My Husband Called Me Useless, Now a Mafia Don Owes Me His Life novel · Chapter 3 of 24

Chapter 3: Mrs. Rensselaer, Unwell

Carson arrives at midnight with a form to commit his wife, and Ada plays her video on the study television in front of Rocco's men. Rocco orders an audit of Carson's firm, and Carson whispers in her ear: does he know who you are?

Carson was at the gate before midnight.

I watched from the window of the east wing guest room as his silver car stopped behind the iron bars.

He got out holding an umbrella and a folder.

He had put on his good navy coat, the one he wore to funerals and client lunches.

Tullio went down to let him in himself.

That was the first thing I noticed.

Rocco's brother walked across the wet courtyard with his hand already out.

I went downstairs.

By the time I reached the hall, Carson was standing on the marble with his coat dripping and his face arranged into worry.

"Ada," he said. "Thank God."

He crossed the floor with his arms open.

I stepped back, and Gia stepped between us.

"Mr. Rensselaer," Rocco said from the study door. "It's after midnight."

"Rocco, I'm so sorry." Carson lowered his arms and turned to him. "My wife isn't herself. She's been under a lot of strain for months. She has episodes."

"Episodes," Rocco said.

"She's been seeing someone. I didn't want to embarrass her." He lifted the folder. "I brought a voluntary evaluation form. If she signs, a car can take her to a quiet place tonight. She'll be looked after."

His voice was soft and reasonable.

It was the same voice he used on clients when he told them a loss was a long-term gain.

"She turned up at your gate with my pistol," he said. "I'm only glad nobody was hurt."

Tullio put a hand on Carson's shoulder.

"Of course," he said. "You did right to come. Rocco, he's worried sick."

"He looks it," Gia said.

Nobody laughed.

I waited until Carson finished.

Then I said, "Gia, is there a screen in the study?"

"There's a television," Gia said.

"I need it."

Carson's smile slipped a quarter of an inch.

"Ada, sweetheart, you don't need to show anyone anything."

"Yes, I do," I said.

Rocco looked at me for a moment and stepped aside.

We all went into the study.

It was a long room with a wall of dark books and a television over the fireplace.

Six of Rocco's men stood along the back wall.

I plugged my phone into the cable on the desk with my own hand, because I wasn't going to let anyone else touch it.

Then I pressed play.

The screen filled with my bedroom.

Daphne in my gray cashmere robe.

Carson on my side of the bed.

"When are you telling her?" Daphne asked from the television.

"When it suits me," Carson's voice said. "She won't fight it. She has no money of her own, no friends and no name worth using."

Nobody in the study moved.

"She'll walk out with her coat and nothing else."

The clip ran on until I said his name.

Then it stopped, and the screen went black.

I could hear the rain on the window.

Carson looked at the screen for a long moment.

"That's been edited," he said.

"It hasn't," I said.

"Rocco." He turned, and the voice was still smooth, but it had gone thin at the edges. "You know me. I've handled your family's money for four years. You can't take a domestic dispute and..."

"Four years," Rocco said.

"Yes."

"You told your wife, in her own bedroom, that she had no name worth using."

"That's private. It has nothing to do with the firm."

"It has to do with the man I let sit at my father's table," Rocco said.

He said it without raising his voice.

Carson heard it anyway.

"I'm not a violent man," Rocco went on. "You know that about me. But I've never liked men who talk that way about the woman in their house."

"Rocco, she's not well."

"She told me what's in my food," Rocco said. "She told me before I'd told anyone I was ill. Tell me, Mr. Rensselaer, how unwell is that?"

Carson's mouth opened and closed.

"My accounts will be audited by another firm by Friday," Rocco said. "Gia will send you the letter."

"You can't," Carson said. "The trust is structured. I'm the only one who knows..."

"Then you'll explain it to the auditors."

Tullio took a step forward.

"Brother," he said gently. "Let's not be hasty. Carson's done a great deal for us, and he's had a shock. Give it a few days."

"It's after midnight," Gia said. "Let him go home."

Rocco looked at his brother for a beat longer than I liked.

"Walk him out," he said to the guards. "He leaves his folder."

The men took Carson by the elbows.

He shook one of them off and straightened his coat with both hands.

Then he looked at me for the first time since he had come in.

He didn't look angry.

He looked afraid.

He walked toward the door, and as he passed me he leaned close.

"Does he know who you are?" he whispered.

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