Chapter 166

“Where are Nico and Frankie?” I ask quietly.

“They’re doing their jobs,” he replies, his slightly raised eyebrow letting me know that I don’t need to know any more than that and shouldn’t ask.

But it has the opposite effect. “Christian,” I groan, leaning hard against the counter as I shake my head at him. “Why won’t you tell me? Why won’t you let me know?”

“Because when I do you look at me like that!” he says, nodding towards me and gesturing towards my disappointed expression, my half glare, my clear grief.

“So what,” I ask, shaking my head. “You’re not letting me in on your life because you don’t like my reactions? Because they make you feel bad? Christian – maybe you should feel bad!”

“Iris, if you think that I don’t feel bad about this –“ he snaps, shaking his head hard at me, “and god, what a fucking understatement of a word. But if you don’t think that this doesn’t affect me too?” He leaves the statement rhetorical, letting me draw the natural conclusion.

“Then why can’t I know?” I ask.

“Because I’m starting to see that you can’t handle it,” he says, more gently now. “I mean, perhaps no one should be able to handle seeing that much death – but Iris…after that, you were like…catatonic.” He frowns, looking me up and down. “You look…better now.”

“Because I was able to do something to help,” I say, glancing towards the stairs, towards where Giana is still suffering. “But Chris – you can’t just leave me in the dark to spare me from things. I have to know what’s going on – I can’t just…be your little house wife. Or whatever.”

“We’ll find a balance, Iris,” he says, nodding to me but clearly not liking it, preferring perhaps that I be his little mafia housewife that he could protect from the realities of his world. “But…for now, please don’t push. Things are…still delicate.”

My eyebrows shoot up and I stand straight. “How delicate?” I ask. “Are we…in danger?”

“We’re not out of danger,” he murmurs, staring off into space a bit as he speaks. Then the blinks and returns his gaze to me. “But it’s nothing I can’t handle. Just…let me handle it, okay? And when things are calmer we’ll have a long talk and figure things out more completely.”

He stands then, moving closer to me, lining his body next to mine even as he holds the baby in his arms. I sigh and rest my head against his shoulder, letting him take some of my weight, letting my eyes drift shut.

“I love you, Iris,” Christian whispers. “I am sorry about today – about everything that happened, that you had to see it. That was…maybe a mistake. Frankie told me it was and I should have listened – he knows you very well after all these months.”

I don’t move, neither confirming or denying. Because on one hand I definitely do not want to be in horrible rooms like that. But if the alternative is just not knowing what my husband is capable of? The depths to which he can sink?

I’m not sure I want to live in ignorance either.

“Daisy,” he murmurs, and I raise my head, looking into his eyes. He sighs and then leans forward, pressing a kiss to my forehead. “It will all get better. I promise. I promise you.”

“I don’t want to live a life that has this much darkness in it, Chris,” I whisper, really meaning it.

“We won’t. This is just…the necessary work that needs to be done to clear the way for our better life. They never would have let us live it, Iris – you have to believe that.”

I open my eyes, looking up at him, wondering if it’s true. Wondering if we ran away to Paris if they really would have followed. Wondering if another life was truly impossible.

And even though I nod, I realize that I don’t fully believe him. At least, not just yet.

“Where do we live now?” I ask, quiet, wanting to know.

“Here,” he replies, gentle. “This is our house now, Iris. Our place, at the head of the family, in the family home. We’ll…take the master suite as soon as Bianca moves out.”

I sigh, hanging my head and reaching for my glass of wine. “I don’t like that, Christian. Don’t like that you’re kicking a woman out of her home.”

“A woman who betrayed me, who tried to get me to marry a girl who would spill my secrets to her my entire life.”

I shake my head, not giving in to it. “Not a sin worth losing her home.”

“You have to get tougher,” Christian says, his voice hard. I just purse my lips and take a long sip of my wine, looking away, thinking that I perhaps don’t want to be tough if it means accepting things like that as a normal part of the world. That perhaps I’d rather remain sensitive, if it means keeping my humanity.

But Chrisitan ignores my lack of response, moving on. “Bianca will go back to her family. Giana will move to one of the houses out back, if she’ll take it. Or away, if she’d prefer, though I’d rather keep the kids here. My two other brothers are coming tomorrow so we can…see where things lay.”

My eyebrows go up again as I turn my head back to him. “Well that sounds dangerous,” I say, my shoulders tensing. “Are they going to…try to take your spot?”

He shakes his head once. “I don’t think so,” he says. “Elio wants nothing to do with this and Giuseppe has no head for this world. He’ll take orders, stay part of the family. Be loyal to the name, whoever is in charge.”

Christian looks away for a moment, again staring vaguely into space, his mind still working. As he does, the kitchen door opens again and Nico peeks in.

“Time’s up, boss,” he says, his voice tense. He glances at me, and then at the glass of wine in my hand, and then at the baby in Christian’s arms as Christian turns towards the door, taking in the whole scene as usual.

“All right,” Christian says, giving him a nod. “Two minutes.”

“Nico, take a plate,” I say, putting my wine down and immediately moving for the trays of food.

“There’s no need, Iris,” Nico says, holding out a hand.

“It’s all here, Nico, it shouldn’t go to waste,” I murmur, already spooning food onto a gorgeous china plate for him. Part of a set that I apparently own now.

Probably a set Bianca got for her wedding.

I slop the food out onto the plate, angrier with every spoonful.

“Just take it, Nic,” Christian sighs and Nico does the same, stepping for a moment into the room.

As I finish the plate, Christian moves to me and holds the baby out. “Take her upstairs to her mom,” Christian murmurs. “And then go hang out in the room, Iris. Drink some wine, watch TV.”

“I have to put all of this away,” I protest, glancing over at the food – far too much. God, who was Bianca planning to feed tonight?

“Let it rot,” Nico says, waving a hand at it. “Who cares.”

But my mouth falls open as I stare at him, appalled.

Nico just laughs at me. “Fine, whatever,” he says, holding up his hands.

“Don’t worry too much about it, Iris,” Christian says, taking my cheek in his hand and turning my face towards him. “Just…wrap it up in tin foil and put it away and then go to bed, okay? And don’t worry about Giana or the kids or anything else – we’ll handle it. And I’ll be up later.”

“And you won’t forget about Bianca? Or Lucy?” I ask quietly – because honestly, I’d planned to check on them next.

“We won’t forget,” he says slowly. “In fact, you can leave plates out for them, if you want. We’ll take them up. They’ll appreciate that.”

I sigh, and then nod, giving in. “And then, our room is the third door?” I ask quietly, looking worriedly up into his face, wishing he’d let me do something instead of just ordering that I go lay around.

“Third door on the left,” he murmurs, leaning forward and pressing a swift kiss to my mouth. “I won’t be too late. I hope.”

I nod and Christian kisses me again like he can’t help it before he moves towards the door, towards Nico and whatever the hell it is they’re doing tonight. I sigh as they leave, looking down at the baby who is nearly done her bottle.

“Okay, Caterina,” I whisper, holding her tight against my chest. “Let’s get you back to your mommy.” And then I start up the stairs, carrying the once-princess back to her mother, the deposed queen.

Wondering quietly if all of the wives of conquering heroes feel this helpless.