Becoming His Wife by Hayley Faiman

Chapter Twenty-Five

TIZIANO

The woman next to me rolls over and my stomach clenches at the sight of her naked body next to mine. Sitting straight up, I run my palm over my face and let out a heavy breath. Fuck me. What have I done? She moans and I look back over my shoulder, horrified.

I recognize her. She’s one of the women from the club. I’ve been working in Rome for the past month, waiting for my call to go back to New York, waiting to hear from Gavino, but all has been quiet—too quiet.

I shouldn’t be giving in and giving up, but apparently, I did. I don’t remember what happened last night. After the club was closed, Elio and I did what we always do. We played cards until the place was cleaned up and the girls were ready to go home.

Except last night not all of the girls went home. Just like back in Positano, Campania, Elio has found a steady woman to have in his bed. I don’t blame him, I would have done the same a few months ago, before Maci.

The woman behind me must feel my gaze on her. She is on her stomach. She turns her head and cracks an eye, then smiles at me before she pushes up to a seated position. She’s completely naked, her breasts on display and I can’t help but glance down before I shift my gaze back to meet her eyes.

“Nothing happened,” she offers with a grin. “We were both trashed. You told me about your wife, we passed out.”

“I told you about my wife?”

She nods her head slowly. “You did. Pretty blonde named Maci. You said you couldn’t wait to see her again. I wish I had a man half as faithful and devoted as you.”

“Yeah?” I ask on a chuckle, my entire body filled with relief.

I could do what I want with other women, but I always said that I wouldn’t, not if I had a good wife. Maci is a good one, I can feel it in my bones.

“I need a shower and to go home,” the woman beside me breathes.

Nodding my head, I pull on some pants and leave her to the bathroom as I make my way into the living area. Elio is sitting on the balcony where I usually find him in the morning, a cup of coffee in hand.

“Your woman already leave?” I ask.

He snorts. “Shower,” he says as his explanation. “Yours?”

“Not my woman,” I grind out. “But shower as well.”

He doesn’t say anything, he knows how I feel, where my heart lies. He won’t ask and he wouldn’t judge, even if something had happened between us. It didn’t. I think that she was being more than truthful with that knowledge, though she could lie and I wouldn’t even know it, I can’t remember shit.

“I need to talk to Gavino,” I announce.

He dips his chin and surprisingly, he tosses his cell phone at me. “You do,” he agrees.

Without hesitating, I scroll through Elio’s phone until I find Gavino’s name. Touching the screen, I hold the phone to my ear and in the distance, I hear Elio head back inside, giving me privacy.

“Elio,” Gavino grunts.

“Tiziano, actually,” I say.

There is a long moment of silence, then I hear Gavino let out a long-exhaled sigh. “You’re okay,” he says. “I heard what your father did over there.”

“Di Stefano is taking care of the Mazzas,” I reply. “When do I come home?”

“The feds are up my ass, up Mia’s too. They think they have something, they’re trying their damnedest to pin some shit on us.”

“What does this have to do with me?” I ask.

I’m done. It’s been months since all of this went down and my patience is gone. It’s fucking gone. Anger bubbles inside of me, and I’ve had it. I almost fucked someone else out of desperate loneliness, that is not okay. I need to get home to my goddamn wife.

“You think I can take care of Bianchi with the feds on my ass? You think I can make any moves at all?” he demands.

“I’ve had zero updates about my wife, about this situation, about my father. I’ve had fucking nothing except being told over and over again to have patience. I’m all goddamn out of it. You don’t have to take care of shit, Vino.”

“Yeah, and what? You gonna do it?”

“Yeah, that’s right. I fucking am. I should have done it a long goddamn time ago.”

We’re both silent for a long moment, then he lets out a breath. “He’s got eyes on the airports, he’ll know the second your plane lands and you’ll be gone before you can collect your baggage.”

Pressing my lips together, I try not to lose my fucking shit. Shaking my head, I decide that I don’t care. I’ll figure it out when I get there.

“Have a gun at the airport for me in a locker. I’ll be there by end of week.”

Ending the call, I let out a growl. “You’re heading back,” Elio announces from behind me.

Turning to him, I arch a brow before I toss his phone back to him. “You want to join?” I ask. I’m being completely serious too. I want him to come back with me. I need a good man that I can trust.

He shakes his head a couple of times. “It’s not for me, this gig is where I belong, with my own famiglia, but I’ll miss you.”

I jerk my chin. “Figured you’d say that,” I murmur.

“I want updates when you get back, want to know you’re alive and shit, yeah?”

“Can you get me a passport?”

His lips curve up into a grin. “I can. By day after tomorrow.”

“Perfect.”

We spend the rest of the day planning my trip, my flight, my ID, and my fucking revenge. I am done. Fucking done. My father doesn’t get to breathe easy while I’m over here hiding like a bitch because he’s called a hit out on me.

I’m taking control of my life and my future. It’s been months and I’m done. I’m goddamn done.

