Page 157 of Mafia And Maid

I purse my lips, waiting for him to catch up with what I’ve spent the last two days coming to terms with. I can’t keep her. Keeping her means hurting her, and that thought makes my stomach roil. She deserves the chance to be free and happy. To start afresh away from Chicago and that piece-of-shit husband of hers.

I’d only ruin her. Trap her here in a world that would tear her apart. The judgmental looks and whispers would only grow. She deserves better.

After all, that’s what devils do, isn’t it? Corrupt the pure things in life just for the hell of it.

I’ve always known deep down that whatever beast I am, I’m not made for a happy ending.

“She deserves the chance to be free.” I’m not looking at Marco as I say the words. My gaze is on the dark view outside the window. The barest hint of Chicago’s skyline skims the horizon as the deep darkness of the night starts to chase away the dusky tones of sunset. The inevitable change settles something in my gut. An acceptance of some kind.

“And if she wants to stay?”

“She won’t. There’s no reason she’ll stay with us.” I want to addwith me, but I don’t. “We’re not the right kind of people for that.”

“Bullshit.”

A bitter laugh bubbles in my throat, and I lift my gaze back to Marco. He doesn’t get it. As much as they tried to protect me, it wasn’t enough. “It doesn’t matter. It’s how the world works, Marco. After the funeral, she’ll be back to collect her things and get away.”

“Are you going?”

“Going?”

“The funeral, dumbass.”

“I… No.”

“You should.”

“I really shouldn’t.”

“Not looking like you just stumbled out of a fucking dive bar and smelling like one, no. But you should go.”

“Why? I’ve made enough problems for her just by showing up at her family’s home. She doesn’t want me there.”

“Did she say that?”

“No. But she didn’t say the opposite either.”

“Millo,” Marco huffs, “go take a damn shower, change, and go to the funeral. If anything, do it to just show your respects to Rosa. I think you owe her that much.”

The look Marco levels with me isn’t one I see on his face often. In fact, I’m not really sure what to make of it. But it’s clear that if I’m not going to go because of Rosa, he’s going to make me.

I sigh. “Fine.”

“Good. Now if you fucking ever do that shit again, being my little brother isn’t going to save you from getting your ass kicked.”

My mouth twitches. “You’d throw your back out, old man.”

“Go.”

I let the door close behind me. Alessio, Cate, and Juliana are all huddled together when I emerge. It’s clear they’re waiting for details, for some explanation to ease the worry they felt as sharply as Marco had. But unable to talk anymore for now, I decide I’ll have to fill them in later.

***

This is a terrible fucking idea.

I should have fought harder against this when Marco strongarmed me into coming.

St. Hyacinth’s Basilica is packed. But unlike the last time I was here, the church isn’t decorated in delicate pink and white. Instead, people in black and dark gray line the pews, their soft murmurs punctuated by a few stray sniffles, while floral arrangements fill the space with their sickly scent.

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