Chapter 19: Married With Malice: Chapter 18

Back in New York there’s some trouble.

Nothing major, but my phone keeps blowing up with messages from Richie and from Monte.

It’s a drag to keep putting my head back in the dark place that conducts Richie’s dirty work but for now I’ve talked Richie out of going scorched earth on some local politicians who have been slow to fulfill promises to him and to Albie. A political hit comes with way too much attention.

As for the Castelli brothers, they’ve been tussling with some Bronx bookies guilty of nudging past their territory. I gave Monte the green light to do whatever needed to be done.

My plan is to get all the mafia bullshit out of the way and devote my time to my wife. I’m encouraged by Annalisa’s good mood. All day she’s been sweet and eager to get along. As I watched her become enthralled with Sadie and Cale and their ranch, I thought my insides would liquefy from the intense ache to pull her close and never let her go.

My brother wanted us to stay. Sadie wanted us to stay. And it seemed as if Anni wouldn’t have minded.

But seeing my brother at peace in the habitat where he belongs reminded me how much I don’t belong there. Cale has successfully escaped from the codes and rituals and sick, murderous secrets of our kingdom.

Meanwhile, I’ve become the realm’s dark, malevolent prince.

Facing my brother and knowing he understands exactly what I’ve turned into is like catching an unwanted glimpse in the mirror in the aftermath of committing a bender of sins.

“Will you be dining alone?” the hostess asks with a bland smile.

“My wife will be joining me,” I reply, looking over my shoulder in case she’s there. Anni texted from the room ten minutes ago to say she was on her way but there’s no sign of her yet.

The hostess plucks two menus out of a pile and leads me to a table in the center of the room. “Will this do?”

“Fine.” I take a seat and accept a menu.

The lighting in here is romantically muted and the tables are all covered with traditional white linen tablecloths. In the middle of each table a single snipped rose floats in a water-filled glass tube. Flameless candles are parked on either side of the glass vase. A wise idea, considering our last experience with candles on a table.

A fast-moving waiter wearing a crisp white shirt delivers a basket of crusty bread rolls with a bowl of whipped butter. Anni isn’t a big drinker but she’ll indulge in a glass of wine if it’s on the table so I tell the guy to bring a bottle of their most expensive pinot grigio.

The sky has just finished darkening and the dinner hour should be in full swing but traffic in the dining room is sparse. One couple scrolls through their phones without speaking as they sporadically fork bites of food. A pair of elderly women talk quietly over a shared giant salad. The only lively action is happening at the long table occupied by the family we ran into when we arrived.

Jokes fly freely at that table. Laughter breaks out at least once a minute. They’re an interesting group and it’s tough to avoid listening in. A litany of other names are referenced in conversation, indicating this gang is part of a much larger tribe.

The wine arrives and I knock back a full glass of the shit without really tasting it. My fingers drum on the table and my eyes flicker with impatience to the front of the room.

When Annalisa finally walks in, my breath staggers to a halt.

She’s a vision in the sensual dress she wore to our first dinner together in Key West. A stylish black shawl is draped over her shoulders. Her hair is down, cascading in long waves.

This woman is pure art and I’m amazed.

Her smile comes with a touch of shyness as she reaches the table and sits. I should have picked my jaw up off the floor for long enough to rise and kiss her.

“You’re beautiful, Annalisa,” I say.

A warm glow spreads to her cheeks as she unfolds her napkin. She looks down, her long eyelashes kissing her cheeks. A pleased smile pulls at her mouth.

I can’t escape the idea that she seems surprised by the praise. Despite all our drama, she must know that I think she’s absolutely gorgeous.

Don’t I tell her that enough?

She scans the menu. “What are you having?”

“Just order two of whatever you pick.”

I’m not that hungry. The adrenaline of seeing Cale and then fielding a bunch of tense phone conversations about my uncle’s unseemly business has left me too keyed up to enjoy food.

Anni keeps it simple and orders two filet mignons.

Nervous silence presides over our table in stark contrast to the three brothers and their wives who are having a blast and carrying on multiple conversations at once.

Anni toys with a segment of long hair and looks over at the group every time their volume rises. This is really the first time since the Great Christmas Debacle that we’ve sat down alone together. The term ‘walking on eggshells’ was invented for situations like this.

Now I’m kicking myself for failing to bring the jewelry box with her bracelet. It’s still in my bag, which is all the way up in the room. A missed opportunity. Giving her a gift would have been a good icebreaker.

