: Chapter 13

The dress I’d picked for the wedding of the year—between my cousin Amo and the daughter of the Camorra Capo, Greta—was looser than I’d liked. It was a beautiful dark red dress with a cowl neck, flared skirt, and shimmery red flowers on the skirt. The waist was slim, but it was still too loose for me. I had bought the dress only four weeks ago but I must have lost more weight than I thought in the meantime.

A knock sounded.

“You can come in.”

The door opened, and Maximus poked his head in. He wore nice light gray chinos and a white dress shirt. He wasn’t the suit type, though I actually liked how he looked in it. His eyes slid along my body. “You look beautiful.”

“Thank you.”

His eyes drifted from my protruding collarbones to my sharp elbows and thin hands. I shifted. I knew my weight loss was obvious. Mom had already asked me about it. The wedding guests today would notice too. I hated to draw attention to myself. If this wasn’t such an important social event, I would have found an excuse not to go. “I wished I’d picked a dress with more coverage.”

Maximus immediately tore his gaze from me. “We need to go.” The tension in his voice was unexpected. I grabbed my small dark-red purse and followed him out of the apartment. He didn’t say anything on the way to church, and neither did I. I’d often felt exhausted in the past few weeks, too exhausted to make an effort with Maximus. I knew my lack of nutrients was the reason behind it too.

When we arrived at church, Maximus put on his jacket. As Amo’s Made Man, he was expected to wear it. Of course, that also meant I had to sit in the front row. My family, even if closely related to Amo, sat in the second row since the first row was already full. I smiled briefly at Marcella, trying not to look at her huge belly. She was due soon, and the sight of her pregnancy felt like a stab every time. I was happy for her—I truly was—but the pain I felt whenever I saw someone pregnant or with a baby was still intense. I’d avoided my cousin because of it, and I was sure she knew. She gave me a kind smile as I walked past her to sit beside Valerio, who greeted me with a grin. “Any bets on who’s going to cause a scandal?”

I chuckled. That was typical Valerio. “I think there’s a lot of potential gathered here today.”

Valerio nodded.

To be honest, I was glad for any kind of distraction as long as people didn’t pay attention to me. Mom had assured me that talk about Maximus and me had died down, and I didn’t want it to start again.

The music began playing, and a hush fell over the crowd. I turned toward the bride. Greta was gorgeous in her dress, and her limp wasn’t noticeable at all. Maximus had encouraged me to spend time with her now that she would be living in New York, and maybe I would. Her trauma was different from mine, but that didn’t mean we couldn’t bond because of it.

When Greta reached the front, her gaze locked with Amo, and my belly tightened at the sight of their blatant adoration and love for each other. This wasn’t a marriage of convenience. This was pure love. I’d never expected a love marriage, but the marriage Maximus and I currently led was far less than I’d hoped for. It was mostly my fault. I avoided him as much as possible and never joined him when he helped out at the shelter on weekends. He even suggested we could spend time doing other things, but I’d pretended I needed to help Mom with my younger sisters or study for college. Neither was true.

He eventually stopped asking. The only time we spent together was in the morning when we both had coffee and in the evening after Maximus got home. Maybe fifteen minutes altogether every day. Maximus had dinner at work because I told him I ate with my parents and siblings, which wasn’t the case. I simply wasn’t hungry in the evenings.

The last wedding I’d attended had been my own. I didn’t have many happy memories about it.

Witnessing Amo’s and Greta’s interactions throughout the festivities, I felt a deep longing inside me. A longing for a love of my own. I wasn’t delusional; it was highly unlikely that Maximus and I would ever love each other, but I wanted a different kind of love in my life. The love of a child.

Just thinking about my wish made me feel guilty and anxious at the same time. My eyes sought Maximus. He was talking to Matteo. I had spent most of the wedding chatting with Isabella and Aurora.

Would Maximus agree to a baby?

