Mafia Casanova - Page 45

My gaze stayed intensely absorbed in Eden’s. Hers stayed fixated on mine. This trance was different than anything I’d ever felt with her before. We’d been doing this dance with our eyes for as long as I could remember.

This one was definitely different.

This one held so much emotion.

So much hurt.

Pain.

Regret.

This one would destroy.

Tristian thanked the room for being quiet and continued on with his speech. “I would like to start off by saying that I love my wife very fucking much. She is all I ever wanted. This life. Our son. She’s mine. To this day, I think I love her more than I did when we got engaged, married. Became a family. I have done everything I can for her. I’ve given her my heart and soul. Hell, I’ve given her every new car she could ever want, every designer purse.” He chuckled. “There is nothing on this damn planet that this lovely woman wants for. Except…” He reached for her, wrapping his arm around her shoulder and tugging her close to the side of his body.

Our eyes stayed locked together; nothing or no one for that matter could ever break that between us.

I had that.

It belonged to me.

I knew the second the words fell from his lips, that would be it. Our glass house would shatter around us. The last tether would be cut for good.

“Does my wife love me?” Tristian snidely questioned. “More than she loves m—”

And just like that, the rope was cut in two.

Except it also sliced…

My heart in two.

“Tristian!” I chimed in. “I think you’ve had enough to drink!”

“And here comes my baby brother, the hero to the rescue!”

Juliet added, “I think Romeo is right. Can someone please take the mic from him, please?”

Well shit…

I guess not only did our mother know what was happening, but our baby sister did as well.

Tristian pushed away one of the associates when he tried to grab the microphone out of his hand.

Did he have a death wish?

In six long strides, I was yanking the mic out of Tristian’s hand myself.

“Always the fucking hero,” he belligerently snapped.

I grabbed ahold of his head from the back of his neck and whispered in his ear, “You won’t even remember this in the morning, and by then, the damage you’re trying to inflict will already be done. It’s not her I’m trying to save; it’s you.”

I didn’t allow him the chance to fight me; I gripped onto his arm and dragged him into his office. Pretty much throwing him on his ass.

“What the fuck, man?” I snarled through a clenched jaw. Before I could shut the door behind me, Eden followed us in. Slamming the door behind her.

“How could you be such an asshole?” she roared, getting in his face. “Do you have any idea what you could have done? It’s our son’s birthday party! Do you have no decency?”

“Decency?” he repeated, obviously offended. “You want to talk to me about decency?”

“Yes! I do!” she bit back. “I’m sick and tired of you blaming me for something I haven’t done!”

“Haven’t done now? Or haven’t done since we said our vows?”

“For the love of God, Tristian! What are you accusing me of?”

“You know exactly what I’m talking about!”

“Then just say it! I’m sick of playing these games with you! Just say what you want to know!”

“Eden, don’t—”

Interrupting me, Tristian seethed, “DID YOU FUCK MY BROTHER, YOU WHORE?!”

I fell back from the impact of his words, his question, his wrath.

Eden’s fist was in his face, cold clocking him right in the jaw. His head swooshed back from the force of her assault.

“Don’t you ever speak to me like that again!”

With his hand on his mouth, he moved around his jaw, realizing she had just hit him. He gripped onto the front of her dress, and that was when I stepped in, made him let her go.

“She didn’t fuck me, Tristian,” I lied, having enough of this. She didn’t need to pay for my sins. “There. Feel better now? Let it go.”

“I’ll let it go when you let her go,” he asserted, standing tall and proud. “She’s my wife, and I’ve waited long enough, don’t you think?”

Eden affirmed, “It’s in your own head, Tristian. When are you going to let this obsession go? I’m married to you. We share a son. What more do you want from me that I’m not already giving you?”

“I don’t believe Romeo for a second; I want to hear you say it. Tell me, say the words. Did you fuck my brother?”

Her eyes widened as if she was standing on trial, and in a jaded way, she was.

We both were.

I never imagined it would be my brother who was handing out our execution.

“Here’s your chance, Eden. Tell me the truth.”

With her stare solely concentrated on him, she uttered, “What does it matter? I married you, didn’t I?”

Tags: M. Robinson, Rachel Van Dyken Erotic
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