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Becoming her Salvation (Zanetti Famiglia Book 7)

Page 18

by Hayley Faiman


  “Sal, what the fuck?” he barks.

  “What now?”

  “Nothing, just what the fuck?” he asks, his tone a bit softer.

  I don’t know, but I don’t tell him that. Instead, I let out a sigh and take another drink from the bottle. The booze doesn’t even burn as it slides down my throat anymore. That’s probably not a good sign, but I don’t care.

  “I’m just checking on her,” I admit.

  There is a long moment of silence, and he sighs. “She doesn’t want me to tell you. So, I won’t. But this, you calling me and sending messages through me and her doing the same shit. It ends right now.”

  “Massimo,” I rasp.

  “Nope,” he snaps. “Absolutely fucking not. She’s your wife. You either stay with her or divorce her. I honestly don’t give a fuck what you do, just do it and get it over with. Because if you do, we gotta figure out what the fuck we’re going to do with her and that kid.”

  There is a long moment of silence, then I clear my throat before I speak. “What do you mean, figure out what you’re gonna do with her and the kid?” I ask.

  Massimo chuckles. “She cannot live here forever, cugino. I have a family here. She’s family, but there isn’t space for her and a newborn forever.”

  “She needs her sister,” I state.

  He hums. “She needs her husband more.”

  I don’t end the call, even though I really want to hang up on him. I don’t, because he’s not wrong. She does need me, but she doesn’t at the same time. I can’t protect her the way that she needs. I can’t protect any woman.

  So, instead, I’ll be alone. It’s better this way.

  “You’re such a pussy,” Massimo grinds out before he ends the call.

  He’s right. I am just that. Instead of getting in my car, driving to her, grabbing her, and bringing Rosana home, I stay on my balcony and drink. Eventually, I fall asleep then I dream. But instead of Abriana’s spirit waking me up at three fifty-two, it’s visions of Rosana.

  ROSANA

  Pippa swears she’s going to chop off Salvatore’s balls, and I don’t advise her to do any different. I’m down with that. I may even help at this point.

  Pressing my lips together, silent tears fall from my eyes and down my cheeks. I don’t make a sound though, there’s no point in being extra dramatic.

  Not a single fucking point.

  He’s made his decision and I’m going to have to live with that. What I won’t do is beg him to love me. To give a shit about me. To take care of me.

  I can get another job, I can get my own place, and I can take care of this baby on my own. I shouldn’t have run to him for help in the first place. I should have taken care of shit myself. I failed myself is what I did. Salvatore didn’t fail me. I failed my damn self.

  “I’m going to go to sleep. I had a long day and tomorrow is going to be just as long,” I say, looking Pippa directly in the eyes.

  She shakes her head. “Tomorrow you’re going to sit around here all day and do nothing but let me take care of you,” she announces.

  Massimo grunts, but doesn’t say anything. I watch as he stands and makes his way outside, his phone to his ear. Shaking my head, I look over to my sister. My big sister, the one who has sacrificed so much for me, and it didn’t matter because I fucked my shit completely up.

  “Pippa,” I whisper. Her gaze finds mine, and she holds it for a long moment. “I made this bed, and it’s up to me to fix it. Nobody else.”

  “We’re family, let me help you, at least until the baby comes.” Her voice pleads with me, but I have to stand firm. Inhaling a deep breath, I shake my head again.

  “No, Pippa,” I say. “This is me. This is my shit. I’m going back to my apartment and I’m going to look for another job in the city.”

  “Don’t go that far,” she begs.

  It’s not that far, but I know what she’s saying. Living with Salvatore, I was only a few miles away from her. Being in the city will be a longer drive to visit, something that is going to have to be planned out, not spontaneous at all.

  I totally understand where she’s coming from, but I can’t stay here. I can’t stay in this area and I can’t stay with them. I refuse to impose. I need to grow up. It’s time.

  They aren’t just a married couple. Massimo is no longer in prison. They have a family and it wouldn’t be right for me to stay here with them for longer than a few days. Even if it would be really, really easy to stay with Pippa and let her take care of me.

