by Soraya Naomi
Hoping my answers will prompt his, I explain with excessive hand gestures, “Tara spoke to me for a minute and then left. She said, and I quote, I’m his wife. And that it’s kind of sad the way you’re playing me, so that’s why she told me.”
“That’s all?”
“Yes.”
Forcefully, he cradles my face and bends down since he’s towering over me. “Listen to me. I’m not playing any game. We’re married because she won’t divorce me. She always wants money from me.”
I attempt to pry off his hands. “She won’t divorce you?”
“No, she won’t. And I can’t do it myself because she locked my files.”
“She’s a hacker?”
“Yes.”
I try to shake him off, but he won’t budge. “Why do you still have your ring? And how long have you been married?”
“I simply forgot about the ring. We married when I was eighteen, but I’ve wanted a divorce for four years. She only used me and cheated on me relentlessly.”
“Is she the reason why you were such a manwhore when we met? Did she break your heart?”
“Yes, but that has nothing to do with us.”
I throw my hands in the air in disbelief, finally able to shove him away, yet he merely takes a steady step back. “It has everything to do with us. She’s the fucking reason why you’re such a commitment-phobe.” Every encounter between us during the last few months flies through my mind. “Who else knows you’re married? Do my brothers know?”
“No one knows,” he replies.
I palm my forehead while the truth slams into me, and my eyes cut to him. “And you don’t want your boss to know you’re married to a civilian, do you? I’m not as stupid as you seem to think...” I say as another upsetting thought arises. “She’s the reason why you don’t trust me. You didn’t trust me enough to confide in me!”
He glances away. “No, that’s not it. It was because she threatened you. Keano and Tara...They—”
“They? What do you mean they?” I glower at him before adding, “Were she and Keano working together?”
When Henry hesitates, I prompt, practically stomping my foot, “Tell me the truth for once, Henry.”
His jaw clenches. “Yes, she was his accomplice.”
“Oh, my god.” I start to pace the room. “What have you been up to?”
“I’ve been trying to protect you, goddammit,” he objects, his hard stare following my every move.
Memories barrage me. So many signs and gut feelings I disregarded. Henry’s always evasive when it comes to answering my questions. He frequently distracts me with sex. He’s sometimes a million miles away. Oftentimes, I sense that he’s hiding something from me. Although I wasn’t prepared for a bomb of this size.
“Were you trying to protect me or yourself? Your boss doesn’t know you’re married, and you just happened to fall for me right when you got closer to my brother. And you didn’t want to tell him about us until after my kidnapping happened, by which time, we were already outed. Do you even love me or have you simply used me to secure your position? To get into Adriano’s good graces!”
“No,” he bellows. “Stop jumping to conclusions. Dammit!”
“Wait a minute! She wanted money from you, so you have to see her to pay her? Do you fuck her?”
With a chilling grunt, he approaches me, grabbing my shoulders. “Of course I don’t fuck her. I didn’t pay her, and her plan failed when we caught them both, and they’re fucking dead now.”
“Her plan? What plan?” I demand, pushing my hand against his hard chest, so he lets me go, surveying me intently.
“Tara roped Keano into trying to hack into Club 7’s system to steal money. She instructed him to date you and then keep you away from me. When she showed up at the beach, it was the first time I’d seen her in years. She supposedly wanted money and then she would give me my divorce, so I played along. But that was all a ruse. And their badly-thought-out plan was ruined when you dumped Keano and Carmine and I locked him up at the warehouse.”
“So Adriano knows that Tara was Keano’s accomplice and your wife? And who killed them – a member or one of the high ranking men?” I fire my questions at rapid speed, not wanting to give him the opportunity to cover up with new lies.
Silence stretches on while we glare at one another with hostility until he admits, “I killed them both, and Adriano doesn’t know Tara was my wife. He only knows she was his lover and accomplice and that they’re dealt with now.”
I let out a discouraged sigh. “And you don’t want Adriano to find out you lied? That’s what this is about.”
