“Fine. Whatever. I just need to see her,” Mira said, shrugging.
“Give me five, then lead her up,” I told Vissi, then turned, and made my way back upstairs.
“Dulles, do you think we can take a trip to… oh,” she said, her smile falling as her gaze landed on me.
“I have a proposition for you,” I said, watching as her cold gaze cut to me. Her brow rose slowly when I didn’t immediately go on. “I’m willing to let you have something you’re probably really desperate for right now if you stop acting like I’m a ghost in my own fucking home.”
“I am not desperate for a fucking orgasm, Primo,” she growled. Growled. The woman growled at me.
“I wasn’t talking about your pussy, though I am always up for that,” I said, watching in amusement as her eyes turned to slits.
“What were you talking about then?” she asked, crossing her arms.
It was not even eight in the morning and this woman was ready to fight.
I liked that about her.
“Agree to stop dancing around me,” I demanded, hearing the elevator.
“Only if what you have to offer is good enough,” she said, chin raising.
“Oh, it’s good enough. But you take the deal now. No more silent treatment shit. You got a problem with me, you say it.”
“When it comes to you, Primo, I always have a problem with you,” she said. If looks could kill, I would be full of bullets right then.
“You tell him!” Mira’s voice called from behind me, and I got to watch as Isabella’s eyes got huge.
“Is that…” she said, voice sounding like it was quivering, making me feel shittier than I had in a long time. That was pure desperation in her gaze right then.
“It is,” I said, nodding. “I need you to agree first,” I reminded her, seeing her eyes getting glassy.
“I agree. I agree. Just let me see my sister,” she demanded as a tear slipped down her cheek. “Please,” she added, sniffling.
I wasn’t a gentle man.
But I had an almost overwhelming urge to go to her, to wipe the tears from her cheeks, to pull her into my arms, and assure her that it was going to be okay.
Only, I couldn’t do any of that.
So I took a step back and nodded toward Vissi who released Mira’s arm.
And she bolted into the space, ramming me hard with her arm as she passed, then throwing herself into her sister’s arms.
“This was the right move,” Vissi said, coming up next to me. “In case you needed someone to tell you that, this was the right move. This is what a man with the right intentions would do. The Costas will see that. It will ease the tensions.”
He was right.
But I didn’t give a shit about the Costas right that moment.
Because my gaze was fixed on my wife. Who was bawling in the arms of her sister, her entire body racking with the sobs that escaped her.
I’d never really felt small in my life.
But I felt fucking infinitesimal right then.
“And in case you can’t see it for yourself, it will help the tensions between you and the missus.”
I could hope.
CHAPTER TEN
Isabella
Primo was not the sort of man who went back on his word.
Which was what made him letting my sister visit all the more shocking.
I was half-sure I was hearing voices when Mira called to me from the elevator.
But then there she was.
And I just… I shattered.
I was actually embarrassed after the tears dried and my sister and I made our way to the kitchen just how hard I’d cried on her.
“I guess I’ve been bottling up more than I realized,” I admitted as I went to the coffee machine since no one I knew liked caffeine quite as much as my sister.
I had to admit to myself at least that ever since the tub incident and the wedge it had put between Primo and me, the loneliness had really started to creep in. Sure, I had Dawson and Dulles who were steadily becoming more like friends than just guards. But I felt like I needed to be really careful what I said around them since their loyalty would always be to their brother, to their Family.
I didn’t really ever recognize just how much I’d come to rely on my family for emotional regulation until I couldn’t just pick up a phone and call them or drop over and see them.
Without them, I felt so incredibly, bone-deep alone.
“It’s no wonder with that fucking monster you married,” Mira said, dropping down on the stool at the island, tapping her short nails on the counter. Energy, she always had a lot of it. Likely from all the aforementioned caffeine.
“I’m okay,” I told her, passing her the cup of coffee and some sugar. “Really. Crazy emotional display aside, I’m okay,” I insisted, reaching across the island to give her hand a squeeze. “He’s… he’s kept his word.”
“And you?” she asked, gaze guarded. “Have you kept your word? Has he made you…”
“No,” I said, fast, too fast. She was likely immediately suspicious, but the response had nothing to do with anything I could ever tell her. “No. He hasn’t made me do anything really. Aside from sleeping in the same bed which he claims is for safety reasons in case there was ever a, I don’t know, drive-by or something.”
“There are a lot of windows here,” she said, nodding at them. “They have some sort of block on them, though. You can’t see in. Even with night vision.”
“You’ve been watching the apartment with night vision?”
“No. This was the first time I got into this area of The Bronx. His little guards are everywhere. And we look a lot alike. There was no way they wouldn’t know who I was and that I didn’t belong. But the kid that is usually watching the street was being hassled by the cops, so I was able to sneak in. Then got caught by that stupidly good looking asshole.”
“Which one? They are all infuriatingly attractive.”
“Viggi? Vicci? I don’t know. Something ridiculous like that.”
“Vissi,” I supplied. “He’s really not so bad.”
“If I have bruises on my arm, I have to pay him a visit.”
“You did not threaten them,” I grumbled, eyes closing, looking for a little patience.
“Only to cut off his fingers and potentially pour hot grease over his nether regions.”
“Oh, is that all?” I asked, deadpan, getting a smile out of her.
“You do seem… okay,” she said. “Aside from the crying.”
“I missed you. I miss everyone,” I admitted. “I think I was just overwhelmed.”
“Honestly, I’m kind of shocked he let me see you. I just figured I might catch sight of you, or you might hear me, and know we love you and are impatiently waiting for you to be able to contact us.”
“I think you caught him in a relatively good mood,” I told her.
“If that was a good mood, then I really am worried about you.”
“Don’t be,” I demanded, topping off my cool coffee. “Really, don’t. I’m okay. I mean I miss you guys so much I can barely breathe at times. But they’re not hurting me or being super restrictive or anything. It’s just…”