The Vatican - M.E. Clayton Page 0,44

I gathered the courage to push my feelings aside and do the right thing. “I don’t hate you guys,” I said. “I’m hurt and saddened, but those feelings won’t be forever. I’ll heal. I’ll move on.” Aunt Robbie started crying harder and Uncle Ciro looked broken. “I’ll also honor my marriage. I won’t seek a divorce and I’ll give Benetti the wife he’s deserving of and the children that are expected of him. I won’t let this tear apart my family and I won’t let this…steal my happiness. It just might take some time.”

And then, Uncle Luca said the one thing none of us would have ever expected. “I’ll support an annulment, if that is what you wish, Luca.” Then he pointedly nodded towards the marks on my neck. “Or a divorce if that is what’s needed.”

Before I could agree or disagree, Francisco was standing in front of me, his arms wrapped around me from behind him. “Over my dead body will I allow her to divorce me,” he seethed. “I will see everyone burn in Hell before I let you guys come between me and my wife.”

Everyone froze.

Everyone except me.

I reached up and pulled on his suit jacket until he was facing me. He looked positively lethal as he said, “They’ll have to kill me before I let you go, Luca.”

I couldn’t speak. He sounded like I’d always hoped my husband would sound when faced with the choice. “Let’s go home, yeah?” I whispered.

He shook his head. “Tell them.”

I stepped around him and addressed Uncle Luca’s offer. “That won’t be necessary, Uncle Luca. Just…give me time to figure it out. That’s all I need. Can you do that?”

He gave me a terse nod. “Whatever you need.”

And what I needed most right now was to be with my husband, so we left.

Chapter 20

Francisco~

The following couple of weeks had calmed considerably. Ria had gone back to work for Uncle Sal, and I made sure to spend every night inside her in one way or the other.

When she had made the comment that she’d never be able to love me freely and completely, it had felt as if she had reached into my chest and tore out my still-beating heart. She might come to love me one day, but I’d been robbed just as she had been. My wife might love me one day, but it’d be because she was excepted to, just like she believed the same of me.

And it fucking sucked.

The only solace to be found was when I had her in my arms. The sex was passionate, frantic, and insane. We couldn’t get enough of each other, and even when she was sore and in pain, she didn’t let up. The more it hurt, the more she demanded. But I suppose pain was an easier emotion to deal with than despair.

And, regardless of whether she believed me or not, I never stopped telling her I loved her when the words danced on my tongue. I didn’t hold back, but I didn’t ask for something she wasn’t ready to give either. I could wait. After all, we were in this for life.

Then there were her daily meetings with my father. He called on her every single day, and they were working their shit out. She still treated everyone rather coolly, but she was coming around. A couple of times I caught her crying after a meeting with my dad, but I let her be. Ria had to sort out her feelings for herself. None of us could do that for her.

I walked into the house and I heard voices coming from the game room. When I walked in, Cira was sitting on top of the pool table, Mattia was lounging on the love seat, and my wife was sitting on one of the bar stools. They each had a drink in their hands.

“Party?” Mattia smiled at me, while my sister side-eyed me. Ria just smirked. I walked over to her, and after placing a kiss on her forehead, I grabbed her glass and drank what was left of it. If my sister was here, I was going to need it.

“I didn’t realize you were the flashy type,” Cira said, nodding towards my hand with the glass in it.

“Hi, Cira,” I drawled out. “It’s good to see you. How have you been?”

She didn’t let up. But then, she was evil. “Since when do Benetti men wear wedding rings?”

Cira wasn’t wrong. None of the Benetti men from the Made Men on up