Page 62 of Twins for the Mafia Heir

How dare she. How. Fucking.Dare. She. I said the words first, and I said them to a woman I didn’t even know throwing them back in my face after getting to know me better than she ever should-

Before I turn my back on her forever, I tell her the only thing I can bear to say.

“I never want to see you again.”

Outside the airport, I don’t bother to call another cab. It’ll take me over half an hour to walk back to the safe house, but I don’t care. I need to breathe this freezing night air to remind myself that I’m alive. I need my feet to keep moving, one in front of the other, or I’ll rattle out of my own skin.

I need to walk away from Emma of my own will, or I’ll turn and run down her plane.

I forgot Sidony’s Christmas presents in my private room back at the hotel, and I hate that I have to go back through the lobby alone where the man at reception clearly saw me with a woman. He knows what’s good for him, though, and he doesn’t say a word as he opens the elevator for me. I try not to think about going up this elevator with Emma in my arms, try not to remember how warm she was as I peeled off her clothes, how sweet she tasted, how entrancing the sounds she made-

Sidony’s gifts sit on the carpet near the elevator, just inside the room where I left them as I pulled Emma toward the bed. The mattress is still dipped where our bodies pressed into it, the coverlet rumpled from our passionate writhing.

I tear my eyes away from the bed and retrieve the packages. On the street outside the hotel, my gaze strays to a public trash can sitting on the curb. For one, horrible second, I consider stuffing the wrapped packages into it. The things inside were picked out by Emma, Emma who lied to me and lied to my daughter and wormed her way into our lives and then-

But I have nothing else to give Sidony for Christmas. And even though the world feels like it’s tumbling down aroundmyhead, there’s still a chance she’ll be able to enjoy the holiday. Despite everything, I can’t take that away from her.

Tucking the packages back under my arm, I stuff my hands into the pockets of my coat, fiddling with the wedding ring on my finger, and trudge back through the Edinburgh streets toward the safe house, alone.

Chapter 33

Emma

This is only the second time in my life I’ve been on a plane, and it’s disorienting how different it is from the first time. A luxurious private jet, fear and uncertainty for the near future, and a gorgeous man dressed like a model with a tongue like a lash.

And now I’m choking back tears of loss in the middle aisle of an enormous crowded commercial flight.

I should’ve known things would end this way. I should’ve kept my emotions in check. I should’ve remembered that my marriage with Achilles was a total sham, that I was actually a hostage and a spy, that I would always have to run when things got bad-

But for a glorious moment, I truly thought… I thought I could fight for what I wanted head on. I thought I could keep it all if I just wanted it badly enough.

When the hell has that ever worked for you, Emma?

I stifle another sob, too aware of the people on my right and left and in front of me and behind me- The plane’s lights are dim for the night flight. Logically, I know many of the other passengers are sleeping, but it doesn’t matter. There are too many strangers in here, and I feel like an exposed nerve.

My heart is shattering to pieces in my hands, and logic be damned, but I’m sure they can all see it happening.

To no one’s surprise, it takes me half the flight just to get my eyes closed, but my mind is swirling with so much turmoil I don’t actually sleep. By the end of the flight, I have a speech ready for Thomas, but I don’t know how coherent it is. My timezones are completely out of order and my eyes are crusted almost shut from crying and lack of sleep.

When the plane lands, I let the unloading crowd carry me off into an airport hazy with new morning light because I can hardly feel my own body.

I might be back in the right country and city, but getting back to the Warwick estate is easier said than done. I didn’t have a single bill on me when Achilles put me on the plane, British or otherwise, so I have no fare for a cab. I didn’t have a cellphone either, so calling Paul or Raleigh for a ride is out of the question. I linger in the crowded areas of the airport, wondering if I should pick the pockets of the travelers around me to get enough money for a cab. Then I remember that I may only have the clothes on my back, but the clothes on my back areexpensive. As is the jewelry I never had the chance to take off when Ashwood House was raided. In the end, I walk to the pickup area outside the airport and flag down a cab anyway.

Luckily, my eyes are already puffy and red from tears, and it’s easier than I’d like to admit to summon up fresh ones. I flag down a cab and add a quiver to my lip when I climb in the back seat.

“Oh sir!” I exclaim miserably, “some- some monster stole my wallet after I got off the plane. I-I don’t have any money but-”

“No money, no ride, lady,” the driver says without emotion. “Sorry, nothing personal.”

I let the tears start falling over my flushed cheeks. My voice rises to a wail. I’m prepared to make a scene if I have to, but I’m hoping he’ll take my offer before that happens. “B-B-But sir, please!! I just need to get home, and I can pay you as soon as I’m there.”

“You really think I’ll believe-”

“Fine- fine!! If you can’t wait, I have this!”

I unclasp a golden bangle studded with tiny garnets from around my wrist and hold it out. I can tell the man is about to refuse on principle, but then his eyes catch on the flash of the gems and the shine of the gold. He’s thinking about how authentic it looks, and that even if it’s a pain to pawn himself, he’ll get much more than the value of the ride for it.

Also, it’ll shut up this wild sobbing woman in his backseat before she starts drawing a crowd.

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