Becoming the Street Boss - Hayley Faiman Page 0,97

bit nervous to hear this. “It was to make you laugh like you did with your friends in the café, uninhibitedly. I did it once, in prison when you came to visit me, before I fucked up over and over.”

She reaches for me, her hand cupping my jaw. “You will do it again, Massimo. If there was ever a man who could do what he was determined to do, it’s you. I planned on leaving you tonight, I even have a bag packed, and yet, here I am.”

My arms tighten around her. “Never,” I rasp. “I wouldn’t let you.”

She smiles at me sadly, knowing that I probably would if she fought me hard enough… reluctantly.

“You make me want to stay, Massimo. I don’t know why and I probably should run, but this, with you, it makes me want us to work.”

“We will,” I state.

Pippa’s smile is sad, but she tries. It’s obvious she thinks I’m going to fuck up, royally and I have no doubt that I will. But I’m serious when I say that I’m going to truly try with her this time. I want a family, I want her as my wife, and I want the life that we never had the chance to create.

“Okay,” she sighs before she lays her head down on my shoulder.

I wrap my arms around her, holding her to my chest, listening to her breathing slow and steady as she falls asleep in my arms. I curse beneath my breath, hating that she’s hooked on wine and painkillers, knowing that part of that is because she’s suffered through her recovery alone.

Running my fingers through her hair, I stare at the ceiling. It’s darker in here than I remember, shifting my eyes to the side, I blink at the windows. Where once it was open to the view of the city lights and the water of the East River, it’s now covered in black shutters.

Clenching my jaw, I know the reason why, it’s not just for aesthetic appeal. The hard truth is that fucking guard watched my wife, stalked her and made her feel unsafe for fuck knows how long.

She rolls over onto her back and I look down at her naked body lying next to me. She’s absolutely stunning, a bit too thin, but still so fucking beautiful. My eyes skirt down until they reach her shoulder.

I take in the scar from the bullet to her shoulder. It’s red and angry still, not completely healed. Shifting my gaze down, I find the spot that I felt with my hand. Her skin is misshapen with puckering and a dip in the middle that can only be fixed with plastic surgery. Her gut shot.

Fuck.

Forcing myself, I move my eyes down to her thigh where I know her third wound is located. It’s the same as her shoulder, just scarred, red and angry.

The man who did this has not been brought to justice. In fact, nobody knows who did it, he’s never come forward, there hasn’t even been a whisper about who it could be out on the streets.

I’ve already made a promise to myself to find the fuck and mete out justice. Seeing the evidence of my wife’s body, it’s not just a promise, it is a vow.

I will find him, if it takes every fucking ounce of my energy and resources, he will be found and I will be torturing the man who dared to touch what’s mine.

Chapter Thirty-Two

MASSIMO

Slipping out of bed around four in the morning, I head downstairs toward my office. Pippa changed everything about my house, except my office. Sinking down in my chair, wearing nothing but a pair of boxer briefs, I let out a sigh as I reach for my computer and power it on.

Spinning in my chair, I look around the room, it feels comfortable—like home. I may have to get used to the rest of the house, and I will, but at least in here it’s the same. It’s comfortable.

Opening my email, a chill slides up my spine as I remember the email from the unknown address that I received five years ago with attached pictures of me killing the dry cleaner’s wife. Nothing ever became of them, at least not that I know of, since I went to prison shortly after all of that.

I have thousands of accumulated emails, but I have no doubt that whoever this person is, they’ve sent me more emails. You don’t just send a warning message like that and not back