Now, I have the luxury of time.
I can wait, watch, and let Sergio lead me to the people he’d otherwise try to protect. Looking over my staff, I select the best men for the job. In a fit of caution, I also assign another few men to observe those men.
I hate this. Hate not being able to trust the people I’ve let into my life. Shared my business and my rewards with. All of them tarred with Antonio’s brush.
It doesn’t take long to look over the other updates. Once this current catastrophe is past, I’ll have to dig deep for a couple of weeks to ensure the rest of my business can retain its ground.
The thought does little to buoy my mood.
Part of me envies Micah. Despite his recent troubles, his age and rapid ascent through the syndicate have given him money and power that few men ever achieve. At only twenty-six, that must be a heady combination.
Eight years ago, when I was his age, my life was entirely different. Alice and I were casually dating, neither one of us wanting anything along the lines of commitment. Business was booming and everything was still new, shiny. Each fresh win a triumph.
I had no idea how much I was missing. No idea how deep emotions could run.
When Alice showed me her pregnancy test, I think she wanted me to push her towards an abortion. Certainly, she wasn’t happy when I picked her up and spun her in a circle, unable to contain my excitement. Her resentment grew as I shut down every reason—most of them persuasive—we had to ensure we never brought a child into this mad world.
She fell in with my plans because that’s what people do. Even when they don’t, not really. I bulldozed over every expression of fear, regret, uncertainty. Kept insisting that any concern could be dismissed as hormones.
Part of that was fear. The genuine fear that she would take this joy away from me. Until her belly swelled with the unmistakeable signs of the pregnancy, I held onto a worry that she might already have done something. Taken care of it and then lost the courage to let me know.
A stupid idea. When had Alice ever been afraid to tell me anything? Ever felt the need to hide something from me?
She had dumped every niggle about the pregnancy and her impending motherhood straight onto me. My nightly reassurances became a mantra to ward off trouble.
In the end, the only trouble was us trying to pretend that we were a couple when we were just two people who didn’t want the same things any longer.
If we ever had at all.
I bring up the footage from Sophia’s nursery, scanning through the past few hours, eyes alert for trouble. The doctor has warned me there’ll be tantrums on the way once my daughter feels safe enough to express her emotions. Followed by the tangle of not knowing what to do with such big feelings.
Being my offspring won’t help with that at all. The first thing I learned after losing my parents was that you keep that shit locked up, way down deep. Otherwise, other children, other adults, will see and use it to hurt you further.
Now I couldn’t have an emotional reaction to those memories if I tried.
If those storm clouds are on their way, it’s not evident in Sophia’s mannerisms. She seems full of laughter and energy, taking Isabelle on a whirlwind tour of everything she holds dear in toyland.
Yuri enters and Sophia stands him in front of Isabelle. I cut the fast forward and toggle the sound to hear the recording.
“Now, you need to get married.”
I sit upright, frowning. Isabelle seems perfectly content to hear out my daughter’s mad suggestions. So does Yuri. All six feet five inches of him. Muscles sculpted to perfection because every waking moment he doesn’t spend working, he’s out exercising, lifting, toning. A regimen that those of us who get stuck in their office, sometimes for days on end, don’t have the freedom to pursue.
Are you seriously jealous of your own bodyguard?
Of course, not. The entire idea is ridiculous.
But just in case there is something brewing, I need to lock this woman down tonight, trauma be damned. Meri’s concerns have already fallen from my mind and I’m eager to advance things to the next level.
Then the next fake wedding my daughter officiates can be between Isabelle and me.
CHAPTERFOURTEEN
ISABELLE
For the long minutes after Yuri locks me away in my bedroom, I’d sell my soul to access the internet. I should be able to, between the smart tv and the tiny electronic fridge, there must be some way to hack my way through to a browser.
Unfortunately, I’m not smart enough to do that. I know far too much about a career I can’t have and far too little about everything else.
