Page 166 of Mafia and Gold Digger

Jesus, as I list it all, I realize how much I’ve fucked up over and over again.

She stays quiet.

“Do you, um, need me to be sorry for keying Ronnie’s car as well?”

“No, you don’t have to be sorry about that,” she clips in a tone that I can’t quite identify.

“Okay, good, because I would find it hard to be truly sorry for that after how he dumped you in such a cowardly way.” I take her hand. “Em, I’m sorry I mess up a lot. But I need you, and I’ll do whatever it takes to persuade you of that.” I take a deep breath. “A king on a chessboard is nothing without his queen. But with his queen by his side, he can achieve anything he wants,including love.” I gulp down another breath. “By the way, I didn’t get that from a book. I got it from here.” I tap on the left side of my chest.

She doesn’t react, and I can feel dread sinking through my stomach. Is it too little, too late?

“Em, I know I’ve got a long way to go to be perfect for you, but there’s no one I want more than you and our family. If it takes me buying a whole damn boutique or even a whole fucking shopping mall to show you I’m serious about this, then so be it. But I need you to hear me when I tell you this. You and me, Em, we’re real. And there’s nowhere you can go that I won’t find you. There’s no place you can run that I won’t follow. You, Emerald Fiorelli, are worth everything and more to me just the way you are.”

My thumb brushes away the tear that trickles from the corner of her eye.

But I press on. Even though my skin itches and I feel exposed and vulnerable. Even though my whole entire body is tense as if I’m pulling a limb from it. I push on because she needs to know this. “Em, I’m here for you. I should have been there for you for the baby news, for Ronnie’s death, for you being locked up in jail.” I pause before continuing. “I was an asshole about a lot of things, probably more than I care to admit. I’m still a fucking asshole. But I wasn’t there for you, and I won’t ever be sorry enough.” I grasp her face a little tighter, trying to show her how much this means to me. How muchshemeans to me.

“Saint—”

“Not done yet, Em.” She huffs, and the corner of my lip twitches for a moment. These words feel like acid in my throat. Showingweakness, admitting I was wrong? It goes against everything I’ve learned over the years. But for Emerald, I’ll do anything. I’d even rip open my chest and show her the shriveled and broken parts of me that no one else can see. “I’m sorry I’m not a better man. I’m sorry I didn’t chase after you like I should have done when you stormed out of the house. I’m sorry you’ll have to help me understand all this emotional stuff. I’m sorry I’m probably getting this all wrong too.But I’m not sorry I’m in love with you.And if you need me to shout out loud to the whole world that I’m in love with you,I’ll do it. Just…will you please come back home with me?”

“Can I talk now?” she asks.

“Depends.”

“On?”

“Are you coming back with me, Em?”

The silence beats between us. “It’s not that simple, Saint.” She looks away. “I need time… And a shower and clean clothes.”

My eyes close, and I nod, stepping back from her and letting my hand fall from her cheek. I walk around to the driver’s side of the car and slip in without another word.

Of course, I’m too late.

I shoot her a glance as she buckles up. The tension is thick in the car as I try my hardest to think of a way to get her to stay. To give me another chance.

But by the time the house looms before us, Emerald still hasn’t said another word.

I park the car and look at her. I need her to realize I’m being as honest, open, and raw as I can be. “Please just stay the night, Em. And if you decide you need to leave, do it in the morning. It’s dark out now. You can stay in that other room if you need to. Just…stay.Please.”

Wordlessly, she exits the car and moves into the house, leaving me staring after her.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

I know she still doesn’t believe me.

And I don’t know what else I can do.

I bailed her out of jail, bought a multi-million-dollar business to get charges dropped, even went to the library and read sappy romance novels, but none of it is enough to get her to forgive me.

I’ve totally blown it.

And it’s all my own fucking fault.

My fault for thinking that I could carry on being the same cold, aloof Saint Veneti. For thinking that I could keep just throwing her scraps of affection without really letting her into my heart.

I follow her, trying to rack my brain for how to fix this. How to get her to understand that she’s all I need and want.

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