His Wife: Chapter 23
His Wife: A Dark Mafia Romance (Dark Sovereign Book 2)
âWhat is going on?â Leandraâs knuckles turn white as she clutches the bar on the passenger side door. I take a sharp turn, the tires of the Audi skidding across the asphalt, screaming as I take the corner. âYouâre scaring me, Alexius.â
âI just need to get you home. Make sure youâre safe.â
âSafe from what?â
I ram the brakes and take another turn, then floor the gas pedal, speeding down the streets, weaving in and out of traffic. âHeâs taken Mirabella.â
âWho? Whoâs taken her?â
âThis fucking psychopath.â
âWhat psychopath? Alexius, youâre not making any sense.â
âNone of this makes fucking sense!â I slam my hand against the steering wheel, anger liquifying in my veins, poisoning me to want to destroy fucking everything in my path. âI donât know who he is, how heâs managed to do everything heâs done.â
âWhat are you talking about?â She grabs my arm, but I jerk free from her grasp.
âI was sure it was you when I read his letter.â
âWhat letter? Alexius, slow down. Youâre scaring me.â
âI need to get you home. Make sure youâre safe.â
âDriving like this wonât get me or you home safely. Please slow down.â
I ignore her plea, fueled by the adrenaline flooding my system and the need to get Leandra to safety. Thereâs no time to explain, no time to slow down. Mira is gone, and we have no fucking idea where even to start looking.
âWhat did Mira say, exactly?â I ask without looking at Leandra.
âI donâtâ¦I canâtâ¦â
âLeandra, think!â Jesus fucking Christ, my head is spinning, and I canât stop it. Itâs so loud, the angry rush of blood thumping in my ears. Everything is a mess, and Iâm trying to figure a way out of it with little to zero clues. Nothing this fucker wrote in that letter makes sense.
âMira, what did she say?â I quickly glance at Leandra before focusing my attention back on the road, the street lights blurred with the heavy rain coming down as if the Heavens had been torn open. âWhere did she go to? Why werenât you together?â
âWe were at the doctorâs office, and I threw up, so Mira told me sheâd go buy me some gum and that sheâd wait for me in theââ
âWait for you where?â My voice ricochets in the tiny space. My anger isnât helping the situation, but weâre racing against time. âWait for you where, Leandra?â I try to lower my tone this time.
âThe foyer. She told me sheâd wait for me in the foyer.â Thereâs panic in her voice. Sheâs nervous and breathing erratically. With a glance, I notice her shaking, tears running down her face. Fuck.
âWait.â I narrow my eyes, my gaze flicking between her and the road. âWhy were you at the doctorâs office? Are you sick?â
âNo.â She shakes her head and wipes her nose with the back of her hand. âIâm fine.â
âThen why were you throwing up? Whatâs going on?â
âNothing. Nothing is goingââ
âWhat are you not telling me?â I take the last turn, and weâre finally on the long-ass road that leads straight to the estate.
âItâs nothing, okay? Letâs just find Mira. Then we can talk.â
âLeandra!â I snap, and she visibly jolts in her seat. âWhat the fuck is going on? What are you not telling me?â
âIâm pregnant!â she yells, and every thought in my head screeches to a fucking halt.
âYouâre pregnant?â
âYes, Alexius. Yes.â Her brows curve, and tears drip from her lashes. âIâm pregnant. Thatâs why Mira took me to the doctor, to make one-hundred-percent certain before I tell you.â She turns in her seat to face me, her cheeks flushed and lips curled as she whimpers. âIâm so sorry, Alexius. I didnât mean for this to happen. Iâve taken my birth control every goddamn day. You know that. And Iâ¦I donât know how this happened. Iâm so sorry.â
I stomp on the brakes, the stench of burnt rubber instantly filling the air. The sudden silence between us is heavy enough to make me hold my breath, and the only sound is the pitter-patter of raindrops on the windshield, my secret betrayal ringing in the back of my head as my mind replays the words she just said.
A tear slips onto her cheek, and itâs like a goddamn slap in the face, jerking me out of the panicked haze Iâve been in ever since I read that goddamn letter, going fucking crazy trying to find Leandra while I had the image Melanieâs mutilated body fresh in my head.
I reach out and catch the tear as it laps from her cheek, the skin of my finger absorbing the moisture. My heart breaks a little witnessing the guilt she has no right feeling. âGet out of the car.â
Her dark brows arch in confusion. âWhat?â
âGet out of the car,â I order and open my door, slipping out into the rain. My expensive suit is being ruined one raindrop at a time, but I donât give a flying fuck because there is only one thing that matters to meâone thing I care about, and thatâs her. My wife. The woman who made me realize I do have a heart capable of loving, a heart that bleeds only for her.
