Ruthless Prince (Dark Syndicate 1)

He releases my hand, and I continue the rest of the way. I head straight up to Helena, but Bill, Jacob’s father, steps forward, probably gearing up to ask me to leave.

“Emelia—” he says, but I stop him. I shake my head firmly and stare him down.

“No, do not tell me to leave. Don’t do it. All of you.” I look at each member of Jacob’s immediate family and some of his cousins, aunts, and uncles I know. “All of you know me. You’ve known me since I was born, and you know how close I was to Jacob. You know I should be here. You can’t tell me to leave.”

“What about him?” Helena points to Massimo. “Are you going to say the same for him? Your husband?”

It still feels so weird to think of Massimo as my husband, but it’s the first time he feels like he is.

“He didn’t kill Jacob, Helena. It doesn’t matter what you believe though. He’s here to support me, and I’m here to say goodbye. I’ll do that, and then I’ll go. You’ll never see me again.” It’s hard to say such a thing to a woman who was close to me, like my own mother. But it’s harder to have her look at me the way she is.

Turning away from her, I face the glossy chestnut casket where my best friend was laid to rest forever. I never thought I would experience this day. Jacob had so much to live for. Gone far too soon.

I walk right up to him and lay the rose on top of the casket.

“Thank you for being my friend… Thank

you for being who you were. Thank you for being everything. I love you too,” I say and place my hand on the cool surface of the wood.

I stay like that for a few moments. Then it really hits me that he’s gone. My legs start to shake, and I tremble.

When warm fingers caress mine, I lift my head and find myself staring deep into Massimo’s bright blue gaze.

He covers my hand with his, giving me a gentle squeeze, and that’s how I find the strength to walk. Walk away.

The next two weeks follow, and I grieve by spending my days in the hall painting. I paint to forget, to cope, and to try and move on. It helped me when Mom died. When I paint, I escape, and I don’t think about anything else. The images that fill my mind replace my worries and fears. This is the first time in my life when I’ve had so much on my plate.

I’ve been purposely avoiding thinking about my less-than-perfect relationship with Massimo because it’s too confusing right now.

He’s been nice to me, and nice is what I’ve needed. My brain is trying to keep me grounded and my head screwed on. Although my heart misses the man it fell for. I’m aware, though, that each day that passes gets stranger than the last.

Today is Saturday again.

It’s a month since Massimo and I were married, and two months since we’ve been in this arrangement.

He leaves in the mornings, weekdays and weekends, and most days, he’s home by dinnertime. As to where he goes during the day, I don’t know. It could be work, as in D’Agostinos, the strip club, or something more dangerous. He never says. Though I can’t imagine that he could receive a warning of danger without doing anything about it. He said he would keep me safe. That was all I needed to know.

At night, we lie next to each other until we fall asleep.

That’s the routine we’ve fallen into. We don’t even kiss anymore. All that steam and wild sexual energy we shared before the wedding is gone. Not that I had time to think about sex with everything that’s happened with Jacob.

In the periods of time when I’ve allowed myself to think, I contemplated what must have happened to Jacob. What he saw and heard that he shouldn’t have. What more could have happened?

Today, Massimo left a little earlier than usual, so I decided to change up my routine and spend the day on the beach reading one of the thriller novels I was going to read in Florence.

Every time since the fundraiser when I’ve gone to the beach, I’ve thought of my conversation with Dad and making that escape. Every time. In the back of my mind, I’ve been waiting for that moment Candace suggested. The right time. The moment when I knew I’d earned Massimo’s trust.

I think I have it now. I am at the point where he trusts me.

The last two weeks have seen that change I was waiting for. Since the funeral, Massimo has eased up on the constant supervision. Maybe it was just as simple as him thinking I needed time to myself to breathe and to heal without having someone always looking over my shoulder. That small change, however, could mean a clear path to leave. A clear path to get to the cave, take the boat, and escape.

I’ve been out here today for six hours. Only once someone has come to check on me. That was Pricilla with some lunch. Just her. No guards.

Unlike all the times I’ve come out here before, when the thought of escaping crossed my mind today, I didn’t know if I could it do it.

I didn’t know if I could leave Massimo. I didn’t know if I could betray him like that, or my heart.

Things are different from when Candace put the idea in my head. I’m different. It would have actually been easier to run away when we first talked about it than to wait it out the way I have. Doing so changed me.