Luca’s expression sobers. “Got it. I’ll keep working the angle.”
He heads back to his table, and Matteo disappears to do another security sweep. I finish my drink and head to my office, themuffled thump of bass fading behind the closed door. I pull Nina’s employment file from the cabinet in the corner—Starla insists on keeping paper records, old school but effective.
I save Nina’s number in my phone, telling myself it’s just for emergencies. Professional reasons only.
Who the fuck am I kidding?
Just like I lied to myself about being able to fool around with Nina again without it meaning anything. That was bullshit then, and this is bullshit now.
For the first time in my life, I actually give a damn about a woman. And that scares me more than any enemy I’ve ever faced.
19
NINA
“Mommy, can I have a little brother?”
I nearly choke on my water. Austin and I have been playing Chutes and Ladders for the past hour, during which he’s peppered me with his usual stream of consciousness questions. “Why do giraffes have long necks?” “Can wolves talk to dogs?” “What makes people fall in love?”
That last one surprised a laugh out of me. Turns out he saw it on some cartoon where a cat declared his love for a can of tuna. My fish-hating six-year-old can’t wrap his head around it.
But this question? This one stops me cold.
“Did you hear me?” He flicks the spinner and moves his piece up a ladder, putting himself miles ahead of me on the board. “I want a little brother like James has.”
James is his best friend from kindergarten, and with any luck, they’ll be in the same class when first grade starts this fall.
“It’s not that simple, bud.” I take my turn and immediately slide down a chute, sealing my inevitable defeat. “I can’t just make a brother appear out of thin air.”
“It would have to grow in your belly first, right?”
I nod, already seeing where this is headed.
“But how does it get?—”
“Look!” I point frantically at the spinner. “You can win!”
Austin gasps and moves his piece to the finish line. I make a big production of celebrating his victory, clapping and cheering until he’s too distracted to continue his line of questioning. Thank God for small victories—I’m nowhere near ready for that conversation. We’re setting up another game when my phone buzzes.
The text is from a number I don’t recognize, but when I open it, I nearly drop the phone.
How do you feel today? -A
Alessio.
I stare at the message, reading it twice to make sure I’m not hallucinating. Why would my boss be checking on me? Last night he was brutal for me. Gentle after. But this? A text asking how I feel? That feels personal in a way we haven’t defined yet.
And if it’s personal, I can’t keep pretending the secret I carry doesn’t matter. The closer he gets, the harder it will be to keep him out.
Finally, I type back a simple response telling him I’m okay. It’s true enough.
I set the phone aside, but I can’t stop thinking about it. About him.
Eric’s anger was always a weapon pointed at me. Every blow meant to break me. Alessio’s fury burned different. It wasn’t against me; it was for me.
He made sure I was okay. He walked me to my car. He showed me glimpses of the man I remembered from seven years ago.
When he was treating me like garbage, acting like he didn’t remember our night together, it was easy to justify keeping Austin away from him. But if he keeps showing me this softer side, if he breaks down the walls I’ve built...
