The Tyrant (Banker #3)(65)

I bowed my head as I considered it. “She gave me an ultimatum. I asked her to marry me, and she gave me a fucking ultimatum.”

“Because she knows what kind of life she wants. You have to agree on that before you spend your lives together.”

“I don’t appreciate being told what to do,” I snapped. “I don’t appreciate her calling the shots and deciding what happens with us. I’m the one in control. I’m the provider. I’m the man.”

He shook his head slightly. “That might work with other women, but it won’t work with Siena—and that’s why you love her. You’re sharing the power with her. That’s what a marriage is. You’re going to have to accept that if you want to keep her. She’s not trying to emasculate you. She’s just trying to protect her kids. You need to drop your ego and realize you’re going to have to compromise every single day for the rest of your life.”

I never compromised. I always got what I wanted. I was always the one in charge—because that guaranteed that everything would go my way. Now this woman had made me fall in love with her, and she’d asked me to turn my back on my entire way of life. She asked me to give up my company and turn to a quiet existence. Maybe it was just a job to her, but it was my entire identity. I was the richest and more fearsome man in Italy. Now I would just be… a man.

“All that matters is this—you love her. You can’t live without her. The three of you are a family. So just give her what she wants. You can either cave and be happy…or be stubborn and be miserable for the rest of your life.”





24





Siena





Martina hadn’t calmed down since we started living alone.

She missed her father all the time.

It was incredibly sweet, but also heartbreaking.

I missed our old home. I missed Cato. I missed the life we used to have…as a family.

But Cato continued to refuse me.

After breakfast that morning, I hurried upstairs when I heard Martina crying. I barely made it to her crib before I had to take a detour and rush to the bathroom. I suddenly felt sick to my stomach, and just as I reached the toilet, I threw up.

My breakfast came up, and once the food was out of my stomach, I felt better.

Must have been the eggs.

When I remembered the last time I was sick like this, I leaned against the wall and nearly lost my breath. I’d been sick every morning until the realization hit me—that I was pregnant. Without even taking a pregnancy test, I knew the truth. “Why does Cato always get me pregnant…?” For a brief moment, I was happy, imagining having a son in his likeness. But then I remembered the situation we were in…and we weren’t even together.

Martina saved my life, and maybe our second baby would save our relationship. Even when we tried to get away from away each other, our daughter bound us together. Now it was happening again.

I stayed in the bathroom and listened to my daughter cry in the other room. I knew she was just being fussy, so I stayed on the ground and tuned her out. I knew Cato would be happy when I told him the news, and maybe he would be happy enough to give me what I wanted.

Or maybe it would make no difference at all.

My phone rang in my back pocket, so I pulled it out and checked the screen.

It was a number I didn’t recognize.

I answered it. “This is Siena.”

“Hey, Siena.” His deep voice was innately powerful, holding authority without having to earn it. “It’s Crow Barsetti.”

I hadn’t spoken to him in a year. During our last conversation, I was still trying to figure out how to capture Cato. He was the one who got me the job as Cato’s art collector. “Hey…how are you? It’s been a while.”

“I’m good,” he answered. “We just celebrated Crow Jr.’s second birthday.”

“Aww…that’s nice.” Now that I had my own daughter, I understood how wonderful it was to have children.

“How are you?” he asked. “I’ve noticed that you and Cato have…settled down.”

“We did…but we recently broke up.”

“Really?” he asked. “Even though you have a daughter?”

“It’s a long story…”

“I have the time if you do.”

“Well…” I told him Cato wouldn’t give up his life in the criminal underworld so I was left on my own. I also mentioned my father. “I was able to bury my father with my mother. Cato made that happen…so I’m eternally grateful.”

“That is nice. I never had the opportunity to bury my parents, only my sister.”

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay,” he said. “It was a long time ago. About Cato…I understand it’s hard for a man to walk away from something he built with his own hands. It defines him as a man, gives him power. It’s addictive…to walk into a room and know you’re the most powerful man there. There’s no man in the world who doesn’t get off on that feeling. To give all that up…for the unknown…would be hard for anyone.”

“So, I’m being unrealistic?”

“Not at all,” he said. “You’re right about everything. It’s not about if, but when. Someone will try to hurt Cato, and the best way to do that is to hurt you and your kids. Preferably, your kids. If he wants to protect his family, hanging up the towel is his only option.”