By Fate I Conquer (Sins of the Fathers #4)(90)

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.”

“My mother does her own toe nails so I can’t really see why you can’t. She’s a Capo’s wife. You’re not.”

“Your mother’s…” She trailed off, obviously thinking better than to insult my mother in front of me. She gave me a sugary smile. “You’re as good as Capo. Your father can’t do it forever.” She took another sip of her champagne. She was probably hoping for his early death just so she could finally rise up to ultimate glory.

She inched one shoulder up in a careless shrug. “I suppose now that you’re here we might as well spend some quality time together.”

I looked around the room with its too plush sofa in an ugly lilac, the frilly cushions with the flower pattern. The white high gloss wood furniture with golden brackets topped by the Versace logo. This place was as foreign to me as it had been the first time I’d set foot inside of it. “When did we ever spend quality time together, Cressida?”

Every single of our encounters had been filled with arguments, guilt trips, punishing silence or angry sex.

She didn’t say anything, only regarded her feet critically, as if their lack of nail polish was more important than the dismal state of our marriage.

“This marriage has been doomed from the moment you forced me into it. We should have never gotten married.”

Cressida finally raised her gaze from her nails and smiled triumphantly. “But we are.”

I stared into her eyes, feeling absolutely nothing. I wasn’t even sure if they were blue or green or gray. I’d never looked into them long enough to determine their exact color.

I didn’t hate her, definitely didn’t like or even love her. She was completely inconsequential for me. “That’s what I wanted to talk to you about.”

Confusion then incredulity flashed across her face. “What are you saying?”

“We’re getting a divorce.”

She froze, then she laughed haughtily. “You can’t divorce me, then you won’t become Capo.”

My expression became harder. “I’ll become Capo.”

She stumbled to her feet. “The Traditionalists won’t accept you! They’ll side with my father. You’re going to be nothing without me!”

“They can accept me or feel my wrath.”

“You won’t divorce me,” she whispered, shaking her head. “You can’t. There are rules, traditions. You took my innocence out of wedlock and there are consequences for such an act.”

I stalked toward her. “Stop playing the victim. You and I had very enjoyable, consensual sex. I never said anything about marrying you, never pretended to even like you. You decided to have sex with me out of wedlock, so you, too, have to accept the consequences. So far only I had to pay the price, now it’s your turn. And if I see it right, you’re still not going to pay the price because nobody will know we had sex before we married.”

“I’ll have to live in shame because you divorced me!”

“You’ll get about fifty million dollars of compensation for less than two years of marriage. That’s a good deal if you ask me, especially when I consider the 10 million dollars you already spent in the meantime.”

I could see her mind working behind her eyes and suddenly the anger dropped from her face and her expression became pitiful, her lower lip trembling. “Amo,” she simpered, running her palms over my chest. She looked up at me through her lashes. “You can’t do this to me. I’m your wife.”