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The night manager stopped mid-sentence and stared at me as if he wasn’t sure if he was seeing right.
“Sorry, urgent business to tend to,” I said, as if that would explain my strange behavior.
The manager nodded nervously in agreement, and I waved him off before I vaulted out of the open window and landed right next to a cactus—which I sadly mistook for something good to hold onto to keep from diving into the dirt.
Just great.
I got up, plucked the spikes from my hand, then brushed the dirt from my ass and started walking.
The cool night air was a relief after the stuffy office, but it did nothing to ease the knot in my gut.
I walked the winding path through the hotel gardens, toward the beach, and greeted some guests who passed by with a smile while ignoring the growing tension in my neck.
What did Gabe want now? To rehash the attack? Or—even worse—talk about my out-of-control life?
I wasn’t ready to talk about either, not before I knew exactly who was behind the attack. And I sure as hell wasn’t ready to confront the fact that I wasn’t a Falcone.
Gabe gave me a temporary respite when he offered to take the assets in Malta, but he and I knew that the implications of Moretti’s revelation had changed everything.
Everything I was.
Everything I’d ever known.
And I wasn’t ready to face it just yet.
I walked on, and the closer I got to the ocean, the stiffer the breeze became, offering a fleeting sense of comfort. I looked at my watch.
Almost 9 p.m.
Time to get to Obsydian, our biggest nightclub on the island and the business that awaited me there. I circled back around when suddenly, Gabe stepped out from the shadows of one of the buildings, a sarcastic smirk plastered across his face.
“Trying to hide from me, fratello?” he taunted.
Annoyance bubbled up inside of me. I sighed, narrowed my eyes, and shoved my hands into my pockets. “Is your wife already fed up with you? Is that why you’re loitering around here?” I shot back.
“Oh, my wife is just fine. Fell asleep in absolute bliss.”
I cocked my head. “That I need to see to believe.”
He narrowed his brows. “Over my dead body. Though, from the fact that you’d rather kiss a cactus than talk to me, I’ll assume you’re avoiding me.” His expression turned serious. “Are you okay, Alex?”
Fuck. I could take a teasing any day, but his concerned big-brother routine?
“I’m fine,” I snapped. The stiffness in my neck crept up to my jaw.
Gabe’s eyes darkened. “Don’t bullshit me. I know you’re still shaken up?—”
“I said I’m fine.”
“Really? Then why are the employees walking on eggshells around you?” Gabe crossed his arms, scrutinizing me. “And why do you avoid talking to me? What’s going on in that dumb head of yours?”
I dragged a hand through my hair and looked away, my gaze settling on the inky darkness hindering the view of the ocean stretching into the distance.
I didn’t have answers for him. I was adrift, unmoored from everything I’d once believed to be true.
The Falcones were not my family.
My entire life was built on lies.