  I’m an adult now, though. This is my problem, this is my situation, and it’s time that I take control of my life. I tried going for help, I tried letting Salvatore take care of me and all it did was end up with me being in a worse place than I was before.

  He helped me get rid of Miguel, but emotionally, I’m a big ass mess. At least I never really felt anything toward Miguel. I felt nothing but relief leaving him. With Salvatore, I feel like he’s ripped out a part of me, stomped on it, and kicked it away, never to be seen again.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  SALVATORE

  I should not be here. I should be balls deep inside someone else, even if I have to pay for it. I should be trying to forget about Rosana, about my marriage, about the family that we were going to have. I should try to forget it all—but I can’t forget a fucking thing.

  Not the smell of her.

  Not the taste of her.

  Not the way she laughs.

  Not her voice.

  Nothing.

  It’s all right there, and it doesn’t stop, it doesn’t go away. Inhaling a deep breath, I watch her walk out of her building. I’m a fucking stalker, but I can’t let it go. She’s back in her apartment, alone.

  I’ve been watching her for a month. Watching her comings and goings, making sure that Courtney was full of shit, which it seems like she definitely was. I don’t see any signs of anyone else watching her and I keep telling myself that this is why I watch her.

  Every day.

  All day.

  My phone rings and I dig it out of my pocket, my gaze unable to stay off of Rosana’s ass as she walks down the street toward her job interview, the third one just this week.

  “Salvatore,” I growl into the phone.

  There is a moment of silence, and just when I’m about to end the call, I hear a woman’s voice on the other end.

  “When are you planning on coming back to the office, Sal?” she asks.

  Closing my eyes, I let out a sigh. I need to get back to the office. I’ve been neglecting my job and I don’t have one that I can actually fucking neglect. Clearing my throat, I lift my hand and run my fingers through my hair.

  “Kimberly,” I mutter.

  “We have files, court dates, and paperwork coming out of our ears, Salvatore. I’m sorry that your marriage is a mess, but you’re needed here.”

  I don’t ask her how she knows. She drew up the goddamn documents herself. I couldn’t do it. I physically could not do it. Because I’m as Massimo said—a pussy.

  “I need to go to visit a client this morning, then I will be in.”

  Ending the call, I don’t bother saying goodbye to her. Reluctantly, I leave Rosana and head toward Gavino’s. It’s been a few days since I’ve checked on him. He was in the hospital well over two weeks with his injuries.

  It doesn’t take me too long to get to his place, and I’m not surprised to see five cars in the driveway. Arlo has been by his side, unable to leave him since this shit went down. I don’t blame him. At one point they told us that he wasn’t going to make it.

  Jogging toward the front door, I lift my hand and knock loudly three times. It only takes a few moments for it to swing open. I’m met with a frazzled-looking Luciana.

  “You okay, bella?” I ask.

  She shakes her head, her eyes wide, but she doesn’t cry. Instead, she takes a step to the side, letting out a heavy sigh. “He’s going to be the death of me,” she snaps as I walk past her. “He is a fucking diva.


  I laugh as I continue into the house. She closes the door behind me, but I can’t help myself, I continue to chuckle. She’s right, he is exactly that and I’m sure he’s been running her completely ragged.

  “Do you need anything?” I ask, turning to her. “Need me to come over for a few hours late tonight and just do whatever he needs while you sleep?”

  This is when her eyes water, at this moment. “I can’t ask you to do that. Arlo has helped a little. It’s not like I’m completely alone.”

  Reaching out, I take her hand and give it a squeeze. “Need me to take the kids outside to play for a few hours tomorrow afternoon? Get them out of your hair? Whatever you need, Luciana.” She lifts her hand, wiping her tears away.

  “No, but Jesus, you’re a godsend, you know that?”

  Chuckling, I shake my head. “I’m really not.”

