Fix You (The Irish Rogues #3)

Chapter Twenty Five Raphael

W hen we got to New York, Maeve’s mood seemed even more elevated than when we got off the phone with Dare. I’d been worried that the altercation with Callum might trigger her PTSD. After all, he’d been her knight-in-shining-armor through all the trauma with Oisin. On the flight, I’d had her text Dr. Leighton to set up a emergency session

I couldn’t imagine what she was feeling. If there had ever been a time when I’d considered a therapist, it was now when my world seemed to be such a paradox of highs and lows.

But it wasn’t just my problems I needed to talk to someone about–it was also Maeve.

How could I ever be worth the sacrifice she was making? Although I wanted to believe Callum would come around, it worried me that if he didn’t, Maeve might grow to resent me.

On the way to my penthouse, she asked, “Can we go out for dinner tonight?”

I chuckled. “You aren’t tired?”

“I’m sure I’ll collapse tomorrow, but I feel energized right now. Besides, I’ll need to be back in Dublin for my classes on Tuesday, so I want to have the best time with you while I can.”

I leaned over and kissed her lips. “Your wish is my command.”

Her green eyes glittered with happiness. “I love you.”

“And I love you.”

When we got to the penthouse, Maeve went straight to the shower. Although I’d faced one adversary, there was one more to go. After I went out on the balcony, I dialed Caruso.

“Rafe, so good of you to call. My wife hasn’t received the invitation list from your side for the engagement party.”

After sucking in an agonized breath, I said, “Edoardo, I’m very sorry, but none of us will be attending the engagement party.”

“Should we move the date?”

“No, it has nothing to do with that.”

“Then what is it?”

“I’m so very sorry, but I can’t marry Drea.”

Silence came over the line. When Edoardo finally spoke, he said, “I’m sure I just misunderstood what you just said. I know a man of honor such as yourself wouldn’t be calling two weeks from an engagement party to tell me he could no longer abide by his end of a business deal.”

Pinching my eyes shut, I shook my head. “I’m in love with someone else. I almost lost her today, and I can’t bear to think of living one moment more without her.”

Edoardo’s maniacal laughter filled my ears. “Is that all? Raphael, I don’t care if you’re faithful to Drea. That wasn’t part of our contract. For fuck sake, I’ve never been faithful to my wife a day in my life. I’ve even got a kid over in Hoboken I support. Fucker looks just like my other sons.”

My skin crawled at the sleaziness of his reply. There was no way in hell Maeve was going to be a mistress I kept, and any children we had would be born within our marriage, not as bastards I kept hidden away.

“I don’t intend to keep her as a mistress. I want her to be my wife, and I intend to marry her.”

“You can’t be serious.”

“I am.

“No one breaks a contract with me,” he replied in a lethal voice.

“I have to.”

“You’re actually going to walk away from our lucrative deal for that Kavanaugh cunt?”

Red criss crossed before my eyes. “Don’t you dare fucking call her that!” And then it hit me. How did he know I was talking about Maeve? “Have you been spying on me?”

“Since we signed the contract, I’ve made it my business to know everything about you and your whereabouts. Although you were spending a hell of a lot of time with her, I didn’t think it was anything truly serious.”

“Well, it is. I’m going to spend the rest of my life with her.”

“Not if I have a say in it.”

I gripped the phone tighter in my hand. “Is that a threat?”

“It’s a fact. You will not dishonor my daughter and my family by calling off this engagement.”

“Hear me when I say that I will not marry Drea.”

“You’ll change your mind.”

“I can assure you that I won’t.”

“I look forward to seeing you in two weeks.”

And with those words, he hung up on me. Growling, I whirled around and threw my phone. As it smacked into the wall beside the bedroom, Maeve appeared in the doorway wrapped in a towel.

Frowning, she glanced at the cracked screen before lifting her gaze to mine. “Was that Callum?”

I shook my head. “Caruso.”