Rain splashes around my feet as I rush around the front of the car, reaching her before she even manages to stand straight.
I cup her face as I step up close. Her beautiful face is a stunning sight as rain rivulets mix with her tears. âYou listen to me, and listen good. You donât apologize for this,â I say, brushing my thumb across her wet lips. âI told you right at the beginning, a Del Rossa never apologizes. Jesus, Leandra, especially not for this.â I lower a hand to her belly, still keeping her gaze captive with mine as I press my lips together to get rid of the rain that lingers there. âYou did nothing wrong. Why, in the name of everything holy, would you feel you need to apologize for being pregnant?â
âI donât know,â she whimpers, her voice shaking, her expression nothing but delicate lines of uncertainty. âI wasnât sureâ¦I didnât know how youâd react. And I didnât want you to thinkââ
âThink what? That you being pregnant is the best news Iâve gotten in a really long time?â
âI didnât want you toââ
I crash my mouth to hers in a fiery kiss, my tongue pushing past the barrier of her wet lips. She tastes of rain and mint and the sweetest fucking honey that soothes my soul in ways I never knew possible. Her lips are dynamite and silk all at once, and I pour everything I have into that one damn kiss because I have no words. I donât know how to say what Iâm feeling, so I kiss her, hoping it will tell her exactly what it is I need her to know.
That I love her.
That sheâs my world.
That sheâs not just the air I breathe, but the life that courses through my veins.
Sheâs my everything and all the tiny little pieces in between.
A groan echoes from my throat as I deepen the kiss. I hate that sheâs crying, but I relish the taste of her tears. Her uncertainty in my devotion to her is venom in my veins, but I savor her vulnerability because it proves that I havenât completely ruined her innocence. That I havenât corrupted her gentle soul, and I now know itâs the one thing I need to protect. To cherish.
I reluctantly pull away with a moan, leaning my forehead against hers. âYou make me happy,â I whisper, rain lapping down the sides of our faces. âHappier than a man like me deserves.â
âI wasnât sure how youâdââ
I kiss her again, drowning her words with a hard kiss before inching back. âErase those doubts, Leandra. They have no merit, no right to occupy your thoughts when it comes to me. Never doubt my feelings for you. Ever.â
She nods, sucking her bottom lip into her mouth, shivering, and I brush away the wet hair clinging to her cheeks. âIâm going to take you home, and I need you to go to my parentsâ room. Make sure you lock yourself and my mother in. Understand?â
Light, earth-brown irises plead under stormy skies. âAlexius, please tell me what is going on.â
âI will. I promise. But right now, thereâs no time. We have to find Mirabella.â
âIs she in danger? Does this have to do with the murder at Myth?â
I balk. âHow do you know about the murder?â
âMira told me she overheard your brothers talk about it, but we werenât sure. Is Mira in danger, Alexius?â
âGet in the car.â I open her door and scan the area around us, placing a hand on the small of her back as I urge her to get in. The rain is coming down strong, drops exploding in each direction as I slam the car door and run to get in behind the wheel. âRemember,â I say when I rev the engine. âWhen we get to the estate, you go to my parentsâ room. Lock the door.â
âI wish youâll tell me whatâs going on.â
âI will. I promise. We just need to find Mira first.â
The iron gates open as we drive up. Itâs raining so hard the wipers struggle to keep up, water splashing from the carâs side fenders as I speed down the driveway. âIn my dadâs closet, youâll find some crates with old newspaper articles. Behind it is a bottle of whiskey with a dark brown wooden case next to it.â I glance at her. âThereâs a gun inside. I need you to take it out and keep it, just in case.â
Her eyes widen, fear overshadowing their amber hues. She seems frozen, not even fucking blinking.
âLeandra!â I snap, stopping the car in front of the house. âDid you hear me? The gun. Itâs in my fatherâsâ¦â A wrecking ball slams into my gut, realization slicing through my mind with a sharp-edged blade.
It is time to gather at our Fatherâs house.
Iâve gone to the house of our Father to cut the member from your lives. But do not dwell; she will repent and be forgiven.
The Lord will deliver you all from evil, and I will be His Instrument. I am, after allâ¦your brother.â
âJesus Christ.â I hold my breath, my heartbeat echoing between my ears as the words of those letters slowly start to create a picture. âHe said our fatherâs house.â
âWhat? Who?â Leandra touches my hand. âWhat are you talking about.â
âHe wasnât talking about God. He was talking about our father. Literally, our father. Our fatherâs house.â I climb out of the car and stare up at the two-story mansion. âMy fatherâs house. I am your brother,â I mumble, the words repeating over and over in my head, but it doesnât make sense. We all assumed he meant it in a religious sense, not actual brother. But what ifâ¦
Memories of the night my father asked me to arrange their anniversary party play out in my head. I remember how conflicted he was, how he seemed to wallow in the past, saying that his time for making things right had passed. He was sad. Almost hopeless with a regret I didnât understand.