MACI

Salvatore watchesme from across the room with a grin. He doesn’t say anything, but I can tell that he has something he wants to say to me. It’s been a few weeks since we’ve started actually getting to know each other, and as intimidating as I thought he was, I’ve come to discover that he’s really not.

He is kind and quiet, he’s thoughtful, and he will make someone an amazing husband. Whoever she may be.

Thankfully, there is no chemistry at all happening between us, so that woman will not be me. I don’t know why he’s single or how long he plans on being so, but I hope for his happiness’s sake that he finds someone soon.

“What?” I ask as I flop down on a chair, crossing my legs before I set the plate I’ve been holding down.

He chuckles, shaking his head. “Nothing,” he lies.

Arching my brow, I watch him for a moment and wait him out. “Something,” I drawl.

“It’s obvious you’re pregnant now, that’s all,” he says with a shrug.

Looking down at my stomach, I clear my throat before flicking my eyes down to my stomach and then back up to meet his. “It is?” I ask.

He nods. “Not your stomach, your food.”

My eyes widen and I look down at my plate. There are three graham crackers slathered with canned vanilla frosting. There are pickles, pickled asparagus, crackers, cheese, and salami on the plate as well. Then to top it off, I have some fruit snacks.

“What’s wrong with my food? I have meat, cheese, a veggie, and a dessert.”

He laughs and shakes his head. “Okay, Maci. You look like you’re feeling better, yeah?”

I hum. “I am,” I agree as I reach for a pickle and take a huge bite.

I moan as the crisp salty dill taste touches my tongue. It’s amazing. I completely understand why people love pickles now. They are out of this world. I half wonder what they would taste like with some of the vanilla frosting slathered on them, then decide Salvatore would seriously have something to say about that.

“Want to play cards tonight? I need some practice,” he asks.

Biting on my bottom lip, I nod. “Yeah, that sounds good. I could use the practice too.”

I don’t really need the practice. There’s no point at all to it, I don’t plan on playing cards ever in the casino. It’s not my thing, but it’s something to do and it means that Salvatore plans on staying in, at least until I fall asleep.

After I finish eating my snack, I stand and together we walk over to the small kitchen table where Salvatore starts to shuffle cards. I gather the “money”, which is just M&M’s chocolate candies that I’ve separated into colors.

“What color are you tonight?” he asks.

I look at the equal bowls of candy and decide that tonight I’m going to be the red ones. I place the bowl of red candy in front of me and the lime green in front of him. We get started and for the next several hours we play poker.

Eventually, Salvatore turns on some music. This is our typical Friday night and I’m not upset about it at all. This is calm and easy, a good evening for me, but I feel bad that Salvatore is stuck babysitting me.

“Do you leave after I go to bed?” I ask. I’ve wondered for months if he slips out into the night and visits women, or what he does.

He flicks his gaze up at me, his eyes wide and he smirks. “Why do you ask?”

I shrug a shoulder. “Just curious, I would seriously hate it if your life revolved around just me and work like it appears.”

He chuckles but doesn’t answer me right away. Instead, he leans back in his seat and tosses three candies in the middle. I do the same, unsure if I’m ready to show my hand, because it really blows.

“I have before, but you’re never left alone, if that’s what you’re worried about. There is always a guard somewhere near.”

My head pops up and my eyes widen. The thought hadn’t crossed my mind at all. I didn’t even think about their needing to be a guard. Now I wonder why I would need one and why he’s so insistent that I have one.

“I wasn’t, but now I am,” I admit. “Why do I need a guard?”

Salvatore presses his lips together and it makes me think that this is serious. He’s not joking or laughing, in fact, there is no humor in his voice at all as he watches me for a long moment. He clears his throat and calls the hand.

He wins.

But I don’t care. He can have all the candy, I know where to get more. What I can’t get is the information that he holds, because I have a feeling that he holds a lot.

“The hit on Tiziano,” he explains. “We’re working on getting that eradicated.”

“Okay…” I say slowly.

“If Tussio Bianchi knows that you’re pregnant with Tiziano’s baby, that could mean a hit out on you too. Something that none of us in the Zanetti or Ricci famiglia could live with if it happened.”

I think about his words for a moment. I knew that Gavino wanted me to stay low, to not go out in public, and only go to and from work for a reason. I knew that he didn’t want Tussio to know about the baby, but I didn’t even think it was because he thought he would kill me. I just imagined that it had to do with the annulment that he wanted.

There is a loud booming knock on the door that practically rattles the wall and my entire body jerks. Salvatore frowns. I watch as he rushes over to a drawer and pulls out a gun. “If I’m not back in a few seconds, hide in my closet and call Gavino.”

Without another word, he turns and rushes toward the knocking door. I sit in the chair, stock still, afraid to move. Pinching my eyes closed, I wait for gunfire, but it never comes. Instead, I hear a loud voice, it radiates throughout the entire condo and I recognize it immediately.