Page 61 of Great White
Stefania looks down at her food. It’s getting cold and has barely been touched.
“You know you are important to me,Palomita. But like I said before, I have many things and people to consider. If merging with Raffi can make us stronger and make our lives easier, then why not do it?”
“Because he is a menacing psychopath who doesn’t care about honor. He just cares about destroying you. If pride wasn’t his problem, Marco wouldn’t have to give you an ultimatum. You could be together and grow the Deltoros and the Rayases. But he wants to wipe your family legacy from the face of the Earth, and he’ll do it. Marco’s love can’t protect you from a bullet.”
“So what do you suggest?”
“Leave Marco. Find someone who doesn’t come with ultimatums.”
Stef’s eyes glisten with tears. “I am tired of sacrificing everything for this life.”
“I know I’m asking a lot.” I reach across the table and take her hand.
“You are asking for everything.” Stefania refuses to cry, but I know how much this request is killing her. It’s killing me. I wish there was another way, but I know in my heart of hearts the minute Stefania gives in to Raffi, we are all dead. She and Marco can never be together. Not completely. Not purely. And doesn’t she deserve at least that?
“I’m asking you to consider it. I’m asking you to really think about it. Are you truly prepared to take that risk just to be with Marco?”
“Sometimes you have to risk everything for love.”
I sigh. I don’t think there is any reasoning with her. She is too far gone and too madly in love to think clearly. I’m coming to realize there is a void inside Stefania, and Marco is the only one who can fill it. No matter the cost.
I am losing this war. I can see clearly what side Stef is going to take, and it’s the wrong one. But there is no convincing her. I feel a part of myself detach like an iceberg off the shoreline. Drifting through cold waters with an uncharted destination.
After a very unsuccessful brunch, I climb up the stairs of my apartment building like there are rocks tied to my ankles. It feels like my whole world is unraveling. There’s no anchor anymore, and I don’t know what to do about it.
As I pull open the stairwell door holding my shoes, I find an unexpected visitor sitting in front of my apartment at the end of the hall. For some reason when my eyes fall on his, a small sense of relief strokes my worries away.
When I reach my door, Tate stands and removes his Stetson, holding it over his heart.
“Fancy meeting you here,” I quip.
“I know it’s unexpected, but I wanted to surprise you.”
“Is there a special occasion I don’t know about?” I insert the key and turn.
“Is ‘I just wanted to see you’occasion enough?” He winces cutely.
I push open the door, gesturing for him to enter. “It is today.”
Once inside, Tate stands in the kitchen as I grab two bottles of water. I’m feeling a little tipsy from all the mimosas, and the hangover from champagne is never a fun one.
I hand Tate the bottle, and he looks at me funny. He’s been hawking me since the moment he saw me.
“What?” I ask uncomfortably.
He does a little pouty thing with his lips. “Nothing. It’s just you look different.” He cracks open the bottle and pours some water into his mouth.
“Different?” I look down and remember what I’m wearing. “Oh? You don’t like it?”
Tate nearly chokes. “No, it’s not that at all. You look . . .” He nods without finishing the sentence.
“I look like a . . . schoolteacher? A nun? A soccer mom?”
“No, none of those. Not even close. You’re showing way too much cleavage for a soccer mom.”
“Hey, I have seen plenty of slutty soccer moms.”
“You don’t look like that either.” Tate puts his water on the counter and steps closer to me. “You just look like you. It kind of reminds me of the drive we took to Oklahoma when you put on that yellow sundress and talked with a sexy-ass southern accent.