He scrubs his hand over his mouth in irritation. “No. Maybe at first but not anymore. Not after I...fell for you.”
When I realize how easily I’ve been fooled, I weave my hands in my curls in despair. “But it was about that in the beginning? Oh, my god. I’m so gullible. Keano used me, and you used me too. Why should I believe anything you say? I let you pull away constantly, telling myself it was because of your damn commitment issues. And you were so manipulative, evading my questions. I fell for your lies hook, line, and sinker! Do I even know you?”
“Yes,” he throws back, crowding me again until I hit the window. “You’re the only one who does.”
I go on my tiptoes, not needing him to make me feel so short. “This is what lying does; you lose your credibility.”
He folds his hand over my neck, angling my chin up with his thumb in a terrifying, controlled manner. “I said stop jumping to conclusions. Everything I do is to protect you.”
I grip his jacket, sneering, “No. All you do is order me around. You fuck me, but you can’t even tell me you love me.” His nostrils flare, yet I continue, “Before today, I wholeheartedly trusted you and I asked you to trust me too, over and over, because I felt, deep down, you were holding something back. But I made myself believe we have something special. All the while, you’re married to another woman and lying to my face, every day and every night.”
“Jesus fucking Christ!” he whisper-shouts in a tormented tone. “She was my wife on paper only, Mary.”
I assess him in disbelief as my eyes begin to tear up. “You don’t even get what you’ve done, do you? You’re so damaged by her. She’s made you distrust women, and you ruined us before we even had a chance.”
His glare is promptly back in place as his grip on my neck intensifies. “What are you saying?”
“I’m saying you still haven’t bothered to address the fact that you can’t even say that you love me, Henry.”
A crease forms in his forehead as his muscles ripple in rage. “You assume I don’t love you. I just...just give me some time.”
Until this moment, the moment he confirms that he doesn’t love me, I’ve valiantly fought to keep my tears from falling. But now they roll down my cheeks, and he dips his head, brushing his lips over mine.
“Don’t cry, Mary. You’re making everything much worse in your head. I may have had more Syndicate-centered motives at first, but that changed weeks ago. Don’t doubt that.”
“But you don’t love me,” I mutter, my heart splintering into tiny pieces.
In reaction, he tries to seduce me, as anticipated. He kisses me, a strong and insistent play of lips and tongue that forces my mouth open.
“Kiss me back.” He pulls me flush against him with a possessive growl he has no right to make.
Nonetheless, I drown in the sin of his kiss, as always. Henry nudges me back against the window, pushing his bulge between my legs. But when he breaks our kiss, my sanity returns and I propel him backward with all my power. I need space to think, without his sexual advances muddling my mind.
“Stop trying to distract me with sex!” I sag back against the window, touching my swollen lips he’s branded as his so deeply. “I don’t know whether or not to believe you. I’m so disappointed in you.”
Henry grips his hair, messing up the strands, and as we lock eyes, the cracks in my soul expand, a v
ast emotional distance growing between us.
In this dismal moment, I realize that Henry and I were a beautiful lie. I made up a fairy tale while living in an anarchic mafia world, and again, I’m in a deceitful relationship, the one thing I wanted to avoid. All of a sudden, I feel like I’ve aged decades. The naïveté was knocked out of me the second Henry broke my heart.
As the tears burn my skin, I utter, ever so softly, “All I asked was for you to be honest. And in this fucking Syndicate world, that’s important because now I question everything.” Angrily, I swipe my cheeks with the backs of my hands. “We should’ve stayed just friends.”
“We were never just friends,” he counters, incensed yet with moisture in his gaze.
Mustering up all my courage, I glance away, no longer able to look at him, because the dream I built up in my head has been completely demolished.
Then I order him for once, “You need to go.”
He straightens, rising to his full height in the most imposing fashion. “No, I’m not going.”
“Then I’ll go.” I march forward, but Henry grabs my arm, fixing me with a terrifying glare.