Anni rearranges her shawl to give her bare shoulders more coverage. She clears her throat and fidgets in her chair before raising her eyes to meet mine. “Cale and Sadie look really happy together.”

“Yeah, they’re wild about each other. A case of true love if ever there was one.”

The change in her face is subtle. Her gaze shifts and she nibbles at her lower lip. I get the feeling I might have said something wrong.

More laughter erupts at the party table. Our meals arrive, putting a temporary halt to awkward conversation.

I manage to choke down a few bites in between admiring my wife, who eats with dainty grace. Once she looks up and is startled to catch me watching her. I move my gaze in a different direction.

Anni picks up her wine glass and takes a sip. “I was reading about the spa here. Their prickly pear and aloe treatments are world famous.”

“Then you should check it out.” I toss my napkin on top of my unfinished meal. “Treat yourself.”

She doesn’t respond and her shoulders dip with a soft sigh. I run her words back through my mind, wondering what I missed.

Did she stress the word ‘aloe’? It seems like she might have.

“You need some aloe. It’ll take the sting out of the sunburn. I’ve got some in my bag…”

That golden day in Key West feels like it happened a decade ago. It’s possible Anni was slipping in a reference to our first white-hot sex episode in front of the mirror but this is probably a stretch.

My phone has been switched to silent mode and it vibrates in my pocket. I grind my teeth together with irritation. This is the third time in the last ten minutes.

What does it take to get one fucking night of peace with my wife?

Meanwhile, there’s some commotion at the loud table. A guitar has been produced from somewhere and it’s being pushed on the big man who was referred to as ‘Creed the Ogre’.

Chase, the jokester who opened the door for us earlier, claps his hands together with encouragement. “Come on, you know you want to show off.”

Creed scowls at his brother and stays put.

The third brother, the one decorated in inked artwork, is more diplomatic. “How about just one song?” he says. “It’s been a while since I heard you perform.”

Creed’s expression turns slightly less irritable but he’s still unconvinced. Then a pretty dark-haired woman rises from her chair and cozies up to him. She slides into his lap, slings her arms around his neck and murmurs in his ear.

That’s all it takes to transform him. Creed smiles, runs his thick knuckles over her cheek and briefly meets her lips in a tender kiss. She hands him the guitar and persuades him to move his chair to a low platform beside an unoccupied grand piano.

A member of the staff drags a microphone out and adjusts the stem while Creed tunes the guitar with his head bent in concentration. When he’s satisfied, he tests out the microphone.

“Good evening, folks. Please excuse the interruption. I’ll just be sharing one quick song and then I’ll let you get back to your meal.”

He strums a few notes and then begins singing in a deep, mesmerizing voice. The song is slow and the lyrics familiar but it takes me an entire verse before I can place it. I’ve heard covers of Forever Young before but Creed’s version ranks at the top. Every note is thick with emotion and every word heavy with meaning.

Anni has tilted her chair toward the stage and watches the scene with intense interest. Everyone in the room is fixated on the man singing. Someone ought to get this guy a record contract.

Though I’m no music expert, I feel his voice in my bones. He sings in feelings; the love and the longing. The hope that the best of life will last while passionately fearing it will end at any minute.

The three couples are all different. Chase pulls his wife to her feet and begins dancing her around ballroom-style. She laughs, clearly relishing his clownish behavior. Creed’s wife parks a chair in front of her husband and blows him a kiss.

The brother whose name I haven’t heard yet sways lightly to the music with an attractive brunette in his arms. Her eyes are closed and her cheek is pressed to his broad chest. He leans his chin on top of her head and closes his eyes, the picture of a man deeply in love.

A flash of motion draws my attention at the same second my phone blows up again. Fucking annoying but I should see what’s up just in case it’s a dire emergency. As I yank my phone out of my pocket, I see Anni pull back her hand with the speed of an electric shock.

She’d been reaching across the table. It I didn’t know better, I’d say she was reaching for my hand but this can’t be the case. It’s just not something she would do. She was probably reaching for one of the rolls in the basket.

Monte’s name flashes across the phone screen. With all the ongoing havoc I should give him a minute.

“I’ll be right back,” I say to Anni.

She keeps staring at the stage, giving no sign that she even heard me.

“What is it?” I say into the phone, not bothering to scrape the annoyance from my tone as I rapidly walk out of the dining room.

