Be With Me, page 23
part #1 of House of Ferraro Series
“And it will all be for nothing if you screw up these last few weeks.”
The car slowed to a stop outside the campaign offices.
Jenny’s gaze assessed me coldly, as if she were seeing me for the first time. “You have three days to end it. After that, I’ll do whatever it takes to protect this campaign.”
Then, with a shake of her head, she opened the door and stepped out—leaving me behind. Shattered.
CHAPTER 38
ROM
The second crystal tumbler smashed against the window, and shards rained down onto the hardwood floor. “That son of a bitch!”
Dad didn’t lose his temper easily, but the disaster at the restaurant had pushed him over the edge. The drive back to the penthouse had been the tensest fucking car ride of my life.
“I’ll call the staff to clean this up,” Mother said, eyeing the broken glass.
“Not now,” Dad barked. “You can handle a little mess, Vita.”
Jesus. He was snapping at her. That’s how you knew it was bad.
I walked over to the bar and splashed some whiskey into the last surviving tumbler. I needed a fucking drink. Rage still simmered beneath my skin at the veiled threat against Mia. But more than anything, I was furious with myself. I hadn’t been able to stop it. Hadn’t been able to defend her.
The only comfort was knowing I’d never let my father touch a hair on her head. I didn’t care what it took. If I had to play her personal bodyguard, so be it.
He. Would. Not. Hurt. Her.
“How did we let it come to this?” Dad seethed. “How is he still leading in the polls? We’ve spent months digging, and what do we have? Nothing.”
Mother’s sharp gaze snapped to me. “The daughter, Romolo. You were supposed to have something we could use weeks ago.”
My jaw clenched. “I’m working on it.”
“No. We’re done waiting,” Mother snapped. “If she doesn’t have anything useful, then we use her. We’re out of time. Where are the photos?”
The photos. The compromising ones of me and Mia that I told her I’d get.
They didn’t exist. Never fucking would.
“Pictures are easy to Photoshop,” I said dismissively. “It’s a weak plan.”
“Then get a video. Quickly. Humiliate her in it. Even if it doesn’t sway the election, it’ll sting. Morales won’t be able to bring her out for the rest of the campaign.”
Bile rose in my throat. She was out of her fucking mind. Was she actually asking me to film a sex tape—one designed to degrade Mia—and release it?
“You’ve done worse,” she said coldly, as if sensing my hesitation. “Don’t act like you’re above it.”
A charged silence filled the room. Alessio watched me with furrowed brows. Cosimo’s expression was harder to read, but his eyes flickered with something that might be concern.
They didn’t know what she was referring to.
Thank fuck for that.
It was true. I had done worse.
But that was before I met Mia. When the family was all I had. Now I had something more, even if it was just fucking fleeting. I wasn’t going to repeat my past mistakes with Mia, no matter what it cost me.
“Romolo.”
My gaze snapped back to Mother’s. “Yes?”
Arms crossed, she tilted her head. “Is there a problem?”
I took a slow sip of my drink. “No. I just think we don’t have time for petty distractions.”
“It’s an order. End of discussion.”
“Fine,” I gritted out. “Give me a few days.” When I came back empty-handed, I’d be ready with an explanation. Something along the lines of Mia refusing to see me this close to the election. For all I knew, after that fucking lunch, that might already be the truth.
That encounter had been a brutal reminder of why our days together were numbered. And it made me want to break something.
Dad leaned back in his chair. “We have to prepare for Morales’s win. He’s too confident. There’s a chance he has something on us.”
“You’re letting him get into your head.” Mother’s voice was tight. “He doesn’t have anything. We have to stay calm, be smart, and keep a tight rein on our operations and our people.”
My father picked up a heavy paperweight, his fingers flexing around it. “If this deal with Alvarez falls through, it’ll shake the confidence of our partners, not to mention the family.”
“I just got some news,” Cosimo said, eyeing his phone. “We got access to the flight logs for Alvarez’s private plane. It looks like he came to the States last week. Landed at a small private airport at the Finger Lakes. We weren’t able to track them past that, but we’ll be ready if he returns. Know anyone in that area?”
My grip tightened around the glass.
The Finger Lakes?
Mia had mentioned Morales had a meeting there over Labor Day weekend.
Dad’s gaze flicked to the city skyline. “No one comes to mind, but it’s a good lead. Any further movement—anything else you find out about that visit—I want to know immediately.”
The whiskey burned as it went down my throat. A coincidence?
My gut said no.
But if Mia’s father was involved with the same people trying to sabotage our deal with the Colombians…it would mean a level of corruption even my mother hadn’t anticipated from him.
I could ask Mia. Try to get more information.
If she was still willing to speak to me at all.
CHAPTER 39
ROM
The hotel was a small, understated brick building nestled on a quiet street in the Upper West Side. There were only ten rooms, and I had booked the presidential suite for Mia and me. She was running late, and I needed something to take the edge off, so I went down to the bar.
It was nearly empty, occupied only by a few neighborhood regulars drinking wine in worn leather chairs. They minded their business. I minded mine.
