I need to see my wife,” Roman responds just as harshly.
My breath hitches. My pulse pounds hard.
“Do not get ahead of yourself, Sterling. She’s not your wife yet, and even when you do get married, you’ll know that she never wanted to be your wife. Keep the possessiveness for something you care about. Now, run along. She won’t be around for breakfast or even lunch. You’ll see her tonight. Take whatever you need and make yourself scarce until then.”
My mouth falls open in shock at her words, the manner, and the barely contained anger behind them.
“Damn,” Elena whispers, smiling, proud of her.
“You don’t get to talk to me like this, Eve,” Roman warns, and goosebumps break over my skin.
“And, you don’t get to make her cry, but here we are.” She fires back, her rage escaping.
My chest squeezes painfully. Roman hurts me, yes, but that’s the dynamic we have.
He doesn’t respond, and moments later, I hear the door close behind him. Then, I walk into the bedroom to see Eve’s face twisted in rage. It seeps away when she looks at me, but she’s still so angry, her hands clenched.
“I’m fine. I just need to sleep. I’ll be fine.” I tell them as I change into shorts and a tee.
“I know I’m probably not the right person to speak to, considering that I haven’t lost my parents, but I am familiar with grief, the shape of it, the way it creeps in, the way it disarms. Whatever you’re feeling is valid, but it’s not your fault, Scarlett. You don’t have to go into details, but it’s not your fault, and they would be proud of you. If you think for one second that they wouldn’t love you still, then you’re a big clown. I’ve known for a few months, and I love you already. Your parents will always love you.” Elena holds my hands.
I nod, swallowing painfully. I push back the tears and agony. I cling hard to her words.
Eventually, they leave me alone, and I wrap the sheets around me, settling into the warmth, but unfortunately, Roman’s scent has gone so deep. I try to sleep, but it continues evading me. I give up on sleep and surf the internet instead. I try to read a book, but I can’t concentrate.
I don’t have any pictures of my parents, and I don’t want to save them on the phone because Roman is definitely spying on me one way or the other.
Instead, I pull out my Polaroid camera and search for their pictures online. It takes almost thirty minutes, but I finally find some pictures.
My eyes well up as I take pictures of my father, his dark hair, brown eyes, and rough smile. My mom is beside him, beautiful, elegant and way out of his league. I watch the pictures print out and hide them somewhere. I hide one behind my phone, and finally settle on the bed.
I sleep for an hour, then wake up to my alarm.
It’s time for breakfast. The house is quiet, which means everyone’s left already. I know Rick stuck around. They probably think I wouldn’t be able to show up, but I signed a contract. Roman will use this against me, and I can’t allow that.
I surf through my closet before deciding on a short, white, pearl dress. It’s just breakfast, but Italians are elegant. I keep my makeup light, and pack my hair in a tight bun. I remember my rings and add on to the jewellery. I choose a simple kitten heel, then step out, bracing myself for the day.
I find Rick in the living room, face twisted in annoyance, tapping his hand on the table.
He looks at me as I walk into the room.
“Shall we?” I ask with a warm smile.
“We can stay in.” He reminds me, tone thick with restrained rage.
“We can, but this is a job.” I shrug, chest feeling light.
“Every job has sick days.”
“Not this one. Come on, Rick. We’re already late.” I urge.
He sighs and nods.
Together, we step out of the guest mansion, and he leads me into the main mansion. The architecture is absolutely superb. The La Cosa Nostra always have to go all the way out; they need to retain their spot at the top always, and that is done by showing a glimpse of what they have, the money, the mansion, the soldiers, the guns and more. The Sicilians are the only ones who come close.
I never forget my father’s lessons.
Goosebumps break over my skin as he leads me to the grand dining hall.
Milana is seated at the head, with Luca by her side. Her position is about to be someone else.
The table is filled with my people, but not just that. The Familia are here, and so is the bride-to-be. Adeline Salvatore. The Queen of Sicily.
“Thank you for joining us, Scarlett. You’re right on time.” Milana looks at me, eyes filled with intention.
Let the games begin.