“You’ll stay here. Be mad at me all you want, but you won’t put yourself in danger and roam around outside at night just to piss me off. I’ll give you some time to let this sink in, but you will not shut me out. I’ll come by tomorrow.”
“You don’t have a say in it anymore,” I retort dejectedly, and a muscle ticks in his jaw as I pull myself free.
For several seconds, we simply have a standoff, and I don’t falter under his unrelenting scowl until he turns on his heel, grumbling, “Goddammit!” before he shifts into the hallway and slams the door closed.
I drop to the floor, finally getting knocked off cloud nine in the most horrible way. For what seems like an endless amount of time, I remain huddled on the floor, overwhelmed by all the thoughts flying through my brain, but the loudest of them keeps resonating like an alarm that won’t stop.
He’s married and lied to me from the beginning.
When the doorbell rings, I shiver and wipe my tears before treading to the door and opening it to find Adriano.
“Hey.” His brows furrow when he notes my red-rimmed eyes. “What’s wrong?”
“Everything,” I sob as he pulls me into his arms.
Should I tell Adriano?
If I reveal the truth to my brother, then Henry’s a dead man.
CHAPTER 35
Henry
In a completely different frame of mind than when I got here, I charge out of the elevator, infuriated at everyone and everything, but mostly at myself. I’m outraged that Tara managed to ruin it for me.
By the time I get to the reception area, I’m a devastated mess and I rush toward the guard, palming his throat and banging him against the wall as I bark, “Someone talked to Mary at the coffee shop, idiot. You’re done in this Syndicate.” Then I release him harshly. “Give me your gun.”
“Sir, but Mary seemed fine—”
“Hand over your gun and get out of my fucking sight,” I repeat, and he forks over his weapon, which I stash in the back waistband of my jeans before striding out into the fog-shrouded night.
Needing to blow off some steam, I hightail it home, skating red lights recklessly while the clouds rumble and raindrops pour down.
***
Inside my apartment, I snatch off the leather wristband with the wedding ring and fling it across the room, letting it clank against the window.
Absolutely unhinged since I thought my Tara issue was all over, I burst into the kitchen, reaching underneath the sink to grab my bottle of whiskey and a shot glass. After pouring a shot, I down it instantly and fix another one, which I take to my bedroom.
For the second fucking time in my life, I’ve let a woman unbalance me. Yet not even when I found out that Tara was cheating on me did I feel this depressed and maddened simultaneously.
Shucking off my jacket, I sink down onto the bed, dropping my head in my hands. Although I knew damn well Mary would be furious if she ever discovered the truth, I didn’t anticipate her shutting down on me like she did. But of course, I get that her reaction was because she had to find out everything from Tara instead of me. If I had confessed, would Mary have reacted so fiercely?
Why can’t she see that I did everything to protect her?
Because you can’t even tell her you love her, motherfucker.
But I’m incapable of saying those three words to her unless I’m positive, and I never actually lied to her, albeit some say omission is the same thing.
When it comes down to it, I have no one else to blame but myself. Nevertheless, it’s all out in the open now and she just needs to process it. Eventually, she’ll come to her senses and understand how much I did to safeguard her.
As I sit here with a harassing sensation that cuts into my soul, I grasp that I might even love Mary and I should stop being a pussy and admit it out loud to her. It’s not going to kill me, and ultimately, I’m not prepared to lose her.
But because it’s Mary, I honor her wishes and stay away, expecting her to call me the next day.
***
Much to my dismay, Mary doesn’t contact me on Saturday, and I miss her vibrant presence in my life as if I haven’t spoken to her in weeks. I’m used to talking to her throughout the day, and now that I don’t have that, I realize she was right – we already had a relationship, only, I held back. All along the way, she was easygoing, giving me every opportunity to come clean and trust her, but I didn’t. I was a fucking idiot.
As Saturday turns into a cloudy Sunday, my uneasiness reaches new heights. It’s unlike Mary to stay mad; she’s not that kind of woman, and her normally carefree attitude is one of the things that attracted me to her in the first place. So her silence leads me to consider another possible scenario that becomes more likely when, on Sunday morning, my phone rings as I’m nursing a whiskey on the couch.
