“And kissing him two nights ago?”
Heat floods my cheeks. “Don’t.”
“I’m just saying?—”
“The point is, I don’t need that drama. Neither does Austin.” I thought about telling Alessio the truth when I realized he was my boss. His attitude made me hesitate. Now I’m glad. If he’s really mixed up in criminal shit, I don’t want that anywhere near my son.
“You think Quinn’s part of it too?”
“Paolo’s definitely involved. He’s got this edge, you know? Like violence is always an option. But then he was so sweet with the kids at the aquarium.” The contradiction gnaws at me. “Quinn said he was a good man.”
Can someone be genuinely kind and still be a killer?
“People are complicated,” Keshia says. “But Alessio’s still a dick.”
I laugh, but it tastes bitter. If I only looked at the last few days, I’d agree. But I can’t forget that night seven years ago. The unexpected gentleness. The way he made me laugh. The connection that felt real.
I’m doing it again. Building fairy tales around scraps of kindness. Foster care 101: when someone shows you who they are, believe them.
“I’m not telling him about Austin. Ever.”
Saying it out loud feels like locking a door and throwing away the key. Austin stays mine. Safe. Untouchable.
Keshia nods as we reach the childcare room. Austin bounces over with his drawing, beaming as he shows me what looks like a colorful explosion with stick limbs.
“It’s Spider-Man!”
My heart melts. “It’s perfect. Fridge gallery, here we come.”
Austin’s masterpiece joins the growing collection on our refrigerator. He studies it with the satisfaction of Michelangelo, then announces he wants to watchSpider-Man: Into the Spider-Verse.
I settle beside him on our threadbare couch, pulling him close. His warmth against my side and his delighted giggles at the opening credits ease the tension I’ve been carrying.
While he’s absorbed in the movie, I reach for my sketchpad from the side table. Drawing has been my escape since foster care. When the world got too loud, too harsh, too much, I could disappear into pencil and paper. Never had formal training, but it centers me like nothing else can.
I start sketching Austin’s profile as he watches, capturing the way his dark hair falls across his forehead, the intense concentration in his expression. He looks so much like Alessio it terrifies me sometimes. The same eyes, the same stubborn set to his jaw when he's focused.
After what I learned about Alessio’s world, I know keeping them apart is the right choice. Austin deserves safety. Stability. Not the kind of danger that clings to men like Alessio.
My pencil moves across the page, shading my little boy’s cheek. This is what matters. These quiet moments. His laughter. His art on the fridge. This is the life I’m fighting to protect.
Tuesday evening arrives too quickly, and I’m back at the club for another shift. Weeknights mean smaller crowds and fewer tips, but I can stretch a dollar when I need to.
I slip through the back entrance but head to the front bar first. Unlimited soft drinks are one of the few perks of working here. We’re banned from alcohol on shift, which is fine by me. Getting drunk in six-inch heels sounds like a fast track to the ER.
I’m mentally rehearsing the new routine I worked out during my days off. Katie gave me intel about repeat customers. Apparently the same lonely locals come in every week, some multiple times.Want their tips? Keep things fresh.
I spent hours online researching songs and moves. Tonight’s jade split is uncharted territory, but I practiced until I could nail it without eating shit.
I’m so focused on the routine that I’m already at the bar before I notice Alessio at the far end.
He’s not alone.
The woman draped over him is magazine-perfect. Platinum hair, golden skin, teeth so white they probably glow in the dark. She’spressed against him like a second skin, blue eyes sparkling as they murmur in low voices.
Jealousy burns through me, hot and acidic. Two nights ago his hands were in my hair, his mouth claiming mine like he couldn’t get enough, setting every nerve ending on fire.
Of course, he made it crystal clear afterward that he regretted it. Couldn’t even look at me when he pawned me off on someone else. Still, seeing him with her feels like swallowing glass.
