Cross

16

Roman

I've done irreversible damage.

When I raised my fist at her, she recoiled. Eyes shut and muscles tensed waiting for the impact. Part of me is satisfied that she's so scared, another regrets everything I've done to make her fear me like that.

I'm perch on a chair in my office. My right knuckle stings from where I punch the side of my mansion like it's a fucking punching bag. The skin is broken and it's currently an ugly shade of green and purple. The thought of her alone with Xavier had be seething with, first worry that he'll hurt her, then jealous because she was alone with another man.

When did I become such a Neanderthal?

I have a shit ton fuck of paperwork to do but my mind won't focus on the task in front of me. All I can think about is her.

Winter, Winter, Winter. The most addictive drug in my possession, my own fucking wife. Her eyes her hair to the swell of her breasts. Her pink lips and the taste of her mouth. Because of her I'm always walking around with a semi hard on.

The door to my office opens - the only people who would enter without knocking are my brothers. As expected, Arthur walks into the room with a scowl.

"Your shipments haven't reached their destinations in Baja California." He grumbles, moving towards the mini bar. He grabs himself a tumbler and pours the strongest cognac on the shelves. "And the driver who was supposed to pick it up didn't make it to the port." He sips his drink and sinks into the sofa.

"They've taken the usual route through García's waters." I say, "We've never had issues before."

"No, we didn't." Arthur retorts mockingly, "Until you didn't show up to the meeting in Baja California."

Fuck.

"That look tells me you completely forgot about it." He states, "You were too busy playing house husband weren't you?" His tone is full of accusations and displeasure.

"Careful," I warn him narrowing my eyes. He's my brother but no one gets to use that tone with me. "I'm still the Head."

Arthur averts his eyes and focus on his drink, "you can't deny that I'm wrong." He sighs and stands shoving his hands into his pocket, "No shows at the clubs or the casinos. Not even the birthdays of your own men. No attendance at galas, only massive donations. You've been MIA."

"I haven't." I deny but deep down, he's hit the nail on the head.

Winter has all my attentions. I don't leave this house because of her. My work gets brought to me, meetings held in my home office. I've locked us away in a safe haven where the world can't touch us. Where nothing can bother us.

Arthur has seen right through me.

"You've been too focused on her." Arthur sneers, "Why don't you just kill her already? Put us all out of our misery."

I feel a dangerous headache making itself known on the side of my temple. God, I heard the same words everyday from Xavier and now him too.

"I'm dealing with her."

"That's all you ever say." He scoffs. He move towards my desk and glares, "Call García and make amends."

"I'm not calling García." I snap, "the Albanians," I remind him, "We're their main fucking suppliers and if we lose to them, we lose to the Sicilian monsters in New York." No doubt those Italian fuckers would swarm the Albanians like moth to a fucking flame.

"What do you suggest oh great Lord?"

His fucking ridicules are starting to piss me off. Though, I deserve it because I haven't exactly been taking my role seriously since I let Winter out of her cell.