43

Cara
Despite his promise to come up with a compromise, three days pass before I finally lose my patience.
I try to be a good wife and partner. I want to make this work, even if we’re faking it. I have lunch with Helen, walk the grounds with his mother, straighten up the room despite him pleading with me to let the staff do it, and I do it all with a smile.
I wear my sneakers and don’t complain when he slips into bed late at night, not saying a word.
I avoid Sophia and Anissa as best I can though I catch their dirty glares when I pass them in the halls, which is mercifully rare.
But enough is enough.
I can only take so much.
My world is like an afterlife. Not a prison-but a hell. I’m trapped here, stuck drifting from one place to another, like purgatory. Not quite stuck, not quite able to escape.
I wake up early, shower while he’s still asleep, get myself ready, and confront him as the birds chirp at the sunrise.
“I’m going to work.” I pull the uniform over my head and shoot Phel a text. Coming in today no matter what.
Eros sits up in bed and stares at me. He rubs his red, bleary eyes, and gives me that grumpy, pissed-at-the-world glare. “Who said you could?”
“I gave you plenty of chances to come up with a solution, but you haven’t. So I’m leaving.” I put my hands on my hips, trying to look tough but feeling like I might crumble at any moment. It’s not exactly easy standing under the bright spotlight of Eros’s grumpy stare. “Are you going to lock me up?”
“I don’t need to do that,” he says, eyes sparkling with slight amusement. “My people simply won’t take you.”
“I can take the damn bus.” I storm out of the bedroom.
Eros follows wearing nothing but his boxer briefs. I hesitate before moving into the hall, captivated by his enormous, muscular body. He’s been in a sour mood lately and I’ve barely seen him during waking hours. He comes home late, sometimes stinking of blood, takes long showers, then collapses beside me, asleep as soon as his head hits the pillow, only to wake a couple hours later to do it all over again. I understand there’s a war, and the Italians have been pushing hard lately, but if he doesn’t go easy on himself, I’m worried that he won’t make it. I don’t remember when I started to feel nervous for him, but now it’s like I can’t stop thinking about all the ways this can go wrong, and all the ways I might lose him.
“My wife will not take the bus.” His jaw works hard. “Give me more time. Two more days.”
“Then what? You’ll stand there in your underwear two days from now and demand a week? Sorry, Eros, but you had your chance.”
“Asteraki mu.” He barks the nickname at me. “It isn’t safe for you there.”
“Then make it safe.” I throw up my hands. “Send more soldiers. I don’t know. Lock down the whole damn block if you have to but do something. I never agreed to be your kept bird in a pretty little cage.”
He rubs his face. “Damn it, Cara. I’m stretched thin as it is. The Italians are making waves-” He stops himself like he realizes what he’s saying. Eros never talks about the war, not directly at least. It’s always hints, intimations, if I’m lucky enough to make him speak at all.
“Is it because of me?” I ask quietly. I hate the idea of men fighting and dying for me out on the street, and I had a feeling he was keeping something from me this whole time.
“Not entirely,” he admits. “Things were very bad between us and the Pavones before you came into the picture. I believe you’re a convenient excuse they’re using.”
“They’re actively talking about me?”
He takes a slow, deep breath, then lets it out. “The Pavone Famiglia claims they want to take back their Capo’s wife. They claim I kidnapped you from him.”
I blink rapidly as heat rushes into my cheeks. “You didn’t kidnap me, I ran away from that abusive asshole. And I am not his wife anymore. I signed the divorce papers.”
“I know you did.” He steps closer. “But in Illinois, a single-party divorce takes at least eighteen months. Gareth is working on cutting that down as fast as he can. He says he’s making progress, but for now-”
I stagger back as if shot in the gut.
My mouth drops open, trying to form words, but there’s nothing, as my mind struggles to fit together what he just told me. I have no breath in my chest, no beat to my heart, and blackness presses at the edges of my eyes.
I’m still married to Christopher.
After all this, it’s still not over.
Another eighteen months before I’m really free of that bastard.
“Cara,” Eros says, running to me as I lean against the door, my hand pressed to my chest. “Cara, breathe.”
I pull shuddering, gasping air into my lungs, but shove him away when he tries to touch me. “Don’t,” I say through my teeth. “Don’t, Eros.”
“Cara. Asteraki mu.”
“Stop it. Don’t call me that.” I glare at him as rage wells up in my stomach. He knew from the start, and he didn’t tell me. “You lied to me.”
“No,” he says sharply. “I never did.”
“You said we were married. You called me your wife.”
“You are my wife. We signed the paperwork. Gareth just hasn’t filed it yet to avoid legal complications.”
“Then we aren’t actually married.” I laugh sharply, giddy and dizzy and confused. A deep, dark sadness overwhelms me. “It was fake to begin with, and now you’re telling me it’s even faker than I thought.”
“Cara-”
“Stop talking to me. I need to think.” I turn my back on him, trembling.
For the past few days I’ve walked around this house like I belonged. Everyone smiled at me, nodded their heads respectfully, and treated me well, but now I’m finding out it’s a farce. Even worse than I believed. I actually started to like being Eros’s wife-I started having delusions about calling this place my home-but I can’t even have that stupid daydream.
“Gareth is going to fix this,” he says thickly, his tone twisted with emotion. “I promise you that. You are mine, my woman, my wife. Paperwork-”
“That was the whole thing!” I say, shaking my head. “The whole reason we didn’t try to fake it from the start. It was supposed to be real. Now you’re telling me it’s not.”
“I’m telling you there’s a delay. You are mine, Cara. You are my wife. You wear my rings-”
“But do you?” I snap, turning my rage on him. “Do you wear the ring? Hold up your hand, Eros. Let me see.”
He shakes his head slowly. “Whether I wear it or not, it doesn’t matter.”
“It matters and you know it. Symbols mean something. You keep talking about how your family would never accept me unless we were married, which means you understand. Rings are important. All this time, I’ve been wandering the grounds thinking I’m really married to you. Now I find out that I’m still married to Christopher, and this thing we have is worse than a lie. And you still won’t wear the damn ring.” I blink back the tears that threaten to overwhelm me.
“I already told you-”
“I don’t care what you said.” I rip the door open then step into the hall. “You lied to me. You should’ve told me from the start.”
“I’ve been busy killing Italians,” he says darkly. “Killing them for you.”
“Maybe you should’ve been busy dealing with your family. God, you people hate each other so damn much, why can’t you figure out a way to heal the wounds in your own house before you go murder your enemies?”
“They tried to take you,” he says and steps toward me. “Cara-”
“No,” I say sharply. “Don’t come closer. I never asked you to go on a rampage, murdering people for me. I just… I need space right now.”
His dark eyes meet mine. They’re flooded with rage and pain, but I won’t let that sway me. I won’t try to comfort him, not now, maybe not ever again.
I feel more betrayed than I ever have before.
“Cara,” he calls out as I storm away, ignoring the looks I get from the maids cleaning nearby, feeling so humiliated, so embarrassed, so belittled, with nowhere left to run.