Fear flashed in Maeve’s eyes. “What did he say?”

“You don’t need to now.”

“That bad, huh?”

“Yes. But I expected it to be.”

As she closed the distance between us, Maeve appeared to be weighing her words carefully. When she stood before me, she tentatively put her hand on my chest. “I don’t know how to say this without angering you.”

“I don’t like the sound of this.”

“I don’t like having to say it.” A shaky breath escaped her lips. “I think you need to seek some help for anger management.”

“Excuse me?” I questioned. That was certainly not what I expected to come out of her mouth.

“I worry about the way you handle your anger. You fly off the handle and throw things.”

“That’s because I'm a Sicilian underworld leader,” I tossed back.

“I’m serious, Rafe.”

“Surely your brothers lose their tempers.”

She nodded. “But I’m not dating them.”

“Maeve–”

She held her hand up. If this goes the way I think it will, how do I know you won’t react the same way with me if I anger you?”

Scowling, I replied, “Because I would never lay a hand on a fucking woman.”

“I know you wouldn’t hit me. I’m just talking about your temper.”

Whirling away from her, I turned my gaze back to the windows. My chest rose and fell in harsh breaths. I didn’t like feeling so raw in front of her. I was the one who was supposed to be strong for her. I didn’t need any deficits that made me weak.

“You could talk to Dr. Leighton,” she suggested.

My skin grew tight, shrinking over my bones and muscles. In my world, men who needed therapy were weak. How could I be strong and lead my men if I was a weakling? If word got out, I’d be ruined.

“It’s not such a bad thing to share what’s bothering you,” Maeve said softly.

“How the fuck can I explain my life to a shrink without incriminating myself?”

“You can talk about your anger without telling her everything. Lots of men have anger issues.”

Throwing a glance over my shoulder, I said, “Want me to pretend to be a trash collector like Tony Soprano.”

“Who is that?”

A chuckle burst from my lips at the absurdity of the question in such a serious moment. “He was a TV mobster who went to therapy and lied about who he really was.”

“Oh,” she murmured. After hitching the towel tighter against her, Maeve said, “Regardless of what you say or don’t say, I still think it would be a good idea.”

Staring into her eyes, I thought about the altercation with Callum earlier. I thought about the sacrifices she was making. “This Dr. Leighton,” I began.

“Yes?”

“I would want her to sign an NDA.”

She nodded. “She did with me.”

“Does she know who you are?”

“In this day and age, how could she not? One google search of my name, and you know everything, even what is speculated.”

As I drew her against me, I asked, “You don’t think it would be a conflict of interest for me to talk to your therapist.”

“Why?”

“Maybe she’ll have a negative view of me if we have a fight and you blame me.”

The corners of her lips quirked. “Of course she would know I was in the right and you were in the wrong.”

Chuckling, I replied, “Easy now.”

“If you want, I can have her recommend someone.”

With a grimace, I replied, “The more I think about it, the more I’d like an Italian man.”

“I didn’t think you’d be that sexist.”

“It’s more about a man understanding male emotions. And the Italian part of him would get it even more.”

She shrugged. “Fine. Whatever makes you comfortable.”

“Good.” My fingers found the edge of the towel. With a quick jerk, it fell from Maeve’s body.

She stared up at me in surprise. “Even after those times on the plane?”

“I told you I’m insatiable when it comes to you.” At her hesitation, I frowned. “But if you’re sore or not feeling it, we don’t have to.”

“No, it’s nothing like that. I was just a little surprised. All the other times I thought it was because we’d been separated.” A pleased smile curved on her pouty lips. “I didn’t realize how desirable I was to you.”

“Oh, Tesoro, you have no fucking idea.”

“One round and then you better take me somewhere nice. I don’t want to think I’m just around for sex.”

“That could never be. You mean too much to me, and I love you too much.”

She reached between us to take my cock in her hands. “Then you can have me.”

“My pleasure,” I replied with a wicked grin.