Waking up with Roisin in my arms, I know beyond a shadow of a doubt that I love this woman.
And I need to divorce her as soon as possible.
What Roisin and I did last night wasn’t okay.
And that makes it dangerous, not only for her, but for me.
I’m not built to have a wife. Not like my brothers and sister. I’m not like them.
My role is to make sure everyone is safe. That they have the lives they want, that they’re happy and fulfilled.
And Roisin isn’t safe if she’s attached to me.
Because I’ve already fucked it up for her. I’ve already taken away her option to choose everything she wants.
Clearly.
She hates me. I know she does. She was only able to have sex with me like we did if she was pretending, and that hurts like hell.
I hate myself for taking the chance when I saw it.
When she told me she wanted me to pretend, it fucking killed me.
But I did it anyway.
I waited until she fell asleep to tell her that it wasn’t pretend for me. That it was real.
That everything we did, was something I wanted.
And something that I took from her.
I don’t have a real chance with Roisin, because even though she’s good at pretending, I know she hates me.
How could she not, after everything I’ve done?
Quietly, I get up out of the bed. I close the door to the bathroom, quietly getting into the shower. I don’t want to scrub Roisin off of me, but I need to get myself together.
I need to figure out what the fuck to do.
When I get out, my phone is lit up. I open it, noting that there’s an email from what looks like a spam account. I almost don’t open it, until another one comes in right after from the same address.
Cautiously, hoping that every technological advance I’ve done on my phone works and that I don’t have to worry about a virus coming through, I open the email.
Give me the fucking girl.
There’s nothing else. Not in the first email.
The second one, however, makes my heart stop.
It’s a picture of Roisin and me. It’s from the train station on the way to Italy, but it’s recent enough that it makes my nerves go into overdrive.
It’s also security camera footage. Meaning they either own the camera, or they hacked it, and either way, it sends a clear message.
Whoever the fuck this is, they can follow us. Monitor us.
And we have no idea how.
A third email pops up, and I click on it instantly. It’s a coordinate, and when I click on it, it brings me to an address.
In Vienna.
Ice creeps down my spine.
Vienna is somewhat of a no-man’s land when it comes to my world. It’s a semi-neutral place, with its own families that run the crime scene, but it’s an uneasy truce that keeps a balance. It’s where a lot of the Eastern European families and the rest of us can find some common ground, because the city’s own gangs are protective of the space, to the point where they don’t allow any unsanctioned business.
Which means that whoever this is, they either know that…
Or they’re to blame.
I fire off a quick text to Sal, just asking him who we know in Vienna. He quickly tries to video chat me, and I ignore the call.
Roisin is still asleep.
I can’t wake her.
The second I do, the illusion will be over.
We need to stay together, for this. For now. Because the safety she has as my wife will buy her some time.
But after that?
I have to find a way to divorce her. I love her.
I love her far too much to shackle her to me for the rest of her life.
Sal calls me again, and this time, I take it. I’m walking around outside, pacing, as the nice Italian couple who owns the place cooks us breakfast. They made a big deal about us being newlyweds, a lie that flowed very easily when we checked in last night.
A lie that tastes like ash now.
“We don’t know anyone in Vienna. What the fuck are you doing?” he barks.
“None of your business.”
I can practically feel Sal’s irritation. “Marco…”
“Who could possibly know anyone in Vienna?”
Sal huffs out a breath. “I don’t know, man. I really fuckin’ don’t.”
“I need to know.”
“Because of your new girl?”
I freeze.
Seemingly sensing my reaction, Sal makes a noise. “You’re trying to fix her life for her.”
“I’m not.”
“Liam told on you.”
Fucking Liam. “I’m fine, Sal.”
“It wouldn’t fucking kill you to ask for help, goddamnit.”
I pause.
Sal almost never curses at me.
He heaves a breath on the phone. “You’re doing too much, man. You’re all over the fucking place. And I know why you did it for us, I really do. But if you want to help your girl, you’re going to need help yourself. You can’t watch out for her without someone watching out for you. Trust me, I know.”
I snort. “Do you?”
“Yeah, motherfucker. I had you watching out for me the whole time, remember?”
My heart pulses.
