Romeo The Mafia Casanova

Forty-One



Eden’s [POV]

NowOne hundred and sixty-eight hours.

Seven days.

One week had passed since Romeo had discovered me in his office.

Since then, he’d kept to himself, which was very unlike him. Especially since he made himself at home in my house.

What was he trying to keep from me?

“Mama, are you okay?”

“Hmm…” I replied, caught off guard as I pulled into Naz’s school.

“You have that face.”

“What face?”

“The one where you’re thinking. Uncle Romeo says you scrunch your nose and bite your lip when you’re thinking hard about something.”

My hands trembled. How did he know everything? Why? “Is that right?”

“Yep. He says that your eyes get glossy when you’re upset, and they kinda are right now too. Am I in trouble?”

“No. You’re the best boy.”

He smiled.

“What else has Uncle Romeo told you?” I searched for answers I would probably never get, but I craved the information. Or maybe I just needed to know who I was to him, not that it would change anything. He gave me away, which means even if he could have me-he wouldn’t attempt it.

“That you love with all your heart, but I already knew that one because Daddy said it too.”

I winced. I couldn’t help it.

“Do you miss him, Mama?”

I nodded, unable to form the words to lie to him. Visions of Tristian holding that gun, of him claiming me when I asked for him to love me filled my head to the point of dizziness.

“Do you think he misses us?”

“Of course. He misses you the most, though.”

His eyes widened. “How do you know?”

“I’m your mom; I know everything.”

“Do you think Daddy is back to being himself in Heaven?”

I parked the car, waiting for the lane to begin again as my brain whirled with questions. “What do you mean?”

“Daddy. Do you think he’s himself with God?” Such an innocent question, such a difficult answer. How did he even notice the slow shift Tristian had taken? It was so subtle even I had trouble digesting it.

“Naz.” I looked over at him. “I don’t understand what you’re asking me.”

“Well… Daddy was different. He changed a lot.” He shrugged. “He didn’t want to play with me that much, and when he was home, he was always so grumpy. And he yelled at you a lot. I don’t know why. You were always a good mama. Uncle Romeo says that he was stressed, and sometimes that changes people.”

I jerked back, never expecting him to share that.

“Naz, why haven’t you ever said something to me before?” My heart cracked in my chest. I’d failed as a mom, hadn’t I? This entire time I thought I was shielding Naz; instead, he felt and saw everything.

“About Daddy?”

“Yes.”

“I didn’t want to make you sad. Your eyes were glossy a lot with Daddy, so I didn’t want to make you sadder. I’m a good boy, right?”

“Always, baby.” I got teary-eyed; there was no help with that either. “Your daddy didn’t make me sad.”

“No?”

“No, bud.”

“Okay. That makes me happy because I miss him a lot. I hope he doesn’t forget about me.”

“That could never happen. You’re too unforgettable.”

His eyes lit up. “That’s what Uncle Romeo said too, Mama.”

Of course, Romeo said that, and I knew in my soul he meant it. “See… everyone knows.”

He smiled wide, the worry residing from his gaze.

“You have a good day at school, okay?”

“I will, Mama. You have a good day too.”

I ruffled up his hair, pulling my car up to the teacher who was on car duty that morning. She opened the door, and Naz jumped out as happy as could be. He waved back and was on his way, running toward his friends who’d been waiting for him.

I sat there in a haze for a few seconds until the blare of the horn honking behind me brought me back to the present. Still mulling over my conversation with Naz, I pulled into traffic shaking my head.

How long had Naz noticed a change in Tristian’s personality?

I thought I was doing a great job at hiding the truth from him, but now I felt as though I had failed him as well. The guilt consumed my core while I drove out of the school parking lot. Trying to control the shame I was suddenly overwhelmed with.

When my phone rang, I reached into my purse and answered it. “Hello.”

“We need to talk, Eden. Can you come to my office?”

“Hi to you too, Dad.”

“It’s important.”

“I’m on my way.” I sighed at his seriousness.

He didn’t respond; he just hung up. Which was weird for my father; he was never short with me like that. Fifteen minutes later, I was pulling into his driveway, and walking into his office.

“What’s with the short phone call?” I questioned when I saw him sitting behind his desk with an expression I couldn’t place.

He nodded to the chair in front of his desk, and I sat in it. “You’re freaking me out; what’s up?”

“We’re dropping the case for Tristian’s death, and we won’t be pursuing his killer.”

“Wait, what?”

“You heard me, Eden.”

“Not correctly. I think you just told me you’re not looking for my husband’s killer anymore.”Text © by N0ve/lDrama.Org.

“I did.”

“I don’t understand.” I shook my head. “Why not?”

“It’s none of your concern.”

“None of my concern?” I shot up. “How is my husband’s death not my concern?”

“Eden, calm down.”

“Not until you tell me what the hell is going on!”

“There is nothing to tell you. It’s business.” He was so stoic like we were talking about dinner, not death.

I pushed him further. “So, his death is related to business then?”

“I didn’t say that,” he snapped.

I put my hands on my hips. “Yeah, you did.”

