Page 80 of His Bride

He leans forward and gives Enzo the full blast of the Alexius glower—the look that’s helped my brother broker, negotiate, conquer. “Do not play this game with me, Enzo. My wife is not for you to lay to rest the ridiculous rumors that have your panties in a bunch.”

“Good evening, Enzo.” Leandra appears at the door, wearing an emerald-green butterfly-sleeve, ruffle trim, asymmetrical hem dress, her hair styled in an elegant updo. This woman wears sophistication like a crown, her shoulders cloaked with confidence that can only come from being a Del Rossa wife.

Enzo smiles and stands, taking her hand, and places a chaste kiss on the top. “Mrs. Del Rossa. You look ravishing.”

“Take it down a notch, Enzo,” Nicoli warns, playing his part to perfection.

Enzo smiles. “I’ll be in town for a few days. Looking forward to catching up.”

A few days later, our Italian pimp leaves, and we breathe a small sigh of relief. He stayed long enough to force Leandra and Nicoli into two lunches and a fancy dinner with him. Isaia and I joined them every time, silently backing Nicoli in case something slipped.

While they acted as husband and wife, a part of me worried that they wouldn’t be able to sell it. They don’t have that magic, that thing that exists with Alexius and Leandra. But Enzo works for us, so I don’t think he looked that closely.

I hoped he went home, his cock no doubt more than polished by the girls at Club Myth, to report all was good in Chicago—that the Dark Sovereign and its leader were stronger than ever.

More importantly, when a strike came—and it would—the man responsible forthreatening womenwould go down. That’s how Nico framed it, not Alexius taking a bullet, but the fact that Aurelio threatened women.

I sit on my sofa and stare at the new divorce papers and smoke. “Fuck. Fuck it all.”

Dumping them, I pick up my phone and go to Giana’s name.New York.That’s her name on my phone. I want to call her, tell her I know what we can do with these papers—exactly what we did with them last time.

I drag air into my lungs as my thumb hovers over the screen. It would take nothing to type her a message.

Taunt her.

Try to make her text me back, to establish that contact I’ve been missing so damn much. That’s all I need, just another opening, an opportunity to smash through the walls she’s built. But what’s that going to achieve?

She hasn’t left her family estate. And now that I’ve got my men on alert to let me know if Aurelio even dares put his nose within a five-block radius of her address, there’s less reason than ever to contact her.

She said her piece. I said mine.

I rub the sore spot on my chest, a spot inside where it aches.

Who invented love, anyway? And why didn’t they finish the job, install an off-switch or a goddamn delete button? Backspace. Control, alt, delete. Just something to make it go away. What I’ll do for a black screen of death right now.

Someone thumps on my door. I’m about to tell Isaia to go fuck himself when he opens the door and saunters in. “You ready?”

“Hello to you, too. Hey, listen, ever think it might be your manners hindering your chances of getting a girlfriend?”

“Says the one staring at his divorce papers like a forlorn teenager having his first heartbreak.”

I get up, straighten my tie, and pull on my suit jacket. “Maybe that’s why the only girl you’re in a relationship with is your yellow monstrosity of a car.”

“You can talk.” We glare at each other, and I smack the back of his head. He returns the favor.

I’m debating fighting him when Nicoli and Leandra appear. Nicoli scowls. “When you two are done pissing on one another, we need to leave.”

“Remind me why I need to go to this thing.”

Leandra threads her arm through mine. “It’s a fundraiser. We need to be seen as a unit.”

“See,” Isaia chimes in, “she gets it.”

I want to tell him how many times he can go screw himself until he’s bent sideways when Leandra squeezes my arm. “Alexius is getting better, by the way. I’ll let you know when you can see him.”

Oh, fuck, now she’s scrambling my heart like it’s a damn egg. I stop on the landing. “Leandra, I’m sorry for being a dick.”

“And I’m sorry for what I said. I just…” She raises her head. “He’s my life.”

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