Page 105 of Mafia Toy

“Go back home,” I said, sitting at my desk and busying myself with work.

She slammed her hands down onto it. “Constantino, you’re angry. Why?”

“Because,” I growled, finally losing it, “you chose the baby.”

Laila stared at me like I was insane. “Over Bethany, yes, I did. What’s the problem?”

“The problem was that you had a choice between Sage and Bethany, not a baby and Bethany.” I balled my hands into tight fists by my sides and stood. “And you fucking chose the baby over Sage, over me, overus.The baby was what pushed you over the edge, not the two people you claimed to love.” Hot tears burned my eyes, but I wouldn’t let my wife see me cry.

I had been the strongest man alive for her. I couldn’t be weak now.

While I expected her to roll her eyes or deny that it had ever happened, she dropped her gaze. “I’m sorry.”

“Is that how you really feel?”

“What?” she whispered, peering back up at me. “Of course not.”

But that was a lie.

I had killed too many people to know that when they were in a desperate position, they spoke the truth. Maybe Bethany could lie in that kind of position, but it was hard to do when there was a gun pointed at someone you loved.

And Laila had never been a good liar.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered, moving closer to me. She gently grasped my face. “Don’t cry.” Tears streamed down her face, her shoulders caving in. “Please, don’t cry, Constantino. I will always choose you. No matter what.”

I ripped myself away and turned my back toward her, wiping the tears from my eyes. “Leave.”

“Constantino, please.”

“Leave, Laila,” I growled. “I need a break.”

“A break?” she whispered. “A break from us?”

I stayed quiet. I loved my wife, but I … couldn’t do this right now. I couldn’t.

“Leave,” I said harsher, not turning around.

She shuffled toward the door, whispered, “I love you,” and then walked out of my life.

65

laila

Tears streamed down my cheeks.I hurried through the grinding bodies in the club and headed straight toward the exit. My husband was … tired of me. After all these years, he had finally decided that he didn’t want to put up with my shit any longer.

A sob escaped my mouth, but the music drowned it out.

I didn’t blame him. I had been a hormonal wreck lately.

This was what I deserved.

Drunk men and women pushed back against me, and I stumbled through the crowd.

While I had killed Bethany unwillingly, I didn’t feel stuck anymore, didn’t feel the need for her approval. I was free for the first time in the past few years. I was dying on the inside because my husband didn’t want me around, but this was the first time in a long time that I felt so good without her.

So, so good.

“Laila!” someone said from my right.

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