Becoming His Wife by Hayley Faiman
Chapter Twenty-Eight
TIZIANO
Once Maci is tucked in bed and sound asleep, I sneak out of her room and head into the kitchen. Salvatore is at the table, a beer in hand and a grin on his face. He lifts his beer, wiggling it in my direction.
Chuckling, I walk over to the fridge and grab one for myself as well. Making my way to the table, I sink down across from him and touch my bottle to his.
“I thought you already left,” I grumble.
He snorts. “Not yet. I stayed to talk to you about what was going on, about how to get Maci to work and home. But you were busy.”
I laugh, taking a pull from the bottle. “That I was, Sal.”
He goes on to explain everything that’s been happening lately here in New York. Then he explains how to get to his office, which roads to take, and what time to be gone. Then he leaves me the number of the guard that has been watching the place every time he has had to leave Maci alone here.
“She won’t be alone here, I’ll get everything done that I need to while she’s at work,” I say.
He arches a brow in question. “Do I want to know what it is that you’ll need to get done?” he asks.
Shrugging, I take another pull from my bottle and watch him for a long moment. “Probably not,” I admit. “But I don’t think that it’s out of line, considering.”
“Considering?” he asks.
I snort. “Considering my father tried to kill me. He forced an annulment against mine and my wife’s will, and he’s an all-around tyrant. Fuck him. He’s dead to me and soon he’ll be just that,” I snap.
Salvatore is quiet for a moment, then he nods his head a couple of times. “Good. You’ll be good for the Bianchi famiglia now.”
“Now?” I ask.
He watches me, then clears his throat. “You weren’t ready before you got married. You weren’t ready after you were married. It took your father stripping you of everything for you to get strong enough, confident enough, to take over.”
Confidence.
I don’t think I’ve even been told that I’m confident before. I had no reason to be confident. My mother walked away from me, my first serious relationship ended the same way. I have never experienced a woman staying in one place for long.
The only reason I chose the wife that I did was because she couldn’t leave me. Not because I felt anything for her at all, but so that I had complete control over her and our lives.
I needed to have control over something, over someone, but I didn’t realize that what I truly needed was to control my own life, not hers, not anyone else’s.
“I feel like I’m finally ready,” I admit.
He smiles, rising to his feet. He sets his beer down and slowly makes his way toward me. I watch for a moment, then when he brushes past me, he doesn’t stop, instead he keeps on going. Only when he is at the door does he stop and turn back to look at me.
“You are, Tiziano. You’re ready to move on from the past and so is Maci. It’s time you move forward, together.”
I’m not sure if I need to ask him any questions but I decide not to overthink it at all. I stay where I am for a long moment, sitting in the chair. I drink my beer and I stare out the window. I’m not sure what awaits me, but I know without a doubt that I will be in control from this moment on.
Taking on my father is what I need to do, not only for myself, but for my wife as well. I will never be controlled by another man the way that I was him.
Even partnering with Gavino causes me to feel hesitant. I know that he will be fair and that the contract we have will be upheld. It just causes me to feel leery because of everything that I have gone through with my father.
“Tiziano?” a sweet voice calls out.
Turning my head, I see Maci standing at the mouth of the hallway. Her arms are crossed against her chest and she watches me for a long moment. Her blonde hair is messy, her green eyes are bright as I watch her. I don’t break eye contact with her, too focused on how fucking gorgeous she looks in my button-down shirt from earlier.
“Come,” I mutter.
She does. Her feet shuffle toward me and she stops directly in front of me. Shifting in my seat, I clear my throat as I reach out to her. Gripping her hips with my hands, my fingers dig into her hips as I drag my eyes down her torso, stopping at her stomach.
Sliding my hands up her waist, I slide my palm over to her belly and cup her. She inhales a deep breath, then lets it out with a sigh. I close my eyes when I feel her fingers slide through my hair. She grips the strands, tugging my head back slightly as she looks down at me.
“Salvatore is gone, but I don’t imagine we’ll have to stay here more than a few days, maybe a week tops.”
“Are you going to tell me what’s going on?” she asks softly.
I want to say no, absolutely not, I won’t be telling you shit. But I don’t. This is as much her life, her business, as it is mine. However, she already knows quite a bit. What I don’t want to do is drown her with too much information, too much information that could cause her pain.
Telling her that I’m going to kill my father would no doubt give her stress that she doesn’t need. There’s no reason for that at all. So, I decide to give her as little information as possible.
“I’m going to deal with my father,” I explain. “Hopefully that will be done by end of week.”
“Then what?” she asks.
Reaching for the buttons of the shirt, I start to slowly slip them through the holes then slide it off of her shoulders and let it fall to the floor.
She’s bare for me, phenomenal in every way. Shifting forward, I keep my gaze focused on hers and touch my lips against her belly.
Her fingers gripping my hair tighter again. We watch one another, neither of us speaking. Licking her skin, I continue to watch and wonder what she’s thinking in this moment.
