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Something's wrong with work, and he's wondering if he should spill with her here. And Mel's look either means she's not going anywhere or she desperately wants to go elsewhere.
I turn and walk away from her. Ryder follows me out of the kitchen. Because whether Mel wants to listen or not, I'm not discussing this shit anywhere close to where my son might hear.
I walk to the door and step outside. I nod sharply at the door, and Ryder pulls it shut behind me. Romero is standing guard outside this morning and sends me a greeting. I reply and then fold my hands across my chest.
"Before you say a word. You're not to let even a whiff of business around my son. If he's in the house, then we do not discuss business in the house. Understand?"
Ryder tilts his head to the side, and I slant mine the same way. "Do you or do you not fucking understand me, Ryder?" I grate out.
"I understand."
"And no swearing around him. Not a slip. Tell that to the rest of the men."
"Yes, boss. I understand."
"Now what's wrong?"
"Sandro's men were ambushed by the fucking Russians. Three men dead. Four captured, which is a fate worse than death."
I jerk and still. "How long ago was this?" I ask.
"Last night. Just after I dropped you off, I received Intel from him this morning. He's asking for a meeting. He wants to pull out."
I won't have a meeting. "Have the Russian routes shut down. Two should be enough to show we're serious."
Ryder bares his teeth in a humorless smile, then hacks a harsh cough from his lungs. "We can't afford to shut down the routes. We'll lose as well."
"No, we won't. Have the men stay armed at all times. Shut down the drugs for two days. Everything. Their entire livelihood is drugs and the women. Shut down the drugs."
Ryder sighs and stretches his body out. "Alec called."
"Fuck him," I growl at him. "If we're done here, I'll be spending time with my son the rest of the day."
"Xander..."
"I'm the boss, Ryder, and I say this conversation is fucking over. Do not push me."
He nods and walks away, already pulling his phone from his pocket. Fucking Russians always messing things up at the worst moments.
I'll need to speak to Sandro soon, but for now, I step back into the house. I follow the stairs and then the long hallway till the sound of giggles leads me to Lucian's room, where Mel is blowing raspberries into his stomach. His giggles sound like peace.
I screw my eyes shut.
The wife I wanted. The son I wanted. Both of them are right here. Right next to me.
So why does it all feel so wrong?
17
MEL
Gianna's return is as unexpected as it is welcome. I mean, I've been expecting her to call any day now to meet her at the airport.
But when I wake up from a small nap to the sound of voices coming from the living room as I head downstairs, I'm not expecting to see her sitting on the sofa with Lucian giggling in her arms.
They both scream, "Surprise!" Then she walks over to me and hugs me so tight, and I sink into her arms.
"Oh, my goodness. What is this?" I whisper-scream against her neck. I pull away and stare into her eyes to assure myself she really is here, hair tied up in a whimsy little bun, clad in a blazer and pants that are way bigger than her.