âWhen youâre a dying man like I am, you start to think of all the things you would have done differently. The things you wish you could go back and change.â
âAll the money in the world canât cure me or prolong my life. And power? What is power when death can erase you with a mere snap of its fingers? Thereâs only one thing that matters, Alexius, and I regret that itâs taken me my whole life to realizeâ¦and thatâs family. Loved ones.â
âThere is one decision I regret the most nowâ¦now that my life is coming to an end. One wrong decision that pains me more than any amount of morphine or medicine can numb.â
âAlexius.â Leandraâs touch jolts me out of my own head, the roar of engines slicing through the noise of rain pissing down onto the Earth. Nicoli and Maximo both leap from their vehicles, but Iâm too distracted by the memories, as if my brainâs sorting through all the puzzle pieces, trying to make it all fit.
âMicah. Iâve always wanted a son with the name Micah.â
Instantly the memories all slide together. âNicoli!â I yell as my brother rushes up the stairs to the front door. âItâs Micah.â
Nicoli stops and turns to face me. âYeah. What about it?â
âDonât you remember? The night Mom and Dad returned from their trip, the night of the party, Dad said heâs always wanted a son named Micah. That it would make a good name for an heir.â
Nicoli frowns. âThat can be a coincidence. Doesnât mean itâs tied to this.â
âI know. But right now, itâs the only fucking breadcrumbs we have. Go find Mom, make sure sheâs safe.â I turn to Maximo. âWe need to search the house. Every room, every corner, every goddamn fucking crack in the wall. Now.â
âThere is no way heâd be able to get past security. Security is all over. It might as well be the fucking Whitehouse.â
âI donât care. Just do it.â
Maximo and Nicoli rush into the house, and I grab Leandraâs hand. âChange of plans.â
âWhat?â
âIâm not taking you in there. Not if thereâs a chance he could be in the house.â
âWhat about Mira? And whereâs Caelian? Isaia?â
âIsaia is with Caelian. Theyâre safe. Right now, I have to get you safe.â
âAnd Mira? We have to find her, Alexius. If sheâs in danger, we have to do something.â
âAnd we will.â I grip her arms. âI promise Iâll find her, but first, I need to take you to a safe place. Please. Just get back in the car. I know where to take you, where youâll be safe.â
âNo.â She shakes her head. âThis is dangerous. Iâm not leaving you.â
âLeandra, get in the motherfucking car!â I yank her arm and force her into the car. Thereâs no time to debate, no time to stand around and argue. If this psychopath has Mirabella, every damn second counts if we want half a chance at finding her alive.
I rev the engine, images of Melanieâs corpse bombarding my mind, praying to God we donât find Mirabella like that.
I put the car in reverse, swerve to the side, and speed back down the driveway, my heart beating like fucking crazy with a fresh surge of adrenaline every goddamn five seconds.
âWhere are you taking me?â
âThe mausoleum. Itâs the safest place for you right now.â
âYouâre taking me to the family graveyard?â
âItâs safe. That place is a fucking fortress. No one will get in there.â
âOkay, but why are you driving off the estate?â
âItâs quicker around the outside and to go through the back gates. I canât exactly speed down a cobbled path now, can I?â
The faint sound of Leandra sniffing filters through the rush between my ears, and I glance at her staring worriedly out the window before taking her hand, squeezing it tight. âIâll keep you and the baby safe. I promise.â
âBabies,â she whispers so softly, itâs almost inaudible.
âWhat did you say?â
Her gaze meets mine, swirls of amber glistening. âBabies. Twins.â
My breath hitches as I snap my gaze to her. âTwins?â
âThe doctor seems toâ¦â She stills, distracted, narrowing her eyes as she looks straight ahead. âShould the back gates be open?â
âDefinitely not.â I park the car by the open gates, warning prickling the back of my skull. âStay in the car.â
âAlexius.â
âStay,â I order. âCall Maximo. Tell him to get his ass here now.â
I get out of the car, every bone in my body crawling with caution with each slow step I take. Blood rushes through my chest when I see the open door past the four gray columns of the mausoleum. Everything about this is wrong. The open gates. The open door. Heâs here. I can feel it in the heavy air that thickens the closer I get.
Thunder claps, and thereâs an angered echo of rumbling as rain pelts against my face like needles. Shielding my eyes with my hand, I look up, rain coming down in sheets, the wind whisking it into a frenzied storm. Iâm drenched when I reach the mausoleum, my clothes sticking to my skin and hair clinging to my face.
I reach for my gun at my side, alert, and my every step is slow and calculated as I enter through the door. My heart stops when I see her, life draining from my chest.
âMirabella.â