“I feel the same,” Klaus said. “If Levin is happy, then I want that for him.”
“Then you know why my being here and saying anything about anyone is a big deal,” Vincenzo continued. “Saying anything would be a betrayal of the ones I love. I’m sorry.”
“I understand,” I said, releasing his hand and settling back in my seat. “But you’ve said enough.”
He nodded at me. “I-uh, if I were looking for someone, I’d look to an enemy, or a once-enemy. Maybe that’ll take you where you need to go. You know, someone still in the game but not here.”
I nodded. He was giving us a clue on who to contact without saying a damn word. So much like his mother.
“Noted,” I said.
“Klaus… maybe call Levin,” Vincenzo said. “He’s unlikely to give a damn, but you can’t have that second chance if you don’ttake the first step. Levin has waited his entire life for you. I think he stopped waiting finally.” He stood and backed away.
“Can we have dinner sometime?” I asked him.
He studied me for a moment. “I think we could.”
I smiled. “Good. I’ll call you.”
“And I’ll answer.”
“Have a good night, Vincenzo. I love you.”
“I love you, too,” he said softly before turning and leaving Klaus and me alone at our table.
“What do you think?” I asked, turning my attention to Klaus.
“I think I need to reach out to Nicolai Reznikov,” Klaus muttered before draining his glass.
I had a feeling he was right.
20
KLAUS
Idid not stay at Matteo’s. Instead, I got a hotel room and lay in bed the next night, thinking about Rosalie and my son. Matteo was going to reach out to Nico for me, so I just had to wait and see.
I could have gone home, but I couldn’t face Rosalie after I’d walked out on her. My feelings were far too confusing, and nothing I did now would be right. I needed the space. The distance.
My phone buzzed, and I looked down at the screen to see a message from Rosalie.
Rosalie: I’m worried about you.
I breathed out and stared down at the message, wanting to answer her, but knowing I wasn’t in the right headspace yet to do it, so I darkened the screen and let the phone fall onto the mattress next to me.
My phone buzzed once more, and I swore to myself that if it was her, I’d go to her.
I lifted the phone to see a call from a number I didn’t recognize, but it did say California, which was where Nico was.
“Hello?” I answered.
“Klaus,” Nico’s Russian accent met my ears. “How are you, my old friend?”
“You know how I am,” I snarled, sitting up. “Where is my son?”
“Dead.”
“Don’t lie to me. I know he’s alive. I just…”