Creed’s voice follows me into the corridor and I duck into an empty conference room, shutting the door at my back.

“Sorry to bother you,” Monte says and then gives me a quick, heavily coded rundown of the last few hours.

“Clean it up as best you can,” I say, aware that I ought to feel sick over the fact that we’re talking about dead men but unable to summon any emotion about this. “If it’s too messy, call Franco. I’ve already given him a heads up to offer any help you need. And Monte, will you do me a favor?”

“Sure.”

“I’m trying to give my wife my full attention. Try to make do with what you’ve got and we’ll deal with any complaints when I’m back.”

“Got it. Try not to get lost in a snow drift, okay?”

“Doing my best.” I disconnect the call and just sit alone in the dark for a moment.

A flood of enthusiastic applause breaks out. Creed must have wrapped up his song. Anni probably thinks I’m a dick for running out on her. The other men in that room wouldn’t have left their wives alone to go chat about murder in a fucking conference room.

Raking a hand through my hair, too many nights of shitty sleep are starting to catch up with me.

Tonight will be different.

With new determination, I switch my phone off and shove away from the table. If anyone has any earth shattering business they’ll need to figure it out themselves. I’m off the clock.

And I should do something nice for Anni, something unexpected. When we were in Key West, I bribed the kitchen to make her favorite dessert. She was thrilled. I don’t remember seeing that expression on her face since that night.

Rather than return directly to the dining room, I take a circuitous route in search of the kitchen and end up bumping into our waiter as he’s rolling silverware into napkins. He listens when I explain what I want and I tell him there will be a big tip for the dessert chef. He promises he’ll take care of it immediately.

Anni isn’t at the table. Her half eaten steak is still here. She must have gone to the restroom.

The party table is still going strong. Chase creeps up behind Creed’s chair and grabs his brother in a playful headlock. He notices that I’m watching and grins. “My brother’s got some set of pipes, huh?”

Creed shakes him off but snorts good-naturedly. “Get back to your own seat, junior.”

I’m expecting Anni to return any minute. No matter how hard I stare in the direction of the restrooms, she hasn’t appeared. I check my watch and see that ten minutes have clicked by.

Our smiling waiter proudly delivers the panna cotta and it’s been artfully adorned with fresh fruit, just like I requested. I motion that he ought to set it down next to Anni’s plate. Then I continue to watch for my wife to appear.

Another five minutes go by.

Now I’m starting to wonder.

She didn’t each much of her dinner. Maybe she’s feeling sick or jetlagged.

After another five minutes have passed, I’m officially worried.

The restrooms are located in a discreet corner alcove. The blonde woman who was dancing with Chase comes tumbling out of the ladies’ room.

“Excuse me,” I say. “My wife has been in there a while and I just want to make sure she’s okay.”

The woman’s eyebrows shoot up. “There’s no one else in there but I saw your wife leave about twenty minutes ago.”

“Leave? As in she left the restaurant?”

The woman gives me a skeptical look. “I assume so. She was heading for the exit.”

“Thanks.”

Fuck. I shouldn’t have turned my phone off. The woman moves on while I revive my phone, expecting to see a message from Anni. There’s none so I tap out a quick ‘Where are you?’ text and head back to the table.

By now my worry has blossomed. When she doesn’t answer right away I hastily pay for the meal, making good on my promise to tip generously, and hustle back to our suite.

When I open the door, the sitting room is empty. A tingle of uneasiness trails up my spine. Instinctively, my hand reaches for my holstered gun.

“Anni?” I call, looking around wildly.

“In here,” she answers from the bedroom.

Exhaling with relief, I unload my keys, gun and phone on a nearby table before heading into the bedroom.

Anni stands awkwardly by the foot of the bed. She’s changed out of her dress and wears a pair of flannel pajamas. Her face has been scrubbed so clean that her cheeks are red.

A sense that something bad has happened intensifies when she won’t look me in the eye. She crosses her arms, practically hugging herself.

“What’s going on?” I take a step in her direction but she backs up. “Are you sick?”

“No,” she says but turns her head so that a curtain of hair obscures her face. “I just couldn’t stay there alone.”

“I’m sorry. I wasn’t gone for long. And then I thought you were in the restroom so I waited for a while.”

She shakes her head. “I left right after you did. Now I just want to go to sleep.”

This isn’t turning out how I’d hoped. We shouldn’t end our first night here on a sour note.

