Page 32 of From Rome, With Hate

“Take me home, Marcus. I want to leave.”

“Ms. Capuleti,” he says in a sympathetic tone, keeping a hand wrapped around his upper thigh as he limps toward me. He’s holding a cane in his other hand, stabbing it into the gravel with every step.

I stop in my tracks. “Why are you limping? And why are you using a cane?”

He waves me off, frowning and shaking his head. “Just stretched a muscle is all. I’ll be okay.”

“A limp and a cane for a stretched muscle?” I tilt my head, my attention dropping to his leg before I snap my head over my shoulder to see Rome standing at the threshold, leaning against it too casually. “Why is Marcus limping? What happened?”

An eerie chill slithers down my spine as my gaze drops back to his neck. Those purple and yellow marksarebruises.

“Wait…” It suddenly occurs to me. “Why did we take your plane here when it’s only a three-hour drive from the city?”

“Had to make sure we weren’t being followed.” Again, he states it as easily as reading the fucking dictionary.

“Why the hell would anyone be following us?” I squeeze my eyes shut, remembering all the baggage that comes with Rome Montgomery. He used to claim this was a life he wanted no role in. He lied. All he ever does is lie. “No. Don’t tell me. I’ve told you before, I don’t want to know.”

“Julianna.” I try not to let it sting that he’s calling me by my first name.

“No.” I vehemently shake my head. “I don’t want to know why we flew circles over the entire state before coming here, and I don’t want to know why Marcus is fucking limping. I just want to leave.”

I realize at this point I’m practically screaming. It’s all too much. The pain. The heartbreak. The danger. The secrets. Everything involving Rome is a secret.

I’m marching toward the car when Rome’s hand wraps around mine.

“Lark, please.” Fuck.Nowhe’s using my nickname. There are only two instances when Rome uses my nickname: when he’s eager to taunt me, or when he desperately needs something.

I have a gut feeling it’s the latter this time.

He grips me harder, but I don’t turn around. A tear slips from the corner of my eye. He’s touching me, here, surrounded by nothing but beauty and pain.

“I’ll give you the one thing you asked for the last time we were here.”

I hold my breath. Closing my eyes, I brace myself before turning around. Once I do, I crack them open and stare directly into his midnight blues.

“And what exactly is that Rome?”

He gulps, the wings on his neck dipping. His gaze drops to where we’re connected before he’s looking into my eyes again. “The divorce. I’ll give you the divorce.”

TEN

ROME

“You’re insane.” Julianna rips her hand from mine. Her cheeks are flaming red, and there are tears in her eyes.

My heart wrenches knowing I put them there, but it’s par for the course at this point, and nothing out of the ordinary between the two of us.

Those tears give me little pause, though. She’s hardly innocent in this situation. A venomous snake disguised as a gentle bird.

“I’m not the only insane person here,” I tell her, raking a frustrated hand through my hair.

“It’s been ten years, Rome.” She grinds her teeth together and points a stiff finger to the ground. “We’ve lived our separate lives, and I’ve done my best to follow through on our agreement. Now you’re dragging me backhere, to this place, offering me a divorce in exchange for redecorating a house that doesn’t need redecorating?” Her voice is shrill, disrupting the peace around us.

I don’t respond to her question. The words are lost on me as I struggle to give her a proper explanation. My plan to get Julianna away from the city, away from harm, only extended this far. The part about offering her the one thing she asked forthe last time we were here, a divorce, was my last-ditch effort in getting her to stay.

She’s boiling over with frustration. Pursing her lips, she sticks her arm out and curls her hand in my direction. “You told me you’d give me my phone back once you explained how you were going to get me to repay you. Well, you have, and now I want it back.”

“You haven’t agreed to the terms.” A lifetime of ties to the mafia and my insistence on building a business empire has taught me to never show your cards too soon.