by Robinson, M.
This wasn’t the man I had grown up with. The one I was supposed to live happily ever after with. Spend the rest of my life by his side. This person was someone I didn’t know, recognize, or want any part of. This wasn’t the home I wanted to raise Naz in. It was unhealthy, and he was too young to see it for what it was, but soon we wouldn’t have that leisure.
The last thing I wanted was for him to think this was what love was supposed to be.
It wasn’t.
Not even close.
“What more can I do to have the old Tristian back? Huh?” I basically pleaded. I wasn’t on my knees, although it felt like I was. “Please…” I reached for him. “Come back to me.”
“You didn’t answer my question, Eden. Did. You. Fuck. My. Brother?”
I inhaled a deep, solid breath.
This was my chance to set us free, in hopes that it would be the end of his drinking.
His anger.
This downright uncertainty we were both living in.
I gave him what he wanted, explaining, “It was before we were married.”
I could feel Romeo burning a hole in my back.
If Tristian was shocked, he didn’t show it in the least.
He didn’t show me anything.
“When?” he simply asked.
“I just told you. It was before we were married. You got what you wanted, what you’ve been adamant about knowing. Now, can you please let it go?”
He stepped back, away from me. Making his way toward the door.
“Careful, Eden… words can be sharper than knives, and truths can slice you open.”
He took one last look at me, shifting his eyes toward Romeo.
Surprising us both, he spoke with execution…
“The night of our dinner rehearsal, you left your jacket in her suite. May want to ask her what she did with it. It was a nice fucking jacket.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
“I’m not a monster, I’m just ahead of the curve.” —The Joker
Romeo
Now
“Can someone please explain why nobody fucking took care of this?” I threw the box onto Andrei’s desk and waited. His eyes narrowed in on the associates that were scattered around the office. “Oh, I apologize. Am I interrupting?”
“Well, we were planning world domination, but sure, go ahead, get pissed about a box.” Phoenix Nicolasi stepped out of the shadows. Hell, things must be bad if he hopped on a plane out of Chicago to get here. He was their boss and basically the only man in the Cosa Nostra who dealt in secrets.
He knew everything.
About everyone.
He had folders on every associate, every boss, every captain. It wouldn’t even shock me if he had a fucking folder on every world leader. It was his currency, so the very fact that he was there at that meeting meant he was either having a friendly visit with Andrei, or he was revealing more secrets that would get someone in that room killed.
“Ah, Phoenix.” I held out my hand, and he shook it. “Business or pleasure?”
He licked his lips and grinned, then ran a hand through his wavy brown hair. “I’m a married man. It’s always business.”
“Are you saying I’m not pleasing?” Andrei scoffed.
Phoenix just rolled his eyes. “Course not, it pleases me greatly to see you pissed like you are right now. See? Pleasure it is!”
Andrei clenched his jaw and turned his icy blue stare toward me. “What’s this?”
“This is everything we’ve been trying to protect Eden from. There were bank documents. She saw more than just what we allowed her to see.”
Andrei slammed his hands onto the desk. “The hell, Marco? You were supposed to deal with this! Burn anything that leads back to Eden! Were those not my exact words?”
The guy who stepped up was in a full black suit, looked to be around mid-twenties, and if my calculations were correct, about five seconds away from shitting his pants. “I don’t know how I missed it; we swept his computer, the rest of the files and—”
My fist flew before I could even tell my body to restrain itself.
Because it was Eden.
Because it could have put her in danger.
Because it could have broken her heart.
From the very fucking grave he rested in.
Men moved out of the way as my left hand followed my fist, grabbing onto his pristine black collar and tugging him across the floor until I was near the only wall that didn’t have books displayed.
I kicked him in the stomach, sending him into the drywall, his head knocked back with a resounding crack. I caught Marco as his body slumped forward and punched him again, this time in the nose. Blood instantly started spurting down his lips.
He stumbled next to the bookcase, trying to get his bearings, and knocked over a vase that was placed on the second shelf. It crashed to the floor.
“Hope that wasn’t a family heirloom,” I said, reaching for him again, knocking my head against his twice before his eyes rolled to the back of his head.
“Meh.” Andrei waved his hand. “It’s replaceable. Do continue.”
I shoved Marco to the ground and put my heel on his throat.
“Motherfucker, next time you won’t be so lucky.” I spat in his face, pulling my foot away, then adjusted my shirt, tucking it back into my trousers; I cracked my knuckles.
I stepped over the body. “Always a pleasure, Andrei.”
“That was him being lucky?” someone whispered under their breath.
My lips twitched.
“They say he’s both lover and fighter, sinner not saint. Take a look around, gentleman,” Andrei exclaimed. “And remember, to piss off a Sinacore is to sign your own death sentence.”
I hesitated at the door, turned, and nodded my head at Andrei, earning a respectful nod back as I made my way through the club.
A sense of peace washed over me.
The last remaining piece of evidence would be dealt with.
The men saw what would happen if they fucked up.
And my blood lust was cooled—for now.