And then another question popped in my head. How would we even do it? Maximus and I didn’t even share a bed. We hadn’t shared any intimacy since we’d married, and the one intimacy we’d shared before was the reason I was anxious to consider being with him on a physical level.

Maximus hadn’t given me any reason to fear him in our marriage, but I knew memories from the past would undoubtedly emerge if I was intimate with him.

Yet I didn’t want to use medical help unless necessary. I wanted this baby to be conceived the natural way. This time, I wanted to do everything right.

Maximus glanced my way. I flushed because I wasn’t sure how long I’d been staring at him. Concern crossed his face. I forced a small smile to assure him I was fine.

From an outsider’s standpoint, Maximus was an attractive man. I didn’t doubt that many women wouldn’t have any problems jumping in bed with him. If I was being honest, I had been attracted to him when he’d picked me up from college before we got kidnapped. But I had never allowed myself to see him that way again—from fear of opening old wounds.

Now I’d have to face those fears if I wanted to become a mother and try to see Maximus as the man I’d been attracted to again and not a memento of our past trauma.

Sara kept throwing glances my way during our weekly shared dinner. I wasn’t sure what the problem was. I finally met her gaze when I couldn’t stand the silence anymore. “What’s going on?”

She flushed. “Nothing.”

I put my fork down and sat back. I was done with this. Our marriage had never been good, but since I’d killed our attackers, it had become disastrous. “The way you’re looking at me is not nothing.”

Was she angry because of how I’d handled the revenge on Jabba and his men? I’d killed another one of the assholes involved in the kidnapping only a couple of weeks ago, but again, Sara’s reaction to the news had been lackluster. “I didn’t think you’d want to be present during the torture. They got what they deserved. Your dad and I made sure of it.”

She grimaced. “I know. You were very busy with revenge.”

“I thought you wanted revenge.”

She stood with a look of disappointment. “You got your revenge. For you, it’s over. But for me, it’s not.” It was obvious she wanted to end the conversation, but I couldn’t take all these unspoken accusations any more. It was slowly killing me.

“I’m here,” I growled as I stepped in her way. “You can do to me whatever you want. Fuck, I can give you an array of tools you can use to torture me and get the revenge you deserve.”

Sara’s eyes brimmed with confusion and shock. She touched her lips with her fingertips, obviously stunned into silence by my words.

“Just say the words. I’m yours. If causing me pain helps you heal, do it. Just fucking do it. Nothing’s worse than this fucking charade of a marriage we’re in.”

She swallowed hard and looked away, her dark brows pulled down in a harsh frown. “I never wanted to cause you pain.” She tried to walk past me again.

“Why not?” I stepped in front of her, so fucking tired of tiptoeing around the elephant in the room. “I hurt you, so now you should hurt me.”

She tilted her head up and met my gaze. It was the first time we really looked each other in the eyes for more than a fleeting moment. Tears shone in her brown eyes. My stomach tightened at the sight. Nothing hit me harder than the sadness in my wife’s eyes. It was the fucking worst torture in the world, so whatever pain Sara wanted to cause me would never measure up to one look from her. “I’m not angry with you.”

Rage flooded me. How could she say that? “What a load of crap. I’m fucking mad at myself, and you have to be too.”

“Don’t tell me what I’m supposed to feel!” she hissed, her face flashing with fury. I straightened in surprise. I’d never seen Sara furious. She was always poised and gentle-minded, the very opposite of me. “Maybe your anger is the problem, but don’t make it out to be my issue. I’m not angry with you.”

“But you can’t stand my presence either,” I accused. Maybe I preferred her anger. It was better than Sara’s usual indifference.

She let out a sigh but didn’t contradict me. “If you really want to help me heal, help me become a mother. I want nothing more than a baby.”

I was completely taken aback by her request. Since we’d lost our unborn child and could barely be considered husband and wife, I’d put any thought of us becoming a family out of my mind. My life had centered around brutal revenge.

“You want a baby from me?”

