Chapter 161

I look around in a daze and see a car pull up in front of me. I flinch away from it at first until I see Christian in the driver’s seat. He jumps out of it fast, leaving it running, coming around the car to where I stand with Frankie.

“I’ll take it from here,” Christian says, tilting his head to the side to where Nico moves with Lucy to the car we came here in. I blink as I realize it, turning back to the car Christian was driving, wondering whose it is.

Christian reaches out a hand for me and I look down at it, blinking, making no move to shift my weight from Frankie, to separate myself from him.

“Iris,” Christian says, holding the hand out further.

Frankie drops his hand from my shoulder and steps away. I stumble a little and he holds me right, and then gives me a small push towards my husband. I look up at him, desperate, not wanting to go.

But Frankie just holds my gaze, worried, and nods once. And something in that tells me that I have to – that I have to take Christian’s hand right now. That it’s not an option for him to stay with me – he has to go.

Because his boss – the Don of the Romano family – ordered it.

And whatever camaraderie they had before, where Frankie could push back against him – that’s gone.

Everything now has changed.

Frankie takes a further step from me and I look back to my husband, who is waiting for me, more patient than I thought he’d be.

“Iris,” Christian says, incredibly soft, pleading.

I reach out and slip my hand into his.

And just like that, it’s done.

I take my husband’s hand and he opens the passenger-side door for me, carefully handing me into the seat. He closes the door behind me without a word and passes in front of the car, climbing in and quickly putting the car into gear. As we drive out of Lupa’s parking lot I wonder, passively, how many minutes have passed since Christian had all those men killed.

Five? Five minutes? Five minutes since Tony and Lorenzo were alive?

We don’t say anything to each other, but from the way that Christian is gripping the steering wheel as he drives - white-knuckled, his palms grinding against the leather - I know that he’s not immune to what happened. That he’s processing it too in a very real, very human way.

That he is, in fact, human.

The realization makes me turn and study him. This man. My husband. My best friend.

God, do I know him at all?

Seeing me stare, Christian glances over at me as we drive calmly through the city, heading for the outskirts.

“Are you all right?” He asks, his voice even.

I don’t answer. I just turn my head to peer out the windshield again. And then, as I do, I frown and look around the car some more because…well, whose car is this? It’s very fine - all leather and chrome details, surely the kind of car that costs thousands more than -

The realization hits me like a brick.

Romano’s car. Christian’s father’s car - the one he came in. The one he drove to Lupa less than an hour ago. And Christian just…claimed it, as easily has he did the family.

His car, his family, his empire. His.

Just like me.

“Where are we going?” I ask quietly, some part of me passively realizing that we’re not at all headed for the penthouse.

“Home.” His answer is simple, quiet. Almost peaceful. But I turn towards him, blinking, because I don’t know what that means - maybe my mind isn’t working right. Where is home?

Sensing my confusion, Christian glances at me with a frown. “We’re going to the Romano estate, Iris.”

My eyes widen and I glance down over his body, the blood all over him. Is that…wise? To show up at his family home, covered in the blood of his father? His brothers?

Sensing my silent critique, Christian sighs and refocuses on the road. “We have a very short time to claim and consolidate power,” he explains, his voice a bit more clipped now. “I’m sorry, I know this is…difficult. That you’d probably rather not go there just now. But it has to be done.”

“Could you drop me at the penthouse?” I ask quietly, just wanting to…I don’t know. Lay down. Do anything but have another confrontation because…god, wait, will there be more blood?

“Iris,” Christian breathes, and I look up to see the wounded expression on his face. “I need you there. By my side. This is…this is your family, your estate now too.”

I look at my husband for a long moment and then nod once, letting him know I understand. But as we continue down the road I wonder how much of this is really mine. If I still just the mafia captive I was the night Nico carried me out of the strip club. If Christian isn’t just moving me to a larger cage.

When we pull through the gates of the house, Christian drives the car right to the front steps, not bothering to park it neatly in one of the garages in the back of the house. He unbuckles his seatbelt and, to my surprise, turns towards me, leaning far out of his seat to take my face in his hands.

“Iris,” he whispers, studying my face, worried, “seriously, are you okay? You haven’t said a word…”

I just stare at him, having no real answer for that.

His eyes flick over my face, worried. “Seriously, are you in shock? Do you need to go to the hospital?”

“Christian,” I whisper, reaching up to wrap my fingers around his wrist, shaking my head a little. “No, I don’t need to go to the hospital.”

“Please,” he whispers, looking at me plaintively. “I mean, I know that was horrible, I just…”

I take a deep breath, seeing what he’s asking of me, and trying very, very hard to give it. Because…he’s still my husband. Still my Christian. And whatever he needs…I’ll give it to him.

Right?

We both jump at a sharp knock at my window and I spin to see Nico’s frowning face. Christian heaves a deep sigh and gets out of the car, crossing quickly to Nico’s side. The two have a quick, clipped conversation before Christian nods and opens my car door, holding out a hand.

“Come on, Iris,” he says gently. “Let’s go inside.”

I take his hand again, almost automatically, and try to get up - but something stops me.

“Your seatbelt,” he murmurs, leaning in across me to unbuckle it. I let him and then turn, slipping my legs out of the car. As I stand I find Nico staring hard at me in much the way Christian was a moment ago.

“Is she okay?” he asks, wary.

I frown at him, keeping hold of Christians hand as he shuts the door behind me. “You can ask me. And I’m fine.”

A tiny smirk lights Nico’s face. “There she is.”

But my frown just deepens. “Where’s Frankie? And Lucy?” I ask.

Nico nods towards the back of the house. “Back door, and then up to her room. She’s a mess and we’ve got things to do.”

I stare at Nico for a moment, at the blasé way he categorizes Lucy’s trauma as a mess. But then Christian tugs on my hand and I set my shoulders back, knowing it’s time to go in.

The three of us start forward up the stairs towards the door, the men on either side of me, my hand still firmly in Christian’s.