“I guess it’s been a long day,” I say.

She nods and tucks her hair behind her ears before turning and fixing me with an unreadable look. “Just so you know, I wouldn’t have objected if you had wanted to stay.”

“Stay where? At the restaurant?”

She rolls her eyes. “At the ranch. They really wanted us to stay.”

“You’re right. They wanted us to stay.”

Anni considers this and nods. “But it’s better we didn’t, right?”

“What do you mean?”

“It would be very difficult to be around them.”

“Now I’m confused. You just said you wouldn’t have minded staying. And you seemed to like Sadie and Cale.”

“Of course I like Sadie and Cale. They’re wonderful. But seeing them together today just reminds me that-” She abruptly cuts herself off and winces, leaving me with no clue what she’s trying to say.

“Reminds you of what?”

She blinks rapidly. She chews her lip.

“We’re not like them, Luca. We don’t have what they have. You will NEVER EVER look at me the way Cale looks at Sadie. The same way Big Man Bowie looks at Daisy. The way those three brothers we met today look at their wives. Like they cannot imagine life without their other half. That will never be us, no matter what I wish for.”

The words are such a shattering shock that the air punches right out of my lungs. The room starts to look surreal and I’m not sure the floor can hold me up.

Annie grimaces and turns away again, her arms crossed even more tightly, her head down.

She’s in pain.

I’m the one who has caused her this pain.

“Anni,” I rasp out. “Let’s talk about this.”

“No.” She stays closed off, her posture rigid. “Believe me, I know how pathetic I sound. And I know that you never promised me love. That wasn’t part of any deal we made. You’re just taking one for the team, like you said. Falling for you was unintentional. And it’s my own problem.”

Coming up with words to suit any situation has always come easy to me. I can shift gears and be different things to different people. I’ve always considered this quality to be a strength.

For the first time, I realize it’s nothing of the kind. The person who means the most to me doesn’t even know who I am. She doesn’t know what to believe. The blame for this is all mine.

Taking one for the team?

That sounds vaguely familiar. It’s something I’ve said before, an offhand conversational remark. But not about her. Never about her.

“Annalisa.” I try to go to her, to wrap my arms around her. If I hold her, I’ll be able to fix this, to think of the right words.

“Stop.” She shoves me off and sniffs. “Just leave me alone right now. I mean it, Luca.”

She sniffs again and with a fresh wave of horror, I realize she’s crying. My beautiful, headstrong, captivating wife, who could probably face down a Roman legion and not flinch, is crying.

All because I’ve withheld from her the love she so badly wanted from me.

And I didn’t understand.

In the beginning, I thought I was giving her the space she needed, letting her draw closer in her own time. Then came a world of complications and I lost track of what matters.

A litany of mistakes screams through my head and regret presses on my chest with the weight of an anvil.

From the beginning, I was wrong.

SO. FUCKING. WRONG!!!

On our honeymoon I set out immediately to seduce her. Then I felt arrogantly victorious when I succeeded. What I should have done is beg for the chance to win her trust.

I’ve never earned anything she’s given me. Not a fucking thing.

“Please leave me alone right now,” she says, barely able to speak as her shoulders shudder.

She has no idea how I feel. I’ve never told her.

“Please, Luca,” she begs with another sob. “It’s the kindest thing you can do.”

There’s no reason for her to trust a single word I say. None.

As I rake through my mind in a desperate search to find a way to repair all the damage, Anni crumples with another loud sob and runs into the bathroom to get away. There’s an audible click as the lock is flipped.

I’ve already hurt her far too much. She doesn’t want to cry in front of me. This is her only request and I need to honor it. If I speak now, I risk making the situation even worse.

The blood roars in my head as I stagger back into the sitting room. The sight of my gun lying on the table induces sick loathing. I seize the thing, unload the bullets and shove it into a drawer for now. The weight of it on my hip has become a millstone dragging me into the murky depths of hell.

I’m not even paying attention to where I’m going and I don’t know how long I’ve wandered by the time I land in the lobby. The adjoining lounge is empty and the fireplace crackles with no one in the room to enjoy it. The man behind the check-in desk is preoccupied as I drift through the scene like a ghost.

Our table at the restaurant has already been cleared. I wouldn’t want to sit there anyway. I drop down on a stool at the bar and order the house specialty beer.

I’m the only one occupying a seat at the long row of barstools and a full glass of richly colored brew is placed under my nose in no time. Patting my pocket, I realize I left my phone up in the room.