  She straightens her shoulders, shaking her head a couple of times, and looks up at me with a bit brighter expression. As if just my offering has somehow lifted some of the stress from her life. I haven’t done shit. I don’t know why she looks that way, but she doesn’t explain it. She just smiles and guides me toward their bedroom, where Gavino is resting.

  “You’re alive,” I call out as I walk into the bedroom. It’s the same shit I say every time I come to visit him.

  “Fuck off,” he groans in the same way that he always does.

  Laughing, I sit down in the seat across from him. “How are you feeling?” I ask.

  “I’m tired of motherfuckers asking me that every goddamn day,” he snaps. Arlo, who is sitting in the other chair in the room, only chuckles.

  “I’ve been watching funny videos and showing them to him all day, he’s not impressed with much,” Arlo announces.

  Sitting back, I cross my feet at the ankles in front of me. “You ready to get the fuck out of that bed, then?” I ask.

  Gavino snorts. “If the warden would let me, I fucking would,” he growls. “She is adhering to the doctor’s strict orders. I should start being able to move around next week. For now, she hovers.”

  “Big thing that happened,” Arlo says.

  He’s not wrong. Gavino was close to not making it. So close that I had to get his will out and go over the famiglia part of it with Arlo, just in case. It wasn’t something that I ever want to do again. Not in a million fucking years.

  “You fix your shit with your wife?” Gavino asks out of nowhere.

  My torso jerks and I shake my head once before I shift my gaze to meet his. “She’s safe and sound in her apartment in the city. Going on an interview as we speak.”

  “You want her, Sal. Just fucking take her home, fuck her, and demand forgiveness. Don’t be an idiot. Rosana is a good wife.”

  “Gavino,” I warn.

  He lifts his hand with a groan and waves it around. “When I woke up, I got a second chance at life, cugino. I realized that I need to spend more time with Ciana and the babies,” he says. “Put yourself in my shoes. Can you say that you are fulfilled?

  “I know that if I left tomorrow, my family would know that I love them. Even if I don’t spend as much time with them as I should, they know how I feel about them. Can you say the same?”

  “She’s not my family. Neither is the baby,” I admit, even saying the words causes my stomach to clench.

  Gavino shakes his head, his eyes finding mine and holding my gaze. “Then you’re a bigger fool than I ever thought you were, and she deserves better.”

  The fucker of his words is that I can’t even argue with him that he’s wrong. Because he’s not. I’m a fucking fool. Rosana is my family and so is that child inside of her. It’s mine. She’s mine. But I can’t keep them, it would be selfish because I can’t protect them the way that they deserve.

  ROSANA

  I can feel someone watching me. I don’t know who it is or why, but they watch me all the time. I think they even watch me while I sleep, which sounds so ridiculous considering I’m far too high in the air to be seen from the street. Unless they’re in the building across from mine, with a telescope, it’s just not plausible.

  But nonetheless, I feel it.

  The divorce papers have been signed, sealed, and delivered so I highly doubt that it’s Salvatore checking up on me. Salvatore, who wants nothing to do with me. Salvatore, who owns me until he’s through with me. I want to hate him, but I don’t. I can’t. He saved me in more ways than just one, even if it was only for a little while.

  Closing my eyes, I let my head fall back against the sofa and try not to envision him, but I fail. I try not to imagine his hands on me, everywhere, his mouth—his tongue. Lifting my head, I blink, forcing his image out of my mind.

  Fuck. Him. I may not hate him, but that doesn’t mean that I’m not angry with him. I am, extremely.

  A knock on my door causes my spine to straighten. Standing, I slowly walk over and look through the peephole. I frown at the sight of Valerius. I haven’t seen him since the day that he dropped me off at Massimo’s over a month ago.

  Reaching for the door handle, I start to open it when I freeze. Why would he be here? How did he know where I lived? He’d only ever come to Salvatore’s place when I lived with him, I didn’t even tell Valerius what street my apartment was located on, let alone the building and apartment number.

  Again, why?

