But for two very different reasons.
He’s on pins and needles to be part of this deal, eager to prove to Sasha that he’s not the screwup our brother paints him to be.
My nerves, on the other hand, have everything to do with the woman who will be arriving any minute now.
Kostya nudges me. “You’re smiling.”
“No, I’m not.”
“You are. It’s creepy.”
I smack the back of his head. He laughs.
Truth is, I am smiling. I feel like a damn child waiting for a gift he doesn’t deserve. Stella always had that effect on me—turning all my carefully coiled control inside out with a single look, a single laugh, a single snarky reply.
So when headlights turn into the lot, slicing through the snow, my pulse kicks.
“That must be Stella,” Frankie says, waving at the car.
The car rolls to a stop a few rows away, and the world narrows to that windshield.
But instead of the wild red hair I was expecting to see, all I see is the short blond hair of her older brother.
Marcello Romano steps out of the car and strides towards us. My jaw tightens, irritation scraping over the remnants of happiness in my chest.
Frankie’s voice cuts through the cold when Marcello reaches us.
“Marcello?” she says, confused. “What are you doing here?”
“I’m your ride.”
My jaw ticks in aggravation.
Why the hell is he picking up my niece?
And where the hell is Stella?
I watch his gaze flick to me and Kostya, and I recognize the disdain instantly. The feeling is mutual. Once he’s done sizing up Kostya, his eyes land on me, his contempt multiplying at what he finds.
I let a slow, knowing smirk stretch across my face just to piss him off more.
“Marcello Romano.” I drawl his name like a mild insult. “Didn’t think I’d ever see you at my club.”
His response is as stiff as expected. “Wasn’t my plan either. A decent uncle would’ve driven his niece home.”
I suppress my anger at his remark and force myself to widen my already cocky grin.
“Never claimed to be decent.”
Frankie quickly cuts in, sensing the tension between us. “Uncle, be nice.”
I soften immediately at the anxiety in her voice.
“Only for you,plemyannitsa.” I offer her a warm smile. “Besides, we both know I would have driven you to the moon and back if you asked. I just had… something come up.”
“It’s okay. It’s my fault for dropping by without calling you first. Maybe we can have a family dinner this weekend? My place. I’ll cook.”
“You’ve got yourself a deal.”
