“Love you. Take care of our girl,” Evan said, a slight waver to his voice.
“You know I will, brother. Klaus?—”
“Love you,” I said, “take care of Rosalie. We’ll do what we can on our end.”
“I will.” Anson disconnected the call, and I looked over at Evan to see a muscle thrumming along his bottom jaw.
“It’ll be OK,” I said.
“And if it’s not?”
“Then we’ll start fucking killing people.”
He tightened his hands into fists before getting to his feet and leaving the room. A moment later, I heard the door to the basement click closed, and I knew he was going downstairs to punch things.
He was so much like Matteo. He and Anson could be brothers.
“Hello?”Levin’s voice greeted me.
“Son,” I said gruffly. I’d worked a lot on my relationship with my boys, and while Stefan was easier on me than Levin, I still had my work cut out for me.
Levin was stubborn.
“What do you need?” he asked.
Always right to the point.
“It’s about Rosalie?—”
“Tour bus fire. I heard. It’s all over the news,” he said. “Rosalie is OK, right?”
“Yeah, Anson said she’s fine. I was calling to see if you’d be able to put your ear to the ground there and see if you’ve heard anything about Everett Church.”
Levin was quiet for a moment. “Why not ask Dante? He’s the one hellbent on finding his ass.”
“Levin, it’s Rosalie,” I said softly.
He sighed. “I know. I’ll do it. I’ll let you know if I hear anything.”
“Thank you. I appreciate it.”
We were both quiet for a moment.
“How are you?” I asked. “We haven’t spoken in a few weeks, and you were quite busy when I was in Chicago.”
“I’m fine.”
“Anything going on?”
He sighed. “Yeah. I guess. Bianca is pregnant again.”
“Oh?” I raised my brows at that information.
“We just found out a few days ago,” he continued. “It’s mine.”
“You’re going to be a father?” I asked, my voice choked.
“Yeah.” He sighed.
