Page 126 of Rosetti Family New York
The guilt digs deeper than anything has a right to. I was ready to make her suffer. Instead, she got under my skin. Instead, she's become the only thing that matters, and now I am the one suffering.
I'm letting her distract me. I'm letting her blind me.
She's a punishment I should never have let myself love, but here I am, loving her more with each breath she takes.
I should give her space, give her the distance to recover from her childhood, to be her own person and not just another man’s accessory. She needs it, deserves it. I will give her the space. Even if it kills me.
24
Besiana
There are no dreams and no darkness, just the slow, silent drift into morning. I'm alone in the bed, but he's here, Dom, leaning against the window with his eyes locked on me. He looks like an avenging angel in this cold, sterile room. I wrap the sheets tight around me, waiting for him to say something, anything.
When he tells me to get up, his voice is flat. "We missed breakfast. Dress warm."
No pet names. No cara, or Besa. Nothing soft. No sign of the man who held me last night. I try to read him, but his expression is a wall.
I should be glad he hasn’t disappeared on me again, like most other mornings. Instead, there's a knot in my chest. I sit up and pull the blanket around me, remembering the shirt he tucked around my shoulders while I sobbed. How embarrassing. I wish I hadn’t cried like that, like a child. I wish I knew what he was thinking now.
"Are you mad at me?" It slips out, the pathetic whimper of it, before I can swallow the words.
His gaze flicks to me, sharp and bright. "No."
I wait for more, for anything. I don't get it. When he says, "Dress," it sounds like an order, but a part of me wishes it were an invitation. He’s got the body of a Roman statue and the personality of one, too. He’s still watching me when he says, "I'll be downstairs," then turns away and leaves the door open behind him.
I dress quickly, struggling with the clasp on my bra, my fingers as clumsy as my thoughts. Why didn’t he stay to watch me dress? I know he likes that. I get the feeling this whole thing is a game of pretend, but I'm not very good at playing. I look in the mirror. I look small. Out of place. Like a little lost bird. Like my mother used to say when I followed my father from room to room, trailing him like a shadow.
I wish I hadn’t told Dom everything.
He's in the kitchen when I come down, telling the maid to prepare breakfast. The maid nods and then disappears behind the big white doors.
"The others are out for the day," he says, pulling a chair for me.
The table is heavy and polished, set for more people than we’ll ever have. I don’t think I’ll get used to that, the cold elegance of this house, the way every room echoes like an empty hall.
"So it’s just us?" My voice sounds unsure.
"And the staff." He takes the seat across from me, looks at his phone, then sets it face down on the table. "It’s better this way. Easier."
"For what?"
"Breakfast." His eyes catch mine, and he adds, "You aren’t ready for them yet." I know he means his family, and I can't argue with that. His brothers. The women. The noise and the laughter would all be too much for me today.
I’m relieved and lonely all at once. "Is this your way of letting me down easy?" I try to make it sound like a joke. He doesn’t answer.
The maid brings a tray, and I force myself to eat. Pancakes and bacon. Strong, hot coffee. I make little maps in the syrup with my fork. Each bite sticks in my throat.
Dom watches me, quiet and calculating. "We’re going to the lab today," he says finally.
"We?"
"You and me. I have business there, and I’m not leaving you alone." He says it like a fact. No emotion. Not yet.
My stomach twists. "I’ll be safe if I stay here."
"No." He pours himself another coffee. " I can’t trust you not to run off on another suicide mission. Besides, I want to show you the lab."
My breath hitches. He doesn’t know I’ve already been there, already seen the inside and spoken to Dr Clara Voss. He doesn’t know that I was the one who got the location of the ixaphorine out of the chemist and passed it on to Baba. That I’m to blame for the loss and the delays.