I spent the rest of the day working, making sure Tristian’s tracks were covered. Day quickly turned night by the time I was walking through Eden’s front door. She was standing there with a black apron covering an enticing knit black dress. Leaning over the table.
I couldn’t take my eyes off her smile as she adjusted the food like a pretty picture.
It was suddenly ruined by a loud screaming at the top of Naz’s lungs that he nearly starved to death, but I still smiled at the scene.
At what should have been.
Could have been.
What I fucking gave up.
And for what?
A dead brother?
An equally dead heart?
I wondered in that moment what it would take to earn a seat in that pretty picture.
Or if it was too late altogether for a man like me, a sinner like me, to sit with the saints.
No, not saints…
Angels.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
“The Villains are all parts of me. For years I’ve been wondering what it would be like if all these negative elements were forced onto the main character’s side. I can understand a character with that kind of anger.” —Hayao Miyazaki
Eden
Naz was clapping his hands in glee, then did a little knuckle dab with me like I taught him before pulling out his seat to grab his orange juice. “Mama, do you think that Uncle—”
The door clicked shut with Romeo walking in, his jaw clenched, eyes averted for the first time in, maybe ever. He was watching the table, maybe the food? Was it because he was hungry, or was it something else?
I’d wanted to apologize for the other day when he walked in with all the blood. Was it ironic that tonight he was covered in more?
How was that even physically possible?
He leaned against the door in a way that reminded me a bit of Tristian early on. How I used to look
forward to him coming home after a long day at work. I remember thinking that it was enough. I’d been in love with Romeo, but I’d started to love Tristian in a way I didn’t love his brother; the guilt had slowly dissipated as we found out we were pregnant, and then all of a sudden, things started to shift after Naz was born.
He had changed.
I stayed the same.
I made the meals.
I waited for him to come home with that same smile on his face and was welcomed with dark circles under his eyes and secrets he refused to tell.
“Looks good.” Romeo cleared his throat and awkwardly walked into the room, both hands clenched into tight fists with stains of blood that I knew were most likely a mix of his own and someone else’s. “I’ll just go wash up.”
“Is this going to be a habit?” I asked as he walked past me.
He froze, lowering his head like he was ashamed, and whispered, “The blood. Absolutely. I’ll hurt anyone who threatens you.”
I sucked in a breath; he kept walking.
Heart pounding, I felt like I was going to fall over when Naz casually walked over to me and murmured in a loud voice, “Is Uncle Romeo hurt?”
“Y-yeah, bud.” I ruffled his head. “He must have gotten in an accident, but he’ll be okay, don’t worry.”
“Okay.” Naz shrugged and went back to the dinner table. “He better hurry, or I’m taking all the meatballs.”
With a smile, I joined him, trying to calm the tremble in my hands at his confession.
Was Romeo serious?
Was my life in danger?
Naz’s?
I sighed and took a seat, piling the spaghetti on Naz’s plate. I’d made something simple, Naz had begged to make his favorite meal for his Uncle, and I didn’t have the heart to tell him no.
After all, a five-year-old didn’t understand why it felt wrong to play perfect family at the dinner table when we were anything but that.
It was everything I’d had at the beginning.
Nothing I had at the end.
Most of the time, I’d had an empty seat across from me, a glass of wine in my hand while tears streamed down my cheeks. Nothing could stop the fear in my heart.
Now? I had hope.
What a dangerous word to rely on.
“Sorry.” Romeo was back in minutes. I’d yet to touch my own plate, but Naz was half done with his. Most of the sauce was on his face, dripping down his chin. Naturally, he chewed with his mouth open as he talked to me about his day.
“It’s okay, Uncle Romeo; I was just getting a head start because I’m so hungry. Mom says if I don’t eat, I won’t be big and strong like my dad, and I want to be big and strong like him. Hey! You’re big and strong, Uncle Romeo. Do you eat broccoli?” He made a face.
Romeo chuckled, reaching for his wine glass. “Every day, three times a day. It’s what gave me these.”
He was wearing a simple white shirt that clung to his body like the many women he’d screwed, so when he flexed, I was surprised the shirt didn’t rip down the middle and just fall at his feet.
I’m sure he was used to that.
Clothing falling at his feet.
Women.
Nuns.
Plants.
How could anyone resist him?
“Holy cow!” Naz gaped. “Uncle Romeo, you’re huuuuge!”
I choked on my sip of wine when Romeo gave me a quick look as if to say, huge everywhere, you should know.
“So if I eat my broccoli, I’ll look like that too?” Naz dug his fork into another meatball and shoved it in his mouth.
“Yup, but it only works if you do your homework and listen really well to your Mama. Otherwise, the broccoli dies on the inside and makes you mean.”
Naz’s face fell. “Mean like a bully?”
“Yeah, like that.”
“W-was Dad a bully?”
Romeo paused, wine glass nearly to his mouth. “Why would you say that?”
“Because he screamed—”
“Hey,” I interrupted. “Stop talking with your mouth full, okay? Finish your meal so you can get to bed on time; I’ve already let you stay up past your bedtime so you could have dinner with Uncle Romeo.”
