I sent her a picture of me a few days ago. Eating a muffin. She really seemed to like it because she’d sent me a picture back of herself eating a chocolate chip cookie.
I’d saved that photo to my phone. I wanted to make it my screen, but I knew that was too bold, and if Alessio, Matteo, or even Anson saw it, I would pay for the mistake.
Anson scowled at me for my reply about her working.
Matteo frowned at me. “How do you know that?”
“I heard they serve good muffins. I was curious. I went in, and she was working,” I stated evenly, no emotion in my voice.
Anson narrowed his eyes at me, but didn’t say anything, so I continued.
“I left her a fifty-thousand-dollar tip to quit. She told me to go to hell, but nicely, and gave me the check back.”
Matteo chuckled. “Strong one, that flower.”
My lips twitched. That she was. I admired the hell out of her.
“What happened between you two?” Matteo looked back at Anson.
I stared at him, waiting for his answer.
Anson shrugged, his voice low. “Bad timing.”
“You control your time,” Matteo said. “Go get your woman, Alessandro.”
“She’s not my woman,” Anson shot back. “I have a woman.”
“You have a woman who is using you to stay alive. She won’t fuck you or love you.” Matteo waved him off. “Marry Bianca if you wish, but you can still be with Rosalie.”
“Yeah? How’d that work for you?” Anson shot back.
I winced at his words and chanced a quick glance at Matteo. He had lived and breathed for Delilah. He’d have risked his life and had, in fact, to be with her, but when Carmine threatened to murder her and his children while he watched, Matteo had no choice but to let her go.
It had broken him. We’d spent years with Matteo, watching as he slowly darkened. He’d once been a carefree, happy man who loved fiercely. As time went by, he turned cold and withdrawn.
Anna was a good woman, but she wasn’t the woman he wanted. Then, when Dominic was born, it drifted even closer to hell.
And so everyone suffered.
Matteo stiffened at Anson’s words. It took him a moment to speak.
“Alessandro, you’re a good man, but if this marriage to Bianca is ruining your potential happiness, then you owe it to yourself to let go and take what you want. You deserve to be happy, too.”
“I don’t quit things I start. I’m marrying Bianca,” Anson replied softly as he stared out the window, his Adam’s apple bobbing.
“Is that your final answer to this entire situation?” Matteo asked.
“Yes,” Anson said, looking back at him. There wasn’t an ounce of wavering there. He meant what he said. We’d be stupid to think he was bluffing.
Matteo sighed, and the room fell quiet for a moment. I worked hard to keep my feet in place, so I wouldn’t run off to call Rosalie to make sure she was OK. Something must have happened between them. Judging by the mark on Anson’s neck, he’d fucked around with her, and his morals came into play.
I breathed out, feeling that soft surge of jealousy bubble up inside me.
“Alessandro, go to Bianca. Take her something to eat. She’s been enjoying ice cream a lot lately. Take her some.” Matteo looked at him, a sad look on his face.
Anson didn’t hesitate. He was on his feet and out of the room in moments.
“Alessio, call Trent. Tell him to come to me,” Matteo murmured as Anson left.