“Hello,” I answer.
“Henry,” Adriano says. “We need to talk.”
“About what?” I ask, my mind still obsessing about Mary.
“My sister.”
Abruptly, I straighten as the possibility of a whole new set of problems arises.
“I’ve spoken to Mary. I expect to see you at my apartment in an hour. Don’t be late.” He cuts the call.
This conversation sends me into a different mode: unadulterated dread and panic. Mary has told her brother about my lie. She chose to throw me to the wolves without talking to me first, and there’s no way out now. The clusterfuck I created has culminated into my being summoned by the boss.
I exit without my gun. If she spilled the beans, there’s no point in having it anyway.
***
When I arrive at Adriano’s loft apartment, I see we’re alone. With nervousness filling me, I follow him into kitchen where he takes a sip of his coffee, evaluating me.
“How are you, Henry?”
“I’m fine. Why?” I retort, confused by how calm he is. I anticipated meeting with a livid Adriano.
“Mary told me you two had a fight.”
“Yes, we did. How is she?”
“She’s upset, of course,” he answers.
Hearing about her sadness hurts me more than my own. Mary has a grip on my soul, and I’m ashamed that it’s taken me this long to own up to it. I’ve only been focused on fucking her.
“So what happens now?” I ask, not wanting to put off the inevitable, exhausted and drained all of a sudden.
He tilts his head. “I just wanted to make sure you’re okay. That’s why I asked you to come before brunch.”
What the fuck is he talking about? He still wants me to stay for the family brunch?
“And I can tell you’ve been drinking.”
This is about my inebriated state? Baffled, I stay quiet.
He hesitates before continuing, “I just happened to drop by her apartment Friday night. Apparently, you’d just left and I found her crying. She to
ld me how you guys fought because she can’t handle when you’re in danger.”
With his explanation, I realize that Mary’s covered for me.
She didn’t snitch.
She just made up a story to save my ass.
She’s protected me.
To my great relief, I place a hand on the kitchen counter, releasing a loaded breath. She’s been nothing but trustworthy – even after discovering I lied. How the fuck can I not love her?
Thinking quickly, I say to him, “Yeah, it was our first fight and she wanted some space, hence why I had breakfast with Jack Daniels.”
He casts me a questioning look. “Just don’t do that too often. Having a significant other in this Syndicate will be trying at times, but it’s worth it. Remember that you chose each other, and you’ll need to learn to handle Mary too. Make her feel safe by not confiding in her about our lives behind the scenes.”
Inwardly, I smile because Mary’s brother is telling me the opposite of what Mary’s told me. If I lie again, she’ll never forgive me. However, I do need to walk a fine line if I want to be with Mary. And I do. I’ll give her more than only fucking; I’m ready to tell her I love her. She deserves to know, and I’m obliged to say it.
“It’s difficult because she wants to be in the know.”
He waves the comment away. “She thinks that, but if she knew more gruesome details about how we enforce our power, she wouldn’t be able to handle it. I don’t tell Cam everything. And Luca always keeps Fallon out of business. I told her that sometimes, for her protection, you won’t be able to share things, but that set her off.”
Fuck! Bad time to mention protecting her, Adriano.
Again, I smile on the inside, needing to speak to her right away. “I need to talk to her.”
“Mary and Cam went to get food for brunch. They should be back soon,” he explains, just as the door opens. “Speak of the devil,” he finishes our chat, moving toward Cam and the baby stroller as she steps inside.
Mary’s right behind her, and she freezes when she notices me, glancing at Adriano, but he’s preoccupied with his baby and wife. After not seeing Mary for what feels like weeks but is merely two days, I’m mesmerized by the beauty mark above her plump lips and the way her tight, knee-length dress accentuates her luscious curves. My desire for this woman is so deep that it never fades, and I’ve missed her with an intensity that pains me.
