Page 54 of Descent into Madness

I shrug helplessly. “All I’ve seen are men who cared more about their happiness than those around them. Even when I thought my parents had a loving, amazing marriage, my father still put his pleasure before my mother’s. I never thought I would be lucky enough to have someone who would put my pleasure before theirs.”

The finger under my chin runs down my neck to grip me tight. “I believe I already explained I am more selfish than all those men combined. Making you happy is my pleasure. You happy is…” He shakes his head. “Nothing feels as good as when you’re happy and touch me.”

How could I not be head over heels in love with my husband when he says things like that?

Life feels so good, I’m only slightly sad when Manuel warns me as we lay wrapped up in each other that he needs to leave the next day. He’s not sure how long it will take although it’s likely to be a few days.

“Thank you for telling me. I hate knowing, but I hate waking up without warning to you gone more.” I run a hand over his chest.

“Why is that?”

I shrug in embarrassment. “Things happen. Planes crash, you’re not exactly in the safest…” Sighing, I give in. “My mom, the last miscarriage that sent her into the hospital happened in the middle of the night while I was sleeping. When I woke up to find her gone and my nonna there…it was a surprise to say the least. I knew something was wrong. My nonna hated my mom, so she was glad my mom was gone. She went on and on about how my mom wasn’t coming home. I was scared. Especially when I didn’t get to see her in the hospital. Finally, she called me a few days later. She promised she would call me again, but she never did. My father came home and told me she’d be gone for a while. No other explanation.”

His sigh is heavy. “I won’t leave you again without telling you goodbye. I promise.”

We spend the morning locked in our room until the moment he leaves.

* * *

Nicolette

He keeps his promise. Every day, he calls to talk to the girls, then he calls again before I go to bed, and we talk. Sometimes it’s no more than a few minutes, other times it’s hours and the hottest phone sex ever.

When my phone rings, I’m washing my face, getting ready for bed. I assume it’s Manuel and run for the phone. “Hello?”

“Nicolette.” My blood runs cold. “How like you not to reach out to offer your condolences on the passing of my mother.”

An odd relief hits me. She’s calling me to inform me of her mother’s death. Ebba Pasio couldn’t stand me. Why would Helena contact me herself? All of those things are running through my head. “I’m so sorry, Helena. No. I didn’t care for the woman, but I know you two were very close, and I’m sorry—”

“Fuck your sorry when you aren’t!” The venom is fierce enough I pull the phone away from my ear.

Closing my eyes, I take a deep breath, intent on apologizing again. Before I can, she speaks. “It means nothing. You hated her. If you weren’t such a stuck-up brat, you would have known her for the amazing person she is—was. I didn’t want to make this call, but you made it easier. My father is being a complete fucker and not giving her the funeral she deserves. Brandon won’t give me anything either. Everyone is still talking about how your husband will give you anything, you only have to ask. I’m not asking you. To give my mother the best, I need fifty thousand dollars from you.”

“Fifty thousand dollars?!” I’m shocked by her demand.

“Please! You get twenty thousand a month for fun. Your mother made sure everyone knew. I always thought Manuel Rodriguez was terrifying. Then again, close your eyes and think of the money. Isn’t that how it goes?” The words are bitter.

The sting of her bitterness reminds me of her own marriage. Her father was a cruel man who didn’t care what she wanted. He was in need of money, so he married her to a powerful capo almost twenty years older than her. The money isn’t the point, I have it. With the money Luca gave me, it wouldn’t even be missed. I’m trying to figure out how to send it to her. “Helena, I—”

“Don’t make me have a conversation with my father about the apricot jelly you fed Eddie.” It’s a threat. “I smelled the cyanide in it. Why do you think it went missing from Eddie’s place? I wasn’t going to take the chance anyone else would come across it and die too.”

Ice slides down my spine. This is how she thought she could demand fifty thousand. It confirmed my every fear. I’d wondered about the remark she made to me at Eddie’s funeral.

For weeks after the funeral, I waited in terror for the other shoe to drop. Every phone call, every time my father called for me, I wondered if it was about Eddie. I don’t know why but since she didn’t say another word, I thought I was safe.

“I felt bad about father marrying you to Eddie. I understand why you did what you did. Hell, I'm even kind of impressed with you. I never thought you had it in you. So sweet. So timid. The perfect little mafia princess…” She trails off.

“I’ll get it. I’ll get you the money.” I rush to stop her from talking. Desperate to shut her up. Where is she? Could someone overhear her? Did she tell anyone else?

“That’s a good girl. I’ll text you my bank info,” she says before ending the call.

My head goes down on the bed. Oh god, oh my fucking god. I squeeze my eyes close. It’s fine. Everything is going to be just fine. I’ll get her the money and she’ll go away.

Only I can’t swallow past the lump in my throat. My father didn’t hide his business discussions in our home. I will never forget his decree of not giving a mouse a cookie. It was from a children’s book. Basically by giving in once, the mouse is going to keep coming back for more.

No. This is a one-time thing. I understand why she’s asking. Although, fifty thousand for a funeral sounds like a lot. Then I wince when I remember the flowers at my wedding were twice the amount. It’s fine. I have the money. Even if she keeps coming back, as long as it’s not more than the million, I’ll give it to her.

Because I can’t tell Manuel. My stomach churns, remembering his repeated demand for me to be honest with him. I think he could forgive me, but I don’t want to take the chance.

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