“You’re my husband.”

Ahh, yes. She wanted a baby from her husband, not really me. Because I wasn’t the man she wanted at her side, just the man she had to tolerate.

I worried about what it would do to Sara if we lost another child. What if she had another miscarriage? And that was only the tip of the iceberg of my worries. “Sara, what we have can hardly be considered a marriage. We don’t talk, and we rarely see each other. You avoid me as much as you can. Do you really think this is an environment for a child?” Not to mention that we didn’t even share a bed. Fuck, did she realize I might have to touch her if she wanted a baby?

“We married because I was pregnant. We didn’t have any kind of relationship back then either. Nothing changed.”

“Because we didn’t try to change it,” I gritted out. I had tried in the beginning but eventually gave up. It wasn’t my place to push Sara, even if our broken marriage frustrated me.

Tears glistened in her eyes. “All I want is a baby. Will you help me?”

How could I say no?

“If that’s what you really want, then I’ll help you in whatever way you need.”

She swallowed and released a small breath, then tugged a hair behind her ear and gave me a nervous look. “I ovulate in two days.”

It took me a moment to understand what she meant. Wow, she really waited until the last moment to bridge the subject. “How do you want to do it?” I asked matter-of-factly. I tried to keep my emotions out of it.

It was an absurd question. But I couldn’t imagine Sara wanting to conceive in the natural way. Fuck, I wasn’t sure I even wanted to try. For our marriage, a sterile in vitro fertilization or whatever it was called would be best.

She swallowed. “I’m doing ovulation tests so when my hormone level spikes, it would be necessary for us to be intimate. Maybe one time will work like last time.” She fell silent.

Like last time. I didn’t want any of our future sexual encounters to be anything like that nightmare. I wanted to make up for the shit show she’d suffered through her first time. But for her, sex with me was a necessary evil she’d endure to get what she wanted: a baby.

I couldn’t even blame her. Why would she want to be intimate with me for any other reason? I hadn’t dared imagine being with Sara like that again and had stopped my mind every time it had wandered there when I’d seen her in pretty clothes.

“You really want to try the natural way?” I asked tightly. I hadn’t even seen her naked or in underwear since our capture. Having sex was quite a leap for us.

Her cheeks reddened, and she looked away. I hated it when she avoided my eyes. “If you can do it…”

I wasn’t sure what she meant by it. “If that’s what you want.” I didn’t think it was a good idea. What if it ripped open old wounds that hadn’t even fully healed yet? Sara had already lost so much weight. I worried what this would do to her.

She gave a terse nod. “It is.”

“Then we’ll do it.”

“I have another request. I know it’s a lot to ask for, but if things go as planned, it might only be for a very short time.”

I raised my eyebrows in confusion.

“Can you please not be with any other women as long as we have to be intimate?”

I clenched my jaw and turned sideways, glaring at nothing in particular.

“I know it’s a lot to ask—”

“Dammit, Sara,” I muttered, turning back around to her. I couldn’t fucking believe her. “That’s what you think of me? Yes? That I’ve been fucking other girls all this time?”

She blinked up at me and swallowed hard. “We weren’t intimate…and I know you and Amo used to be wild.”

I nodded grimly. “Used to be.” I raised my finger with our wedding ring. “Before I put this on. Maybe our marriage is hardly that. Maybe it’s mostly for show, but my parents taught me to honor marriage so that’s what I’m doing.”

“I’m sorry for insinuating you weren’t faithful,” she said quietly.

I gave a terse nod. I was done with this conversation. “Is there anything else you want from me?”

“No.”

“Then everything’s settled. In two days, we’ll be intimate. Hopefully, you’ll get your baby so we won’t have to repeat it.”

She left the kitchen and headed for her room. Soon after, I heard retching and the flush of the toilet. I sagged against the kitchen counter and closed my eyes. If the mere thought of sex with me already made her feel sick, trying to get her pregnant was going to be a nightmare.