“That’s because he’s my new hero!” Naz announced. “I thought about it, and Spiderman really isn’t that cool. He doesn’t carry a gun—” Dear God, save me from this child’s over shares. “—and when I get scared, I think Uncle Romeo’ll come help, so that makes him a hero, right Mom?”
When I got scared, he always helped.
I didn’t say that out loud.
I just nodded my head, muttering, “Uncle Romeo will always be there for you, Naz.”
“Us!” He thrust his fork into the air. “For us, right, Mama?”
I opened my mouth to answer, but Romeo beat me to it. His hand found mine under the table and squeezed, locking eyes with me as he said, “Always.”
The rest of dinnertime passed by pretty quickly. Naz talked about school, Romeo didn’t talk about the blood, nor about cleaning money, much to Naz’s disappointment. While I put Naz to bed, Romeo did the dishes without me having to ask him to do them. I imagined his back muscles flexing every time he wiped a plate. He didn’t like using the dishwasher for some reason.
I was beyond exhausted by the time I was done and was intrigued to find Romeo already in bed, the lights off when I walked into the master suite.
I quickly washed my face and grabbed my black satin shorts with a long-sleeve black shirt before climbing into bed. It had been a long day.
Hell, it had been a long month.
Year.
Years actually.
Freezing, I scooted closer to the bed and nearly died when I hit Romeo’s warm body.
Slowly, I inched myself away only to have him wrap an arm around me and tug me against him.
Instantly, I relaxed as his breathing deepened like it was the most natural thing in the world.
Holding me against his heart.
Tears welled in my eyes.
Was I that starved for affection?
That a simple spooning he wasn’t even aware of made me cry?
I swiped the tears under my burning eyes and tried to clear my mind. I was nearly asleep when I heard a scream.
I jolted up in bed.
Romeo already had his Glock in hand. Naz bounded into the room and jumped between us. “Monsters!”
“What?” I pulled him close.
He was shaking like a leaf. “I saw monsters in my closet.”
Romeo, clad in nothing but low-slung black sweats, got up out of the bed, gun in hand, and popped his neck. “I’ll take care of this. Do not leave this bed until I come back.”
I nodded, and he left.
Naz gasped. “Mama, he’s gonna kill the monsters.”
I held my son close, wondering if it was really a figment of his imagination or if there was real danger in our house.
Five minutes later, Romeo was back. “Found the monster…”
Naz gasped again. “You did?”
“Yup, a squirrel right outside your window, thought you looked fun and wanted to play.” He smiled at Naz and pulled him in for a hug, careful to keep the gun away.
Over Naz’s head, he murmured, “Bad dream, all clear.”
I let out the breath I didn’t realize I had been holding, mouthing “Thank you.”
Romeo put the safety back on his Glock and tucked it into the nightstand next to him with one hand. Pulling Naz against him in a sitting position, he asked him, “You want to sleep here tonight?”
“REALLY?” Naz nearly took out the room with his yell. “You’d actually let me? Dad always made me go back to my room, and sometimes… sometimes, I got scared and didn’t sleep.”
If the man wasn’t dead, I’d kill him for that one confession alone.
“Naz.” I put both hands on his shoulders. “Why didn’t you ever tell me?”
He sniffled, “I thought you might get in trouble.”
<
br /> Not him.
Me.
What else had my son seen? I’d originally thought I did such a good job protecting him, making sure he saw the hero every time I dealt with the monster.
“Hey.” Romeo fell onto his back.
Naz copied him.
Both guys with their hands behind their heads, staring up at the ceiling, shooting the breeze.
“Let’s try to get some sleep. No matter what, you can always stay here if you need to. Sometimes it’s nice to have people chase the bad away.”
“Thanks, Uncle Romeo.” Naz yawned.
Then Romeo yawned.
Both of them smiled at each other, and I nearly looked away when the small dimple in Naz’s cheek made itself known.
Romeo frowned a bit. “Hey, I never noticed that before,” He reached out and touched Naz’s face, then pointed at his. “Family trait, I suppose.”
“Cool, Uncle Romeo! I have one part of you and one part of my dad now. He said I got his hair and brains!”
“That you did.” He laughed. “Now, let’s sleep.”
I was the last to lie down.
The last to turn on my side and pull the covers up.
The last to probably even close my eyes as the past came back to haunt my future.
When it came to Romeo Sinacore, it always would, wouldn’t it?
We weren’t meant to be… then why was he sleeping in my bed like we were one big family?
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
“I’m a villain, and villains don’t get happy endings.” —Mr. Gold
Eden
Then: One year later
“What the fuck?” Tristian roared. “Where’s dinner?”
“I’ve been checking out schools all day for Naz, Tristian. Remember? I reminded you last night.”
There was no recollection in his annoyed glare, which was directed right at me.
“Of course, you don’t remember. You were drunk again,” I rasped under my breath, walking toward the kitchen. “I’ll make something quick for you.”
“Don’t bother,” he demanded in a rough, stern voice, a voice that was almost always accompanied by the smell of whiskey on his breath. It was starting to trigger me in the worst of ways, all because it was his drink of choice, all because he turned to it instead of me when he was frustrated. Whiskey held his secrets…
