Page 30 of Stolen Sin

“Now she loves it,” Davide says, pulling his wife against him.

She laughs and twists in his arms, kissing his chin.

I open the door and slip inside, catching a worried look from Elena, but I hurry upstairs before they can stop me.

I won’t ever have what Stefania has with Davide. Their arrangement worked out, but that doesn’t mean mine’s going to. They had a lot going in their favor, but most of all, they entered into their relationship as equals.

Simon looms over me, looms over all of this, and I can’t shake the feeling that he’s casting a large shadow across my life.

I retreat into the guest room, close the door, and turn the lock, before I curl up in bed, not caring if my fancy silk blouse gets all wrinkled.

Chapter 17

Simon

I fucked that up beyond recognition.

My plan had been to wait. I wanted to tell my father about Emily on my own terms and to couch the whole arrangement as a beneficial business venture and as proof that I’m taking steps toward becoming the sort of man a Don must become. Instead, I rushed into that office thinking he already found out somehow—and totally blindsided myself.

He’d been angry that some of the soldiers under my control had decided to harass some Santoro business owners, which isn’t normally a big deal, except Dad remains in denial about the war. But once Emily was in the room, I couldn’t exactly not tell him.

Now he thinks I’m an impulsive fool and doesn’t buy my explanation. Even worse, I resorted to threatening him—and that only made things worse.

Once she was out of the room, he basically told me I’d better divorce her and get my shit together or things will get much worse.

I’m in a haze as I head back home. Stefania and Elena are sitting on my porch while Davide’s lurking nearby on his phone, probably talking with his top lieutenant Emilio. I give him a nod and head up to my door.

“You just gonna ignore us?” Elena says, hopping to her feet. “Emily already talked about what happened.”

I rest my hand on the doorknob, thinking about my wife lying alone upstairs. “Dad wasn’t happy.”

“Dad’s never happy,” Elena counters. “You knew this was an uphill battle. Don’t forget why you’re doing this.”

I take a deep breath and close my eyes, thinking about Emily on all fours underneath that desk, her dress pulled up around her hips, and I wonder if I’m being honest with myself.

“You’re right,” I say and head inside. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

Nobody follows. That’s for the best. I pour myself a glass of bourbon in the kitchen and knock half of it back before staring at the liquor, my head feeling numb.

If the whole point of marrying Emily is to convince my father that I’m stable and committed to becoming the Don, then that first meeting was a fucking disaster.

“You good?” Davide comes into the kitchen. He takes a look at my drink and takes the liberty of pouring himself one. “Girls told me it was bad.”

“Dad’s pissed. He thinks I should’ve let him arrange a match.”

Davide grunts and shrugs. “Could be worse. Worked out for me.”

“I’m going to be Don. I can’t let my father choose my own damn wife.” I grip my glass, hands shaking. “I don’t know what I was expecting, but it wasn’t that. He was so fucking… condescending. Like he was looking down on her.”

“He’s in a bad place right now.” Davide sits at the island and leans forward on his elbows. If there’s anyone in this family who knows about pain, it’s him. He’s been through so much in his life already, and he managed to pull through it.

“That’s exactly why he needs to step down. That’s why I married Emily. That’s the whole damn problem.” I throw back the rest of my drink. Bourbon isn’t going to make me feel better, not right now. I offer Davide the bottle, but he waves it away.

“Dad needs to see that first. You can’t force him.”

“Maybe not.” I look away. I hate feeling like I’m in opposition to my dad. Despite the way things have been lately, he was a good parent, a role model, and a loving father. We didn’t have the typical abusive mafia upbringing. My mother is the sweetest woman alive, and my father believed more in building a cohesive family unit than in beating us into submission.

I love him. We all love him. Which makes this entire thing so fucking hard.

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