“I was so scared Dermot and Daniel would be the ones who’d be dragged into this when everything they’d done came to light during the investigation. I found only one way out. To tell you it was Glory.”
And he groaned with six years of heartache. “Per Dio, why? Didn’t you think what you’d be doing to her, to me? Didn’t you realize how much I loved her?”
“It was because I knew exactly how much you loved her that I did this. I knew you loved her so much you might forgive her, or at least wouldn’t be able to bring yourself to punish her, would let her get away with it—let us—let me—get away with it. And I was right. You did.”
He shook his head in disbelief. “You don’t consider breaking her heart a punishment?”
“It was her heart or my husband’s and son’s lives.”
Silence crushed down as he gazed into the woman’s drowned eyes, the pieces falling into place like hammers.
Then he said, “Then it happened again.”
Her tears ran continuously now. “They gave me the new assignment as soon as your wedding was announced. I begged them to let me go, tried to tell them that there was no way you wouldn’t be prepared this time, that you wouldn’t find out. They only said that with Glory as your wife now, it would be impossible to guard yourself, and that even if you found out, you wouldn’t be able to expose her—or rather me. They didn’t care what happened as long as they got their info. I owed them for giving them what had turned out to be useless info before. And they still owned my men. So I did it again. But I was only waiting until you caught me at it.”
“But you still left tracks leading to Glory, to take refuge in my love for her again.”
Her face crumbled. “And I was right again. Even when you thought she’d betrayed you twice, you wouldn’t have ever hurt her.”
His groan was agonized. “I already hurt her beyond what you can imagine. I’m only now beginning to realize the magnitude of the pain and damage I caused her.”
She clung to his arm, her feeble grip barely registering. “I beg you, don’t blame yourself. It was all my doing.”
He covered her hand with his. “I do and will blame myself. I loved her, should have given her the benefit of the doubt. I didn’t. And I hurt her so much she no longer wants to have anything to do with me.”
“No, Vincenzo. You’re her heart. She must only be running away to lick her wounds. She’s shocked and anguished at what I did. Don’t give up on her, I beg you.”
He hugged her gently, defusing her panic. “I would give up on life before I gave up on Glory.” He withdrew to wipe the tears of the woman he now hoped would live to see his and Glory’s children and be their grandmother for long years to come.
“Now give me names. I’ll get those people who’ve turned your lives into a living hell off your backs once and for all.”
*
Keeping his promise to Glenda had taken far longer than he could stand. Two full, unending days.
But at least it was over. He’d terminated the hold those mob bosses had over the Monaghans’ lives.
Contrary to Glenda’s belief, he wasn’t so refined that he couldn’t handle criminal scum. He’d negotiated a perfect deal with them. He’d paid more than handsomely for the lost revenue ensuing from losing some of their efficient operatives. And he’d let them know how much they’d lose, in every way, if they came after his and Glory’s family, or his work, ever again.
Now one thing remained. The only thing that mattered to him anymore in the world. Glory.
“We’ll get to her in time, Principe.”
Vincenzo gritted his teeth at Alonzo’s assurance. He didn’t know if they would. The flight taking her away to Darfur was in less than an hour. She must already be at the gate. Not that he’d let that stop him. Even if she flew away, he’d follow her. To the ends of the earth.
In minutes that passed like torturous hours, Alonzo pulled up at the airport’s departure zone. He lowered the window as Vincenzo exploded from the car, yelling after him, “Just ring when you get your princess back, Principe. I’ll be waiting to drive you back home.”
Vincenzo ran, Alonzo’s last words skewering his heart.
If he didn’t get her back, he’d never go home. He had no home to go to without her.
But then, not getting her back wasn’t an option.
He tore across the airport, only stopping to ask about Glory’s flight. It was boarding in twenty minutes.
He bought a ticket, produced his diplomatic passport and begged for security checks to be rushed so he could catch up with his runaway bride. Then he was streaking across the airport, bumping into people left and right. He’d run out of sorrys by the time he’d reached her gate.
She was standing in line, holding her boarding pass and one of those nondescript handbags of hers, looking terrible. And the most wonderful sight he’d ever seen. The only one he wanted to live his life seeing.
His heart kicked his ribs so hard it had him stumbling into another run, pushing through the line to reach her. She was so deep in her misery she only noticed the commotion he’d caused when someone bumped into her. Her eyes, his own pieces of heaven, looked up at him with a world of pain and desperation.
The drain of anxiety and the surge of relief shook his arms as he enfolded her and his voice as he groaned against her cheek, her neck, her lips, “Come home with me, amore, I beg you.”
She only went inert in his embrace.
*
Deadness crept up Glory’s body like fast-growing vines.
She welcomed its suffocation, its stability, which allowed her to stand in the circle of his arms, feeling his beloved body seeking her and enfolding her, without collapsing in a mass of misery.
It also gave her the strength to push away, even though she felt she pushed away from her life source.
She staggered a step, barely aware of the hundreds of people around, watching them. She had eyes and senses only for Vincenzo, for noticing how his hair and face were captured by the atrocious lighting of the airport, enhancing every gleam, emphasizing every jut and hollow.
A blaze of love and longing shriveled her heart. She’d been too optimistic thinking there had been a chance she’d survive this. There wasn’t.
He reached for her again, hands urgent, coaxing, moving over her back, her arms, her face, leaving each feeling forever scarred with the memory of what she’d never have again.
“Come with me, amore,” he urged again.