Maybe I should take her out there. I wonder if she’s ever been. But I don’t ask. I allow the silence to unravel my thoughts, untwining them, inch by inch until I’m left with more questions.
“I’m sorry,” Elisabet finally speaks again. Her voice is a whispered welcome in the darkness. I don’t respond. I hope my quietness will force her to continue. And I’m right. “My father is a powerful man. He’s dangerous as well. When I turned eighteen, he wanted me to work with him, to sit alongside him, and he promised my hand in marriage to someone I didn’t love.”
Every nerve in my body sparks with both rage and jealousy. She’s been given to a man to marry, and she has no say in the matter. That is wrong on so many levels, and as much as I would love to say something, to fight for her, I don’t. I wait it out because I have a feeling more is coming.
“He didn’t love me either. And even though he’s not a good man, he allowed me to leave. He helped me actually.” Her words offer answers, some that I’ve been wondering for a while.
My body is rigid, my blood hot with jealous rage. I’ve never been the jealous type. If a woman wants to move on with another man, I never give a shit. If a man looked at any of the women I had on my arm, I would walk away, leaving her to enjoy her life. But with Elisabet, it’s different. I can’t explain why, and I can’t even describe the need to protect her, because she doesn’t come across as fragile. That is, until last night when she broke down.
“He had offered to help me, giving me the money to buy the shop with. IT was a gift. He told me if I wanted a life without him, it was my choice, but I had my father to answer to. It was meant to be a loan, nothing more. I’m not tied to him in any way; it’s just a friend helping another friend.” Even as she says it, I have a feeling there’s much more to the story.
More silence drags between us, and I allow it to because I can’t speak. If I do, I’ll say something stupid. Something that will only make her angry or hurt her, so I stay quiet while fisting my hands at my sides. If she sees the motion, she doesn’t mention it.
“He knows about you. He has men following me, making sure I don’t run off with his money. And as much as I hate him for it, I can’t blame him. He would never hurt me. At least, he’s always promised he wouldn’t. But I pushed you away because I didn’t want you to be in his line of sight, ever.”
“I’m not afraid of some asshole who wants to rule over a woman in need, Elisabet. If he comes at me, let him. I have my own contacts who can help me, and if you need something in future, you come to me,” I tell her, dropping to my knees beside the chair she’s still curled up on.
“Rome, you’re—”
“Listen to me,” I interrupt her, “I’m not some one-night stand you can hide in the closet anymore. You made the choice to be here, and I’m not letting you go. If you haven’t noticed, I’m a stubborn bastard.”
This makes her giggle. “I noticed.” She nods her head and smiles at me, which calms me somewhat.
“Are you some Mafia princess or something, Elisabet?” I finally ask. The question has her snapping her gaze to me, her eyes wide with shock, and I know I’ve hit the nail on the head. My worst fears have been realized.
She stills. Her body going rigid, and even as I watch her war with herself as she tries to hide the truth from me, I know I’m right. I have to be because she’s not answering me. Why else would she go quiet?
“No.” Elisabet turns away when she says this, and I wonder what else it could mean. She’s silent for a long while, before turning that gentle gaze back on me. “I’m not, but the man I was promised to is a Mafia boss. He’s . . . he’s well known in the underground as ruthless and violent, but he’s never done anything to me to make me believe the rumors.”
“Are they rumors?” I challenge. This time, her expression changes into one creased with fear. She doesn’t believe her lie, and neither do I. “Elisabet, if you’re in danger being here, I need to know.”
“Why? So you can play the hero, Rome?” Her gaze burns with fire and frustration, but she doesn’t move away from me like I thought she would. Surely, she can see how I feel about her. This whirlwind has turned me inside out, and I don’t know how else to be around her. I want to be her hero, but I also want to be someone who allows her to be independent, because if I don’t, I’ll lose her.