“All I’m saying,” Sal continues, “is that you have done this for all of us. Me. Elio. Dino. You kind of helped Elio and Caterina, anyway, but I wouldn’t say that you helped her.”
“No,” I say hoarsely. “I fucked that one up.”
“You got lucky on that one. But it’s time for us to help you, Marco. You’ve done enough on your own. You love this girl, right?”
“Woman,” I correct him. “Roisin is more than that. She’s my…”
I hesitate.
There are things that you tell people, and you can’t un-tell them. Truth that once you put it out there in the world, you make it real.
The fact that Roisin is my wife?
I want it to be real. But as of right now, it isn’t. Sure, we got married, but her question from the night before still slithers into my brain.
Pretend.
“Roisin is important to me,” I end up saying, finishing on a really fucking lame note.
Sal hesitates, clearly not buying it. “Whatever, fine. Roisin is important to you. And you’re going to need us. She’s being framed, right?”
“Elio told you, didn’t he,” I grumble.
“I’m literally his eyes and ears out here in the world, bro. He didn’t have to tell me.”
For one second, I think of the security footage. Could Sal have betrayed me?
No.
He wouldn’t.
He’s family.
And family doesn’t do that shit.
“Anyway. Okay. I’ve got some eyes on the Russians, because with Stassi and Liam, they’re being shady as fuck. But I have the feeling this goes deeper, man.”
My senses hone in on Sal, and I step forward. I don’t think anyone at the inn is listening, but just in case, I walk toward the road, past where our car is parked, and glance around.
“What are you saying?”
I can practically hear Sal’s shrug. “I’m not sure. I just feel like this is deep. Old. Something that stinks of family secrets and things that we should have left buried.”
“I still don’t get where you’re coming from.”
“Just something that dad said, a really long time ago. He said that nothing brings up old fucking baggage like when you’ve packed all your shit neatly.”
I snort. “And that makes you think this is old?”
“We dug into Dino’s past, Marco. We dug into it, and we ripped open a big fucking scab, and we didn’t do that easily. He and Marisol are happy, right, but still… there has to be some kind of consequence for bringing the Drakos name back to life.”
I pause.
“There wasn’t anything to bring back. His cousin—”
“Seems to be perfectly happy. Dino’s dad is dead. The twin is dead. But that shit’s all too neat for me.”
I open my mouth to refute him, but I pause.
Sal’s instincts are good. More than good. Better than mine.
Instead of telling him to fuck off, I nod. “Okay. If you think there’s something, there’s something.”
Sal’s voice is full of disbelief. “Really?”
“Really.”
“Fuck, okay. I’m going to look into it. You just keep low with your girl, okay? I’ve got you.”
Hearing my little brother reassure me with such confidence is…
Well.
Humbling, I guess.
But still, it’s nice.
I take a deep breath. “Sal…I appreciate that.”
“Anything for you, brother,” he says roughly. “Now, before I get too fucking sappy on you—”
I don’t hear the end of that sentence.
In a second, everything changes.
I see the flash first, for some reason. The edge of my vision seems to burst, and I have the absolutely absurd thought that I’ve been hit by lightning. Then, however, I realize that there’s no fucking lightning.
Because with the sound of the explosion comes the shock wave.
My phone flies out of my hand, and my body is thrown backward. I’m scrambling to stand, my ears are ringing, and I feel something hit my back, the pain altered by the realization that my back is hot as fuck.
Holy shit.
What fucking exploded?
Then, I realize that it’s the inn.
I turn, and see that the entire west side of it is blown open. There’s a gaping hole there, in the opposite corner from where Roisin and I were staying.
Roisin.
I stagger to my feet, trying to move forward. The innkeeper and his wife emerge, coughing, and I push past them.
Roisin is in the fucking burning building.
And I don’t have a single thought in my head, except fucking finding her.
The site of the explosion is on fire now. Thick smoke fills the bottom floor, and I know that this is probably not structurally sound.
But I don’t care.
I stumble up the stairs, my fingers reaching for the doorknob before I get up there. I move into the room, gasping.
Roisin.
The room is empty.
The bed is empty.
I rip it apart.
Everything is overturned. Everything is ripped apart. It takes me a solid five minutes, and the heat of the fire, before I realize something.
Roisin isn’t here.
The explosion was a distraction.
I fucking fell for it.
And she’s gone.
