Total pages in book: 105
Estimated words: 101247 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 506(@200wpm)___ 405(@250wpm)___ 337(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 101247 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 506(@200wpm)___ 405(@250wpm)___ 337(@300wpm)
I never stopped to think that he didn’t do it, but like Mama said, I didn’t catch them together. It dawns on me that I was and am acting on hearsay. Suddenly, I feel so dumb.
“Mama, what if he did it? I don’t want to be that silly woman who lets her man whore around while she pretends it is not happening.”
She smiles. “You’ll never be that silly woman. No man will ever walk all over you, but marriage is about respect too. Other than this perfume incident, has he done anything to hurt you? Disrespect you?”
I shake my head slowly. He hasn’t. Not even while I was busy hurling insult after insult. Not even when I carelessly spent that big chunk of his money in one afternoon. He didn’t even slightly admonish me.
“When you have a man who cares for you and respects you, you must also respect him. And that starts by holding his words in high esteem. If he says he didn’t do it, then he didn’t do it. Perhaps wait until you catch him in the act. Maybe then you’ll have a better case.”
Did I hurt Valentino by disbelieving him? I don’t think he cares enough to be hurt by me. Still, I feel bad for everything that has happened and the hurt I felt every time he walked past me in the hallway without saying a word. A stray tear falls from my eyes.
My mother lovingly wipes it away.
I lean forward and impulsively kiss her cheek. “I love you, Mama.”
“I love you too, my darling daughter.”
She rises to her feet. “I’ll bring your dinner so you can eat and go to bed early. I’m sure you’ll want to return to your husband bright and early tomorrow.”
“Thank you, Mama.”
As soon as I open my eyes the next morning, I reach for my phone on the bedstand. It’s already nine, and I know Valentino must already be up and working, but I must talk to him. I could hardly sleep last night after my Mama’s talk. It was like the scales fell off my eyes and I saw how wrong I was. And I don’t want to carry on under this ugly black cloud of my own making for one second longer.
I cringe to think I even threw Thomas in Valentino’s face. My hypocrisy stinks, and I’m angry at myself for being so naïve and emotional. As much as I liked to castigate Valentino, he has never rubbed another woman in my face. When I brought up the issue of Vica, he reassured me of his loyalty and readily agreed to never associate with her again.
But me? What do I do?
Every time there’s a misunderstanding, I bring up Thomas. That is a kind of cheating too. Emotional cheating. I don’t have to sleep with Thomas to be unfaithful to Valentino. Even though in an ideal world Thomas would be the best man for me, I’m not living in an ideal world. I stood in Church and right there in front of God, I made some vows to him. And I intend to keep them. I want to be loyal to Valentino. He is my husband. For better or for worse. Nonna Fabiola’s words ring in my ears.
Everything is already perfect, you just can’t see it because you think it should be different.
My heart almost stops when I hear the ringing tone, and my fingers tighten around the phone. I nearly hang up when he picks it up.
“Hello.”
His husky voice washes over me, and I realize how much I miss him. His voice, his touch, his mouth, everything. I miss him so much, and I want him now.
“It’s Francesca,” I say stupidly.
“I know.”
“Can you send Vance to come pick me up?”
“Why?”
“I want to see you. There’s something we must discuss.”
“I’m busy, Francesca. I—”
“I have to see you, and it’s urgent. Okay?”
After a brief pause, he says, “Okay. Dutch will be with you shortly.”
“Thank you.” He hangs up immediately, and I understand. He’s upset, but not for long. I intend to make him forgive me.
He must. He just must.
Chapter Twenty-Four
VALENTINO
Hmmm… Francesca wants to see me urgently. I wonder what she wants as I hang up and turn towards Enzo. We received information that he was subtly asking around about where Franco’s new residence was.
“Tell me, what does Sal want with Franco?” I ask.
Enzo looks at me calmly. I know that look. I’ve seen it before. It is the look of men who have stopped thinking for themselves because they’ve brainwashed themselves into believing their entire worth and identity lay in their undying allegiance to whatever mafia family they have joined. I could tear him limb from limb and he will remain fiercely loyal to Sal.
“My situation is simple,” he says. “You’ll kill me while trying to make me talk, or I’ll be killed when I return because my boss will assume I’ve turned on them and become a liability. Either way, I’m a dead man walking so I’d rather die a man of honor.” The cords in his neck pulse even though his expression shows not the slightest fear of his impending death.