Ugh. He could be so dramatic.
“Even if I show up at that house,” I said, knowing he was a second away from a heart attack. I lifted up my hand to stop whatever he was about to say. “It doesn’t change anything, brother. The shipment’s leaving in a few hours. We have one rat less. Moretti is slowly but surely changing his tune.” It wastaking everything out of me to keep my mouth moving. “Jade’s still locked up. We’re on the same team. Everything’s fine. I’m fine. You’re fi—”
“Just shut the fuck up and go sleep.” Andrei looked me over with pity, like I was sick and he felt sorry for me. “If you show up at the house, Maksim will let me know. And I will come there and drag you out.”
This was beyond exhaustion; I couldn't even think straight. I just had one thought on repeat: I wanted to see Jade. She was trapped all alone, and this would all take such a long fucking time.
I stumbled out of the warehouse and into my car, driving home on autopilot. I just needed sleep.
But fate was testing me that day because Gianna’s car was in my driveway.
She was relentless and I was losing all patience. I swung my front door open and stepped inside, only to be greeted by the sight of her in my living room. How the hell did she even get in?
With her legs crossed, she was sitting on my white couch, which, most unfortunately, reminded me of her since she picked it out for me when we were still in a relationship. As always, she looked like she was about to step on the runway. Good for her, it just wasn’t for me.
"Breaking into my house is too much. What're you doing here?" There were no more pleasantries left inside me. I placed my keys, wallet, and phone on the console table and strolled a few steps closer to her.
"What a lovely way to greet your girlfriend, Alex. I didn't break in, your cleaner let me in."
"You're not my girlfriend. Please stop saying that! Gianna!" I snapped, raising my voice for the first time. I never raised my voice. I never shouted, never yelled, barely ever showed anger,but I was ready to fucking rip her apart. “Get out. Justgetout. Everything between us is over."
I pointed toward the door, but Gianna was unfazed, still sitting there with her hands in her lap, her voice calm and collected. "Who is she?"
"Who?!" But I knew what she was asking.
"The other woman. Who is sh—"
"There’s no other woman, damn it! Get it through your head!" I didn’t want to confess to myself that at this point…there mostdefinitelywas another woman. There was a woman who came into my life at the worst time for all this. A woman who occupied every single thought that ran through my mind, day and night.
I just wanted to be with her, to be close to her, to look at her, to touch her, to feel her, to...taste her.
“If there’s no other woman, then I’m your girlfriend,” Gianna declared, reaching for a glass on the coffee table I hadn’t noticed before.
“Is that—are you fucking drinking?” I asked, regret overcoming me. If she was drinking, she wouldn’t be able to drive off.
All I wanted, all I fuckingprayedfor at this point, was for her to disappear from my life. I wanted to rip her out like a splinter. Cut her off and throw her out. She was an infection. A fucking gangrene.
She took a sip, staring into my eyes. And then another, as if to prove her point—she was fucking staying.
Fuck it.
I made a split-second decision and bolted upstairs, grabbing a change of clothes. I didn’t give a shit if she decided to stay and never leave. She could become a squatter for all I cared; I would just abandon it all. The house, her, our past, this wretched reality.
In less than a minute, I was already downstairs, swiping my things off the table and ignoring Gianna, who still sat in the exact same spot, the smile on her face making me angrier.
"Where are you going, love? I just got here,” she called out, her words drenched in sarcasm.
The door slammed shut behind me, and I jumped into my car, itching to make it as far away from her as possible. I’d check into a hotel and sleep. I was not in the right state of mind for anything; I just needed sleep.
But once I got on the freeway, that dangerous and all-consuming idea overpowered me again. No. I didn't want to go to a hotel. There was only one place I longed to be.
Only forty-five minutes later, the little beach house came into view.
I should have turned the car around right then and there. I should have stepped on the gas andfled.Instead, I parked right outside the house and promptly turned off the engine, pocketing the key before my mind caught up with my actions.
Filled with something darker than anticipation, I knocked on the front door.
One, two, three.
