Genevieve placed a hand over mine, catching my attention. “You wouldn’t mind teaching me how to make them, would you?”
I gasped. “No, not at all. I’d be happy to.”
How could I say no to her?
Her face brightened. “Great. I think Christmas will be a perfect time.”
Would there even be a Michelson family Christmas after tonight? I kept waiting for a phone call, anything to let me know what was going on.
Had the fight started?
Was Seth okay?
“Have you always been a master in the kitchen?” Genevieve asked.
Bursting out with laughter, I took our empty plates and set them in the sink. “Definitely not. I didn’t start cooking until just recently.”
Her brows furrowed when I sat back at the table with her. “Did you just not like doing it? I know you’re a woman of action with all the fighting. You’re not a typical female.”
That made me smile. “No, I’m not. I’ve never been the homemaker type.” However, the real reason why I never cooked was a part of my life I never wanted to go back to. “I didn’t cook because I never got the chance to,” I said, meeting her motherly gaze.
Her head tilted to the side. “Why not?”
I didn’t want to give her a pity story, but I felt like I could tell her anything. “I didn’t grow up in a normal home,” I confessed. “I was taken away from my parents at an early age and put in the system. My meals consisted of cereal and SpaghettiOs.”
Genevieve’s lips trembled and she reached for my hands. “Oh, sweetheart, that breaks my heart. Looking at you now, you’d never know you had a hard life.”
I was thankful for the events that led me in the right direction. “I’m glad you can’t tell,” I said. “I was afraid you’d look down on me if you knew I grew up poor.”
Genevieve’s eyes hardened. “Don’t ever think that, Wren. Yes, there are people out there who will think they’re better than you, but they’re not.” She clutched my hands tighter. “What I see is a beautiful woman who makes my son happy. No one has been able to do that. You have a spark in you that I wish I had.”
The woman was unlike any other mother I’d met. It made me wonder how I would’ve been if I had a mother like her growing up. Then again, I wouldn’t be who I am today if I did. Genevieve was the opposite of me—soft-spoken and angelic—whereas I had a fiery personality and a sharp tongue. Even our looks were completely different. Genevieve’s platinum-colored hair was a stark contrast to my dark tresses. I was the dark; she was the light. I could see how she would match up with someone like Seth’s father. He needed that light of hers to balance out his dark.
Seth and I were a different story. He had both light and dark, just like I do; we were equal.
“You have a spark too, Genevieve. You’re a lot nicer than I could ever be. I can see how it draws people toward you.”
A small laugh escaped her lips. “Thank you, Wren.” She glanced around the kitchen and pointed at the extra lava cakes. “You need to ask Seth about his chef up in New York. His name is Paolo. He can make anything you could ever dream of.” When her focus landed on me again, she perked up. “Do you think you’ll ever relocate to New York?”
I could see myself visiting but couldn’t imagine my life there, not with my family and friends on the opposite side of the country.
“My life is in California,” I said, watching her face fall. “It’s where all the people I care about are. Plus, Seth and I haven’t exactly gotten that far yet.”
Genevieve waved off the notion as if it wasn’t a big deal. “Either way, I’m sure everything will work out. Seth can have his private jet get you anytime you want. Other than your fighting schedule, there’s nothing that would keep you apart. You have to work at it together.”
She made it sound so simple. If she had faith it could work, I also had to believe it could. After tonight, I had no clue how things were going to change.
CHAPTER30
SETH
There wasn’t a fancy fighting pit or referees to break up the fight if things got out of hand. As I walked into the main room of the warehouse, I noticed the concrete floor had shards of broken glass scattered around. There were two people each from the mafia families my father brought in: the fathers and their eldest sons. Valentin gave me a reassuring nod, and so did Benny. Nikolai’s two guys stood off on the opposite side of the room with the Porcellos and the Sellingers.
However, Nikolai was nowhere to be seen. I moved to the center of the room, feeling the tension skyrocket with each passing second. My adrenaline started to spike, and I was ready to fight. There was no hesitation, no room for second thoughts.
Nikolai strolled out of the darkness, his lethal gaze on mine. I could see it in his eyes … he wanted to kill me. He’d been waiting for the chance for a very long time. I stood my ground, my hands curled into fists at my sides. The silence in the room was palpable as Nikolai approached me, his steps slow and deliberate. My heart was pounding in my chest, the anticipation driving me to make the first move.
“The time has come!” Nikolai shouted, peering around at all the men in the room with his arms stretched wide. “I hope you’re ready because this isn’t going to end the way you think.” His head jerked to me. “It’s time, big brother.”