“What will happen to us, Tiziano?” she asks, her voice barely above a whisper.
Sitting back, I gather her in my arms and arrange her on my lap. She straddles my thighs, placing her knees on either side of mine against the bench.
“Then we will begin our lives, zuccherino.”
“What do our lives look like?” she breathes.
I think about being a smart-ass and asking her what she thought they looked like a few months ago. But I don’t. I decide this isn’t a moment for that, not right now. Instead, I clear my throat and I continue to look into her eyes.
“They look like you and the baby during the day, doing whatever you need to do. And I’ll do my duties as the boss of the Bianchi famiglia.”
“And this is what you want?” she asks me. “You’re not doing this for my benefit, are you?”
Shaking my head slowly, I slide one of my hands up the middle of her spine before tangling my fingers in her hair, only then do I tug her head down. Touching my lips to hers, I taste her sweetness. When I’ve thoroughly tasted her, only then do I gently tug her head away from mine.
“Nothing about this is solely for anyone’s benefit. Does it help me, yes it does. But it also is for the good of the Bianchi and Zanetti famiglia and for us, for our small little family here.”
“I just don’t want you to regret anything,” she whispers.
“Never, zuccherino. Never could I regret anything when it comes to you. The only thing I regret is not coming back here sooner.”
MACI
Stretching,I let out a moan as I push myself up to a seated position. I tug the sheet up to cover my chest and look to the right, expecting to see Tiziano asleep next to me, but he’s not there. Reaching over, I touch his side of the bed and I frown because it’s cool to the touch.
Slipping out of bed, I use the restroom and grab my silk dressing gown. Wrapping it around myself, I head out into the living room in search of my husband, ex-husband, annulled husband—I’m not quite sure how to think of him anymore. In my heart he’s my husband.
When I make my way into the living room, it’s empty. Stopping in the center of the room, I look around and listen. I realize that not only is this room empty, the condo is completely quiet. There is absolutely no sound anywhere at all.
My heart starts to race. It slams in my chest, over and over again, threatening to come completely out of my chest and land on the floor at my feet.
He’s gone.
He was here for just hours and he’s already gone.
I try to walk over to a chair, and on extremely shaky legs, I eventually make my way to the chair just before my legs give out and I sink down on the cushion. Burying my face in my hands, I try really hard not to, but I fail—I cry.
I don’t know if his father found him or maybe he just needed to be with me one last time, but he’s gone now and I’m all alone.
That is, until I hear some keys in the door. I gasp, looking over I watch as the door opens and then Tiziano walks through. Rising to my feet, I hurry over to him and stop short of running into his body completely.
He tips his chin down and looks into my eyes. I must look like a disheveled, frantic mess. He lifts his hand, cupping one of my cheeks. His gaze connects to mine and he focuses on me for a long moment before he moves his other hand.
Sliding my gaze to the side, I see a white bag dangling from his fingers. “Breakfast,” he rasps.
I open my mouth, but he doesn’t let me respond. Instead, he dips his chin and touches his mouth to mine.
“Zuccherino,” he mutters. “I am not going anywhere. You thought I had left you, didn’t you?”
Licking my lips, I taste the salt from my tears and nod my head. “I didn’t mean to,” I whisper.
He clears his throat, his mouth still pressed against mine. “I understand. I would have felt the same way. Let’s get you fed. We’ll talk.”
Nodding, I take a step back from him and turn to walk toward the kitchen table. Sinking down in the chair, I turn and watch as he makes his way toward me. His eyes are focused on mine as he sets the bag in the middle of the table.
“Go ahead, I hope you like it.”
Reaching for the handles of the bag, I open it and frown. It’s two small boxes, I have no idea what’s in them. Reaching for the boxes, I take them out of the bag and lift the lid.
“Cornetto con crema,” I whisper.
“Cornetto con crema.”
“You remembered.”
There is a moment of silence where we stare at one another for a little too long, but I can’t look away and he doesn’t. Perhaps we’re both remembering the first breakfast we ate together in Italy.
There are cream filled croissants, fresh fruit, and a cup of yogurt in the box. It looks almost exactly like that morning. Licking my lips, I can almost taste the sugary goodness, but I don’t reach for it yet.
“I remembered, because it was the first moment in my life that I was truly happy. The first moment that I could see a future instead of a bleak nothingness.”
“Tiziano,” I breathe.
He shrugs a shoulder as if it means nothing to him, but I know that it’s everything. The fact that he remembered, the fact that with me he doesn’t see nothingness anymore. It means everything to me.
“I thought my future was nothingness too,” I admit.
He nods his head once, his eyes finding mine. “I know, Maci. I believe it’s why we will have a beautiful life. We will both work hard to ensure that there will never be nothingness in our lives.”
This man. Every moment I spend with him, I fall deeper and deeper into him. I don’t know if it’s love yet, but I definitely feel something huge building inside of me.
