Page 148 of Mafia Obsession

I’m distracted. What the hell will happen to me in New York if I can’t manage this heartache of missing my wife?

I drag myself up the ladder and step onto the deck, water dripping from my hair and shoulders. A trick of light casts a shadow against the port-side rail. The memory of Lourdes leaning against it and inviting my mouth between her thighs buckles my knees. I grab the captain’s chair, my fingers digging into the leather so hard it might tear.

I strip the gloves from my hands and head below deck for a towel and to get away from the light and shadow of what I lost. I’m oxygen-deprived. I stumble into the small sleeping quarters to change and get dry.

In the berth, a book on the narrow nightstand catches my eye. Lourdes and I spent a lot of time in this cabin, even anchored further out for an overnight trip. She had me read to her from that book, a story about vampires, while she sucked my cock.

Hands trembling, I see a page with a corner turned down. It’s that scene. I slam the book closed, and a whiff of her scent hits me.

Christ, how many things are going to try to kill me today?

I sit on the edge of the bed, breath stuttering, like her scent stole all the air from my lungs again. In the next breath, the tears come. Overflowing from eyes that are conditioned to send death stares are now filled with salty fat beads settling on my lips and tongue.

I’m fucking crying.

I don’t try to stop myself. No one is here to witness my sorrow. And I allow myself to stay like this until I’m empty. No, I’m dehydrated. I gulp down a quart of water and eat Elani’s lunch, so I don’t pass out and then motor back to the dock.

Shaking and pretending I’m fine, I toss the lines and let the crew do their job with the boat, then get in my Land Rover. My sight hazy, I can barely breathe. I want to throw up, yet I stilldrive back to the house at a dangerous speed for my condition.

I feel wrecked. I pass through the kitchen and head straight for the study, slamming the door behind me. I look at the photographs on the wall. My father, alone. Alexander, defiant and solitary. They were men who built empires but died without knowing the warmth of love.

I almost joined them today.

I had love and warmth in my bed every night. And I walked away. I don’t want the same tragedy to be my legacy.

I reach for my phone, the decision settling into my bones and rearranging the flow of blood in my veins.

“Fuel the jet,” I say when the line connects. “I’m going home.”

Chapter 62

Ares

My jet touched down in New York later than I would have liked. Turbulence and some kind of ground stop forced us to circle.

At eleven p.m., I jog down the airstairs and find my Bentley waiting, an SUV with my guards behind it. Wrath stands in front of the SUV, face expressionless behind shades even though it’s dark.

There is no warmth with the guards, and maybe that needs to change, too. Stop making them faceless shields. The ideas of how to rearrange my life and shed the dead skin of a cold snake rush at me, I need to start writing them down.

After.

After I make love to my wife.

“Welcome home, sir,” my driver says to me when I get inside the car. “I’ll have you at the Aurelian in no time.”

“No,” I say. “Bring me to Fifth Avenue.”

“Yes, sir.” At the front of my building, I step out, and Wrath follows me to the private entrance with Lust and Sloth behind him. They ride the elevator with me. Looks pass between them, tension humming off their skin.

I sense something is up.

In the vestibule, I notice the air does not smell of my wife’s perfume as it usually does. Perhaps my lungs are still filled with sea salt, and my sense of smell is compromised. That would be a shame. I need to savor the taste of her cunt.

“Lourdes?” I call out, heading to the bedroom with my duffle bag.

I’m nearly at a jog, racing down the residence wing. I stop short, seeing the door open, the room dark.

She never sleeps with the door open. As soon as my feet sink into plush carpet, I know she’s not in this bedroom. I move through the darkness to find the lamp on a table near the window and flick it on. Warm light spills onto the floor and reaches across the room.