I’m only faintly aware that behind me, other people continue to have a normal evening. With my mind in turmoil, their voices sound muffled and dim. Swallowing the full glass of beer within two minutes does nothing for my mood so I bark out an order for another.

When I hear the stool beside me creak under some new weight, I recoil on instinct.

The man with all the creative ink, the third member of the brotherhood, tips his hand with an amused wave. His blue eyes are bright with good humor. There are plenty of other empty seats for him to choose from and I don’t know why he decided on the one beside mine. I’d rather not collect any more bad karma by being unfriendly so I offer him a faint nod.

He takes this as an opening. “We haven’t officially met.” He extends a hand. Even his wrist is covered with ink. “Cord Gentry.”

“Luca Connelly.” His handshake is firm and he peers into my face like he’s trying to decipher what kind of man I am. All I can do is hope he doesn’t figure out the truth.

The rest of his family is still at their table. Chase is trying to steal a spoonful of Creed’s dessert and gets swatted away.

Cord notices with a snort. “Brothers,” he says. “Some things never change. Do you have any of your own?”

“One brother.”

“Are you close?”

“We used to be.” That’s a difficult answer to cough up. Mostly because it’s accurate.

Cale and I were always very close. That’s no longer the case.

Cord assesses the unspoken portion of that statement. “You keep working on it. Like the song says, life is a short trip.”

“Yup,” I say.

I hope I don’t come off as rude. I don’t mind talking to him. He’s probably about the same age my dad would be, if he’d lived. I’ll bet Cord has kids of his own. There’s an air of patient dad energy about him.

I point to his decorated forearm. “My brother would be a huge fan of your ink. He’s got quite a bit of his own.”

“All my own designs,” he says without a trace of conceit. “You got any to brag about?”

“Not yet.”

He looks to the table where his family sits. The woman he was dancing with earlier spots him at the bar and smiles.

“Your wife?” I ask.

“My everything,” he replies, reluctant to drag his eyes from her. He finally glances my way with a wry grin. “Want to hear something funny?”

“Sure.”

“Saylor and I grew up together. I gave her plenty of causes to hate me. I don’t know how I earned a chance at redemption but she gave me one. You see, when the right girl becomes the center of your universe, fate has a way of falling into place. She deserves all the credit for the man I am now.”

I don’t resent his unsolicited story at all. I get the impression he’s a man who weighs his words with care. He sees and hears things that would pass right by ordinary people. If he thinks you’re worth his attention, then there’s a reason.

Cord’s family has begun to rise from their chairs. He gives his wife a signal that he’s on his way and briefly claps a friendly hand on my shoulder.

“You have a good night, Luca.”

“You too, Cord.”

As the Gentry family departs, the setting becomes instantly forlorn. I finish my beer without tasting it and decide against ordering another one. The bartender gives me a few curious glances, probably wondering why I’m staring grimly off into space as I revisit all my mistakes.

With a sharp pang, I think of the day I went home early with a plan to take Anni on a romantic overnight date in the city. For a moment, there was real happiness on her face. Then I crushed her by killing our plans as quickly as I’d made them.

How many times has she sat home alone in that cold, empty house, waiting for me to show her just a fraction of the tenderness she craved?

The girl I’ve known since childhood became the woman who owns my heart and yet there’s so much I’ve missed. Today was the first time I’d ever heard how her father forced her to quit skating. Skating was everything to Anni. How that must have broken her heart.

And since we’ve been married I’ve been breaking her heart in a different way. I’ll never forgive myself for having no clue.

In order to escape the bartender’s scrutiny, I settle the tab and take a walk outside. The weather is far from ideal for a stroll. Though thousands of stars wink above, the cold is bone chilling. It doesn’t take long for my lungs to hurt and my fingers to go numb.

There’s nothing to be gained from a case of frostbite so I return to the warmth of the main building and slowly make my way to our suite.

All is quiet as I creak open the door. The bedroom itself is dark. Anni is curled up on her side in the huge bed and doesn’t stir when I softly murmur her name.

She hasn’t moved an inch by the time I’m out of the shower. Her breathing is deep and even. My chest aches with unspeakable tenderness as I tuck the blankets around her soft body.

After prowling around the place in silence, I find a folded tower of blankets in the closet and wearily set up camp on the sofa.

She begged to be alone tonight. I have no right to sleep beside her.