I’d heard Levin was a lot like me. But also a lot like his mother.
It didn’t matter. I was a fuck-up and a piece of shit for a father. I couldn’t even save Stef. There was no point in my dwelling on any of it.
So I didn’t.
Instead, I drank to forget because it just made the days pass in a blur and hurt less.
That was all I could ask for.
2
MATTEO
Istood outside her bedroom door, not moving a muscle. I’d taken the camera from her room once Alessandro had asked me to. He said he wanted privacy with her.
I granted it without a second thought. Having him and Tomasso back in my life was a godsend, and if he didn’t want the damn camera in the room, it wouldn’t be there.
Even though Klaus told me I was crazy for removing it. Even Alessio had shaken his head.
I breathed out and opened her door before I stepped into the room to find her sitting by her window and staring out at the gardens below.
“I brought you dinner,” I said, placing the food on the table in her room.
She looked over at me, her bright blue eyes locking on mine. My breath hitched, and I stared back at her, not wanting to show weakness because fuck, the girl made me weak in my knees.
She was beautiful, and Dominic had chosen well. It was more than that, though. She was strong and intelligent. And… she had a fire I admired.
She said nothing and returned to staring at the gardens.
I walked over to her and followed her gaze to all the flowers in bloom.
“They are beautiful,” I commented. “Which is your favorite?”
“That one.” She pointed to the fading flowers. They hung limply, their colors gone, decay taking over.
“Why those?”
“They’re already dead and don’t have to deal with the unknown,” she murmured, rubbing her swollen belly.
Two babies. Twins. Inside her were my family. My… brother’s children. I’d raised him as my son. I’d…. hated him.
I swallowed hard, not wanting to think about it. Sylar kept slowly putting shit in my head that made me uncertain about everything I thought I knew. He liked to plant seeds and didn’t always come out and say what he meant. He liked to let me stew on them, seeing if maybe I had the same family abilities he had.
I didn’t. Not really.
At least not to his extent. I was good at reading people, but that was it. Sometimes I knew things. I had no explanation for it; I just knew people better than they knew themselves. It gave me an edge in our world and probably kept us alive all these years.
“Why do you want to die?” I asked as I stared down at her. She wore a long dress I’d left for her. I’d stocked the closet with all sorts of things for her, but she seemed to really like the long dresses lately.
“I… I want to live,” she said softly. “But I don’t think I will.”
“Have I killed you yet?”
She looked up at me. “Have I killed you?”
I smiled at that. “Not yet.”
“Exactly. Not yet.” She turned back to the window, but I reached out and slid my fingers beneath her delicate jaw. When she’d arrived here months ago, she’d practically ripped my face off.