  I watch him for a moment while I deliberate answering the door. He shifts from side to side and my breath hitches at how nervous he seems. Slipping my hand into the pocket of my cardigan, I’m glad that it’s there.

  Backing away slowly, I scroll through the names on my phone, and my fingers shake. I don’t have anyone to call. Not really. I could call Massimo, but he’s not responsible for me. Nobody is. There is just me and I can’t call the cops because I am famiglia no matter what and famiglia doesn’t call the cops.

  “I know you’re there, Rosana. I just want to check on you,” Valerius calls out.

  Biting my bottom lip, I shove my phone back in my pocket. He won’t hurt me. At least that’s what I tell myself. He’s not going to hurt me, not here, not me. Walking back over to the door, I slowly open it, plastering a smile on my face as I do.

  “Valerius, what are you doing here?” I ask as I step to the side.

  Don’t act suspicious. I repeat to myself over and over again. It’s probably nothing. He’s just a concerned friend. I don’t believe what I’m saying to myself, but it doesn’t matter, I just continue thinking it over and over.

  “I just wanted to check on you,” he says again as he walks over to my sofa and makes himself comfortable.

  I make my way over to the chair across from him and sink down, though I sit on the edge, ready to make my escape at any time. I’m not sure where I’ll be going, and I highly doubt I’d ever get past him, but it’s a good thought, I tell myself.

  “I’m okay,” I say, trying to keep my voice as even and my tone as normal as possible.

  He watches me, tilting his head to the side, then he smiles. “I’ve been worried,” he murmurs, flicking his gaze down to my stomach. “You’re starting to show a little. You get to the doctor and everything?”

  To the outside eye, he looks like a concerned friend. Inside my warning radar is going off like crazy because this seems all sorts of wrong. He’s no longer fidgety like he was on the other side of the door. Instead he’s completely calm—too calm.

  “Valerius,” I breathe. His gaze lifts to mine. “Why are you here?”

  His lips curve up into a smile. And the man I know is gone. Valerius has always been this friendly, comforting person to me. He’s not that right now, and I wonder if he ever really was or if it was all a charade.

  “Courtney,” he admits at the same time my spine straightens at the mention of her name. “She was mine.” My eyes widen, but before I can say anything else, he shakes his head. “I loved her.”

  “She duped you, too?” I ask.

  He nods his head, then shakes it as if he can’t quite mak
e up his mind. “She did, and she didn’t, but it doesn’t matter because she’s gone and Salvatore is the one who killed her.”

  I gasp, lifting my hand to my lips, but he still doesn’t stop, he continues. Tears fill my eyes, not just from his story, but selfishly for my own safety, because right now I’m not sure he’s stable.

  “So, I have no choice, Rosana.”

  “You always have a choice,” I say calmly. “Always.”

  Sliding my hand in my pocket, I touch the screen a few times, hoping that my phone will contact Salvatore since I had his contact information up last. Honestly, I don’t give a shit who it calls as long as someone saves me.

  Here I am again, hoping and praying for a savior, since I can’t fucking save myself.

  “No, I don’t,” Valerius rasps as he stands. “I’m going to keep you, Rosana. You’re going to do whatever I want in order to save your life and your baby’s.”

  “No,” I whisper.

  He grins, leaning forward. “Yes. Salvatore took Courtney and now I’m taking you. It’s a lot easier for me. He doesn’t want to be married to you anymore, but he still wants you. He still wants to be inside of you and I’m going to be right where he longs to be. So, it’s a win for me and you get to keep breathing as long as you do what I want.”

  “And my baby?” I ask, trying to stall.

  He grins. “It’ll have my last name. It’s mine, your mine, and you’ll have more.”

  “So you’ll rape me? Because I’m not going to fuck you willingly,” I snap.

  Valerius laughs, he keeps fucking laughing like this is funny. Like this isn’t my life, like it’s some big joke. Like he’s winning at something, but he’s not. He’s not winning at anything. He’s doing nothing but destroying.

  “If that’s what it takes, yeah, I will.”

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  SALVATORE

 

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