“Amo.” Maximus shoved to his feet, running a hand over his head. He stared at me, then shook his head again. “What the fuck is wrong with you? We’re at war and you go fucking the enemy’s daughter.” He tilted his head and a hopeful smile pulled at his lips. “Or is this a devious plan to break the Camorra?”
I really wish that were the case. “No devious plan. And I’m not fucking Greta and I won’t until she’s officially mine. I won’t dishonor her.”
Maximus plopped down on the bench, utter shock on his face. “I hope this is a joke.”
I only stared at him. I knew how ludicrous it sounded.
“Have you decided if you’re going to tell my father about my betrayal? You’re his Enforcer.”
Maximus jumped to his feet and shoved my shoulders hard, catching me completely off guard. The bench tipped backwards because of my weight and I landed on my back with a groan. I didn’t bother getting up, only smiled wryly at my best friend. “I suppose that’s a yes?”
“Fuck you, you moron,” Maximus growled. “I’m going to be your Enforcer longer than I’ll be your father’s Enforcer. I won’t ever reveal your secrets, no matter how fucked up they are. I’ll follow you as my future Capo, but where the hell will you lead me and the Famiglia?”
“To peace with the Camorra.”
“No way. Not after the shitshow at your wedding. Matteo won’t agree after what happened to Isabella and Gianna. Not to mention that the Falcones are definitely holding a major grudge for how we tricked them. Peace has never been farther away.”
“I’m going to divorce Cressida and ask for Greta’s hand. I can’t keep living like this. I want Greta by my side. I’ll stop at nothing, absolutely nothing to make her mine this time.”
Maximus held out his hand and after I had accepted it, he pulled me to my feet. He gripped my forearm. “And you think she’s going to say yes this time?”
“I do.” What Greta and I had, had grown even more and I knew she regretted her past choice. Together she and I would find a way and bring peace back between the Camorra and Famiglia. There was no other option. Greta would break if she came to New York with me without her family’s approval while there was still war. “I’m going to ask her this weekend.”
“Don’t tell me where you’re meeting her. The less I know the better. Your father’s going to have me skinned if he finds out I know about this. Fuck, man.”
I patted his shoulder. “He’d have to skin me first. He’ll come around eventually.”
Maximus gave me a doubtful look.
Dad was definitely a hard nut to crack. But first I had to face a person who’d take the news even worse. “I’m heading to Cressida tonight to tell her.”
Maximus lips parted. “You have to talk to your father first.”
“I won’t ask for his permission. I made my decision and I’ll go through with it no matter what he says.” I was done asking. I would take what I wanted, something I should have done a long time ago. I wouldn’t spend the rest of my life with Cressida. She made me miserable and I knew she wasn’t happy with me either. She couldn’t possibly be happy unless human emotions didn’t matter to her at all.
Maximus blew out a long breath. The concern was clear on his face. “She won’t go quietly, Amo. Cressida has a vicious streak. This won’t be a pleasant Christmas. She’ll try to take you down with her.”
“I don’t care. This farce of a marriage ends tonight.”
When I set foot into Cressida’s townhouse—it had always felt like hers, not mine—， I knew today’s conversation wouldn’t go over well.
Cressida sat in the living room with a glass of champagne in her hand and a dark-haired Asian woman by her feet who was painting her nails.
“I’m busy,” she said when she spotted me and took another sip of her drink.
“Leave,” I told the woman. She shoved to her feet without hesitation and gathered her stuff. I handed her a one hundred dollar note as she rushed past me and she took it with a muttered thanks before she left the room.
“You’re not done!” Cressida shrieked but the woman grabbed her coat in the lobby and a moment later the front door opened and closed. My word was the one that counted, not Cressida’s. She glared at me. “What am I supposed to do about my nails now?”
“Paint them yourself?”
Her eyes widened as if she couldn’t believe the audacity. “A woman of my position shouldn’t have to do her nails.”