Loosening my collar, I took another sip of whiskey, trying to temper the tangle of emotions clawing at my chest.
Mia had taken her time replying to my text yesterday. Long enough for me to sweat. Long enough for me to get a bitter taste of what was waiting on the other side of this.
My life without her in it.
I'd always known it would come to this. That we had an expiration date. But now that it was staring me in the face, I still couldn’t bring myself to accept it.
Impossible ideas swirled through my head.
Ideas like walking away from the only life I’d ever known. Ideas like taking her with me, whether she liked it or not.
But deep down, I knew I couldn’t do it. I was a selfish bastard, but I couldn’t ruin her life just to keep her in mine. That knowledge was driven by something stronger than my selfishness, something I refused to put a name on.
I’d always thought this kind of obsessive attraction burned fast and bright before fizzling out, but with Mia, it had followed a different path.
It had led me straight to my doom.
The revolving door spun, and there she was.
The hard set of her mouth told me something was wrong. A sliver of worry curled inside my stomach, adding to the stress, anxiety, and fucking dread that had been festering ever since yesterday afternoon. She crossed the empty lobby and headed straight for me.
I stood as she approached, bracing myself, wondering if she was only here to say goodbye.
“Mia—“
She pressed herself against my chest and wrapped her arms around my waist.
Inside me, something shook.
I exhaled, locking my arms around her as I pressed a kiss to the crown of her head.
“Baby, what’s wrong?”
The bartender started to approach, likely to take her drink order, but I shot him a glare that sent him scurrying back to the other end of the bar.
Mia tilted her head up. Judging by the red around her eyes, she’d been crying.
It fucking killed me.
“Jenny knows.”
Son of a bitch. My grip on her tightened. “How?”
“She recognized your coat from when you were at my place. Confronted me after we left the restaurant.”
Fuck. My coat? I should have known better than to wear the same one I had with me the night of the ball.
“She told me I have to stop seeing you…or she’ll tell my dad.”
My whole fucking body tightened with the knowledge of what was coming next. It was like watching a car crash happening in real time. There was no way to stop it. She was going to tell me we were done.
She stared at me, her eyes shimmering. “Rom, I—“
“It was always meant to be temporary,” I cut in.
Coward.
If I said it first, I could pretend it wasn’t ripping me open.
A notch appeared between her brows. “That’s not where I was going. I’ve been thinking and…” Defiance and a hint of desperation crossed her face as she flattened her palms over my lapels. “Tell me the truth, Rom.”
“What truth?”
“How do you really feel about me?”
I bit on the inside of my cheek. This was even worse. She was calling my bluff.
How do I feel about her?
I’d spent years trying not to feel, only for her to barge into my life and crack the floodgates open. I felt too fucking much when it came to her. And if she knew what she meant to me, she’d have power over me.
It made me feel fucking vulnerable. I hated it.
And yet the answer was right there, clawing at my throat, desperate to be freed.
“Mia…” I drifted off, indecision shredding through my lungs.
She let out a breath. “If we’re honest with each other, maybe we can figure this out.” Her forehead pressed to my chest, and her voice was quieter now. “I want to figure this out.”
I cupped the back of her head with my palm and stared at the ceiling.
Would she still want to figure it out if she knew about the skeletons I hid in my closet? There were so many things she didn’t know about me. So many things that would eventually make her pull back.
Going further down this path would only make it hurt worse—for both of us—when it happened.
She took a step back. “I’ll give you a moment to think on it. I’m going to use the bathroom. Get me a drink.” A soft smile. “Something you think I’d like.” She squeezed my hand and disappeared around the corner.
I waved the bartender over and ordered her a berry-infused gin and tonic, my mind racing a mile a minute.
What I wanted with her was a fantasy strung together by wishful thinking and delusions. But Mia saw the world differently than me—full of goodness. Full of possibility. Full of fucking hope.
It was so tempting to see it her way, to let myself get carried away with it.
My fingertips traced the edge of a coaster.
The truth.
The truth was that I fucking loved her.
A light touch skimmed my back.
“I ordered you a gin and tonic,” I said.
“Not my favorite, but I’ll take it.”
My spine went rigid. That voice didn’t belong to Mia.
I turned and came face-to-face with Harper.
Son of a bitch.
“Romolo,” she said with a tight smile. “What an unpleasant surprise.”
What were the chances we’d run into each other here? Then it hit me. We met here once when I was sleeping with her.
I was so agitated last night that I’d forgotten this very inconvenient fact when I picked the meeting spot.
”Harper,” I acknowledged, my nape prickling. If she saw Mia, she might recognize her from TV.
That couldn’t happen.
“This is a nice place. Quiet.” Bitterness dripped from her words. “I come back here from time to time.”
“Maybe you should come back tomorrow instead.” My voice dropped to the kind of tone that usually made people scurry.
But it didn’t faze Harper. She ignored the suggestion, her gaze flicking to the cocktail the bartender had just set on the counter.
“Who are you waiting for?”
