Mafia Casanova - M. Robinson Page 0,55

again. He must have noticed the shift in my demeanor because his eyes finally connected with mine.

Right when I was standing in front of him, he slipped his fingers through the knot of my robe, untying it. Ever so slowly opening the silk, similar to unwrapping a present.

Was I his gift?

Or his nightmare?

My eyes never wavered from Tristian’s as he began skimming his fingers along my collarbones to the sides of my breasts and over to my beating heart. He lingered there for a moment, continuing to slide them down the center of my ribcage until placing his entire hand over my pussy.

I sucked in a breath.

“Do you have any idea what I could do to you?”

Before I could respond, he leaned forward, close to my lips. Wrapping his arms around my waist. He held onto me for dear life, so tight, so hard, so strong.

So fucking unnerving.

My heart pounded harder against my chest.

Beat.

Beat.

Beat.

All the blood bled from my body, and my stomach dropped to the ground when I felt cool metal against my chest.

Not just my chest.

Over my heart.

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

“You either die a hero or you live long enough to see yourself become the villain.” —Dark Knight

Eden

“Oh my God, Tristian. What are you doing?” I jerked back. “Where did you even get that? Why do you have a gun, and why do you have it pointed at me?”

“What, Red? You scared now?”

“What are you saying? What the hell are you doing?”

“I’m just trying to see if I could make you love me.”

His whiskey breath assaulted my senses. I knew it. He had been drinking before he got home. “You’ve been drinking.”

“You drive me to drink.”

“Tristian, you don’t know what you’re doing. How drunk are you?”

“Enough to where I’m finally seeing you the way I need to.”

“Put the gun down. I’m your wife. Do you hear me? I’m your wife, Tristian.”

“You’re my wife when it’s convenient for you.”

Tears flooded my eyes, and I instinctively stepped back, but he gripped onto my hair from the nape of my neck, roughly yanking it back. It felt like he was trying to tear my hair out. My eyes widened, and I would have sworn my heart stopped.

“Why are you doing this?” I asked, barely above a whisper, though a huge part of me already knew the answer.

“I told you. I’m trying to make you love me.”

“I do love you.”

“LIES!” he shouted, making me jump from the sharp tone in his voice.

“You’re scaring me. Please put the gun away, and we can talk. Your son is in this house. He’s here right now. Don’t do this.”

His eye glazed over, and he let me go.

One by one, I took in everything he wanted me to see, not knowing what I wanted to focus on more. Hours seemed to pass us by, our past colliding with our present and destroying our future.

Nothing could have prepared me for this.

Not even me.

Or Romeo.

I stumbled on my footing, desperately trying to catch my bearings. My body quivered, creating goosebumps all over my flesh.

I couldn’t breathe.

I couldn’t fucking breathe.

The walls were caving in on me.

The room was spinning faster and faster, harder and harder, around and around, over and over with no end in sight. My whole world tilting on the verge of crashing. Abolishing everything in our path. I couldn’t stop any of it. My emotions went from one to the other, feeling empty.

Terrified.

Ashamed.

Guilty.

I gazed up at him with pleading eyes and a devastated expression, but he backed away with caution. I didn’t know if it was for my protection or his. As his eyes searched for mine, for a few moments he had returned to me.

He was Tristian again.

My Tristian.

That was the first time I’d seen him all night.

It was the first time I’d seen him since I told him the truth in his office.

It was the first time in what felt like an eternity that I wanted to run to him, seek shelter in his arms, in his embrace, in his heart beating in the same symmetry against mine. I wanted to show him how much I loved him.

I still loved him, right?

After all this…

What he’d done.

What I’d done.

How sorry I was, hoping he’d understand. I could get through to him. Feel him as my husband, who used to be my very best friend. He meant everything to me. However, nothing could have saved me from this type of darkness he inflicted in my heart and soul.

I was frustrated.

Bewildered.

Not knowing what to do or how to do