Page 39 of Bastard Prince
I looked back to her, marching across the room toward me, dressed this time in simple black leggings and a loose-fitting shirt in a deep purple color. She was dressed differently than I’d ever seen her before, this simple outfit not really meant to express anything but comfort, and she looked fuckin’ delicious. I stared for a minute at the way the stretchy fabric hugged the curves of her hips, wanting nothing more than to sink my fingers into her ass and haul her against me.
I hadn’t had a name for the restlessness I had been feeling these last two days, the clawing sensation inside my chest that I could feel scratching at my ribs like a ravenous beast, but I did now; it had been longing. I missed my wife.
Bringing myself back to the matter at hand, I blinked, my jaw dropping open as Francesca climbed into the ring, kicking off her shoes and standing before me with bare feet. She was a tiny thing, my furious wife, with the top of her head only coming up to my sternum, but that didn’t make her any less dangerous.
“Francesca,” I began, but she cut me off.
“You don’t get to pull that shit on me, Enzo. Do you hear me?”
“What shit?” I asked, genuinely confused.
“I get you’re pissed. But guess what? So am I.” I could see her anger in the flush of her face, the tremors in her hands, and her wide pupils. “But that’s not how shit is gonna work between us, understand?”
“Francesca,” I tried again. “What are you talking about?”
“You wanna fight? Then let’s fight. But no more of this silent treatment bullshit. I won’t have it, Enzo. I won’t.”
“Can we just fuckin’ talk about this?”
“Fight me,” she pressed, stepping forward and slamming both palms against my chest, the sudden movement catching me off guard and I stumbled back a step.
“Francesca, what the hell?” I snarled, frowning at her. She moved again, coming closer, and I immediately stepped back. “I will not fight you.”
“You promised me,” she raged still chasing me around the ring as I continued to move backward. “You said we were in this together. And I believed you. But at the first sign of trouble, the first time we face something as a couple, as partners, you bail.”
“This isn’t ‘trouble,’ Francesca,” I said, stopping my backwards movements and facing her. “This is you lying to me.”
“I never lied to you,” she insisted.
“Are you or are you not Frankie the Wolf?” I asked her, point-blank. She swallowed, my eyes drawn to the movement of her throat as she waited to respond. “It’s a simple enough question, Francesca.”
“But it’s not a simple answer, Enzo.”
“I think it is,” I countered, crossing my arms. “Yes or no.”
Her eyes narrowed, and I could practically see her thoughts churning. Francesca took one deep breath and then another before finally answering me. “You have no idea what it was like, the last six months of my life,” she said quietly, her eyes dropping for a second. “They all left me. My family, all my friends. People I had spent my entire life with, been loyal too, defended and protected. I loved them! And what did they do?” She scoffed. “At the first sign of trouble...”
“They bailed,” I finished for her when she seemed unwilling to complete her sentence.
My words drew her eyes back up to mine, her angry fire back in full force. “Exactly,” she snarled. “They were weak.” She stepped to me again, but this time, I didn’t step back. Her chest pressed right into mine and I could feel the rhythm of her heaving breaths as she spoke. “They were all weak and afraid, unable to do what was right when faced with a tough choice. They decided I wasn’t worth sacrificing their comfortable little bubbles for, and I refuse to go through that again.” She glared, daring me to defy her, to say she was wrong and call her a liar.
But I couldn’t.
“I came here with nothing, Enzo. Not a friend I could call or a person I could rely on. What choice did I have but to look out for myself?” She moved backward, crossing her arms and schooling her features. I watched again as that emotionless mask slid into place; her greatest defense. “If you want to blame me for hiding it from you, then so be it. But I refuse to apologize for doing what any Made Man in my position would have done.” Francesca raised her chin defiantly. “I was a good soldier, Enzo, and it got me nowhere. Now, I’m gonna be the Boss, and no one is going to stand in my way. Not you. Not some shadowed hit man. No one.”
I stared at her from across the ring, feeling my heart pounding in my chest. She was right. Of course, she was right.
But at the same time, she was so, so wrong.
“You think I liked my choices in all of this?” I fired back, my voice raising. “You think I had any idea what I was getting into with you?”
“At least you had a choice.”
“You’re right; I did. And I chose you, Francesca. I chose you at that church in New York. I chose you that night atLust.And I fuckin’ chose you last week, right here in this club, in front of anyone and everyone. I. Chose. You.” I paused, letting my words sink in. “I thought you’d done the same for me.”
“I have, Enzo,” she insisted. “You know I have.”
“Then what the hell is the goddamn problem?”