I stood up. If she wouldn’t leave, then I would. Mia couldn’t walk in on this. “I’ve got somewhere else to be.”
Her hand shot out, and her fingers clamped around my wrist. “I took your awful advice and left him. Turns out the prenup was airtight. I walked away with nothing.”
My jaw clenched. “Not my fucking problem.”
She set her purse on the counter and leaned in. “You ruined my fucking life.”
I scanned her over, paying attention to the details. Gaunt frame. Dull hair. Dark bags under her eyes. She looked sharper and harder than the last time I saw her back in Messero’s bedroom.
I hadn’t felt a thing then, not even pity. I used to be good at numbing my emotions. But now, a twinge of regret appeared at the back of my head. “I didn’t do anything you didn’t want me to.”
“You saw an unhappy woman and took advantage.”
I picked up my drink and took a long pull, but it didn’t help. Acid slid down my throat. I didn’t believe in signs or messages from the fucking universe.
But this?
This felt like one.
This is who you are. This is what you do. You really think telling Mia you love her will be enough for her to stick by your side when she finds out?
Harper’s teeth glinted in the low light. “If you hadn’t sunk your claws in me, I might have stayed with him. Instead, you fucked me up, and by the time I came to my senses, it was too late.” She sighed heavily, like someone mourning a tragedy. “I wish I’d never met you.”
A pit opened in my stomach.
Not the first time I’d heard those words.
In my head, their voices synchronized, echoing over each other, growing louder.
Then a third voice joined.
Mia’s.
I didn’t ever want to hear her say it. Didn’t think I could survive it.
Me loving her wasn’t going to be enough. Us trying to find a way to be together would only implode her life and her relationship with her family.
For what?
I wasn’t fucking worth it. Eventually, she’d figure that out.
Harper’s fingers brushed my chest. “You’re poisonous, Rom. I hope one day it kills you from the inside out.”
She wouldn’t have to wait long. Venom burned through my veins as I came to terms with what I had to do.
I shoved Harper’s hands off me and walked out of the bar.
Mia might have led me to my doom.
But I wasn’t going to take her down with me.
CHAPTER 40
MIA
Romolo was waiting for me outside the bathroom. “Finally. Let’s go.”
He grabbed my hand in a grip that was too firm and dragged me to the elevator.
My brows pinched together as I struggled to keep up with his long strides. “What’s going on?”
“Nothing.” The tendons in his neck were taut from the way he was clenching his jaw.
This wasn’t nothing.
“Did something happen? Rom—ouch, you’re hurting me!”
He dropped my hand like it burned him and curled his fingers into a fist at his side. A flash of something—regret?—crossed his face, but it was gone in an instant.
“We need to talk,” he said stiffly. “But not here. I got us a room.”
The way he touched me, the coldness in his eyes...it was like he'd become a stranger in the span of a few minutes.
Confusion knotted in my stomach. Umm, what the hell had happened in the five minutes I was gone?
The elevator ride up was silent. The air felt thick, heavy with a tension that I didn’t fully understand. Romolo didn’t move, didn’t blink. It seemed like he didn’t breathe. He just stared at the doors like he was willing them to open faster.
My wrist still felt the sting of his grip. I rubbed it absentmindedly. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the motion and flinched. His face twisted.
“I’m sorry,” he muttered, the words rough, like they'd been scraped from his throat.
“It’s fine. Are you okay?” I couldn’t make any sense of this weird shift in his mood.
No answer. When we got to our floor, he stalked down the short hall, obviously expecting me to follow.
The room was nice—tasteful, understated decor in muted shades of gray and blue. But I barely registered the details before the door slammed shut and Romolo's gaze locked with mine.
It was so intense, so dark, it stole the air out of my lungs.
“It’s over.”
My stomach plummeted to somewhere in the vicinity of my shoes.
“We both know there’s nowhere for this to go from here.”
I stared at him, stunned. This wasn’t how this was supposed to go.
In the bathroom, I'd given myself a pep talk, psyching myself up to be honest with him. To tell him the truth about how I’d fallen for him.
Because if we were ready to admit it—to say it out loud—there had to be a way to make it work. I didn’t have a plan. Just a desperate desire to try, and a bone-deep faith that together, we could figure it out.
I thought Romolo would want to try too. By now, I trusted my intuition when it came to him.
Something must’ve happened in the last few minutes that had set him off.
But I wasn’t going to give up on us that easily.
"I asked you a question before I went to the bathroom.” My voice sounded far steadier than I felt. "Answer it."
He strode toward the minibar. “What do you want me to say?” His hands shook slightly as he unscrewed a tiny bottle of whiskey and sloshed the amber liquid into a glass. “That I wish we had more time?” He tossed the shot back, his throat working as he swallowed. “We both knew this was never going to work long-term.”
A hollow ache bloomed inside my chest. “Rom, just answer the question.”
How do you feel about me?
His gaze flicked over me. He shrugged. “You were a good fuck.”
The world blurred at the edges, tears stinging my eyes. His words cut deep. I wanted to scream, to demand an explanation for why he was being such an asshole.