“Eden, sit down.”

I did as I was told, trying to keep my shit together when all I wanted to do was scream at him. I was tired of everyone treating me like I was a porcelain doll that was going to break.

“What is going on? I have the right to know.”

“We’re protecting you.”

“From what exactly? Is my life in danger? Is Naz’s?”

“Not anymore.”

“What does that even mean? Can you please stop with the cryptic messages?”

“It doesn’t matter how upset this may get you. We don’t involve wives or children in our business. You were born into this life, Eden. You know how it works.”

I stared, jaw slack. My father was not only lying to me but brushing me off!

“This is bullshit,” I yelled.

His eyes flashed. “Because you’re angry, I will let that slide, but I don’t need to remind you that I’m your father and won’t tolerate you speaking to me in that manner.”

“Oh my God!” I stood, needing to pace the room. Back and forth I went, reeling in my emotions. “Then I’ll pursue my case.”

“Excuse me?” his tone was lethal, his expression murderous.

I turned to face him. “I said, I’ll pursue my case. I’ll find out who murdered Tristian. I already saw-”

“-you need to forget about what you saw.” He leaned back into his black leather chair, folding his hands together on top of his desk. “I understand you’re upset.”

“I am more than upset! He was my husband! His murderer deserves to rot in prison.”

He was quiet and then, in a low voice, expressed, “We took care of it.”

I jerked back again; it was like one hit after another. “Then you know who killed him?”

He didn’t say a word.

Not one word.

“Dad! Answer me. Do you know who killed him? My son is going to be raised without a father. I deserve an answer.”

“He has Romeo,” he said, so simply I wanted to scream.

My body flew back as if he slapped me. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Eden, you’re my daughter. I know everything.”

He gave me a look that I was more than familiar with. Making me roll my eyes and take a deep breath. I looked down at the floor, not wanting him to see the expression on my face. I was scared it would give away how I was feeling.

“Is that why Romeo is in my house? You think he’s just supposed to step into Tristian’s shoes, and we’re supposed to be this happy family now?” How dare he, how fucking dare he!

“I don’t know, Eden. You tell me.”

My head was spinning, my heart was racing, and my stomach was tumbling.

I couldn’t stop it.

I couldn’t stop this.

My mind and my heart wouldn’t let me as they collided into one terrifying thing. My heart continued to beat rapidly, hammering in my head and making me feel dizzy.

Lightheaded.

Overwhelmed by everything that was suddenly happening. Everything he was suddenly saying. Feeling like I was being mentally torn in three directions.

His.

Mine.

Tristian’s.

My mind was in overdrive, putting up one hell of a fight with my heart.

“You don’t know what you’re saying,” I stated, still not meeting his eyes. Scared it would give me away.

“I never say what I don’t mean. Romeo is in your home to protect you and Naz.”

“From what?”

“Everything.”

“That makes no sense.”

“Your husband is gone; I don’t need to repeat to you what our life is. I will always protect you, and my grandson and the only man I trust to do the job is Romeo.”

“For how long?”

“As long as it takes.”

I was afraid of that. “What?”

“Eden, I’m done having this conversation. I told you what I needed to say, and you needed to know. There is nothing left for me to say to you. You can go.”

“I’m not finished.”

“I have a business to attend to,” he informed in a calm voice that said, leave as politely as possible.

“Dad… please.” I peered deep into his eyes. “Please tell me what’s going on… I’m going crazy over here.”

I couldn’t breathe.

I couldn’t move.

I could barely even stand.

My eyes pooled with tears, taking in the memories flooding my mind. Each one unfolded in front of me, playing out one by one as I made my way around the room. He wouldn’t answer.

Give me the truth.

Tell me anything I desired to know.

This was my life…

Men protecting me from the monster who lurked in the shadows. But what happens when the monster lurking is also the prince? The hero? The one you want to save you? How do you even begin to protect yourself from that?

“Please… first it’s Romeo taking everything from Tristian’s office away from me, then I go to his penthouse to find files of Tristian on his computer. What is going on? Please…”

My request was cut short when my mom started calling for him from the speaker in his office.

He pressed the intercom button. “I’ll be right there.”

“Daddy…”

“I’ll be right back.”

He left, leaving me alone. It couldn’t be any more perfect. My feet were moving on their own, and before I knew what I was doing, I opened one of the drawers, seeing nothing that would be of use to me. I reached in, moving everything to see if I could find something that may answer all my insecurities.

Nothing.

Nowhere.

I couldn’t find one fucking thing.

Staring up at the ceiling, I breathed out, “God, please help me.”

As if answering my prayers, a cell phone dinged with a text message. Not just any cellphone…

My father’s.

I walked toward it, feeling like this was the moment when the truth would make itself known. I didn’t know why, but each step that brought me closer to his phone had me questioning everything. Until finally, I picked up his phone. Swiping it over, unlocking his screen with the code he had used since I was a little girl.

Written in plain sight was the truth.

Never in a million years did I think…

The truth wouldn’t set me free.

Instead, it buried me alive.


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