I look out at the people gathered. His coworkers. His friends. His family. Not by blood, but by something more meaningful. Their own choices.
“Sandro was a good kid. Sorry—man. He’d always get mad at me for calling him a kid. All of you knew him as Rafe’s driver, but I got to know him as someone else. Sam Wilkins. Entrepreneur. Construction expert. A pain in the ass, on occasion.”
There are a few chuckles at that.
“And a very dear friend.” I pause, sliding my gaze over the listening crowd. “You all knew Sandro, but I want to tell you a bit about Sam. You know what happened to us. Sandro got the short end of the stick and was told to get out of here with me. The guy didn’t even fucking blink. It’s not like we were leaving for a day or two, it was meant to be forever. I know I’m good company, but I’m notthatgood.”
Laughs break out among the crowd.
“Anyway, we get to this place called Darkwater Hollow.” I scratch the side of my mouth with my thumb. “I honestly had no fucking idea what we were going to do there. I was upset and angry and just lost.”
I find Blake. She’s standing beside Cleo, and judging by her expression, I can tell my words have caught her off guard. She has no idea how dark things were in the beginning. Only Sandro did.
“It was Sandro’s idea to buy a small construction business. While I was still internally kicking and screaming about being forced into this new life, Sandro didn’t waste any time on that. He was a practical guy. He got towork, and he was so damn smart. We turned that business around in a few months, and from the outside, it may have seemed like I was leading the charge, but that’s not true. It was all him. He grew into his own. He became a man. And he became someone I looked up to.”
Someone in the crowd sniffs.
“When we first left, I had this idea in my head that I’d have to be responsible for him, but I was wrong. He didn’t need me. I was the one who needed him, especially in those early days. Whenever I got too quiet, too deep inside my head, Sandro would pull me out. Crack a bad joke. Make a comment about a shitty driver. Babble on about a viral video he'd seen. It annoyed me back then. Like, why the hell couldn’t he just let me think in peace? But now I see what he was doing. He could tell I was having a rough go at it, and instead of leaving me to my own devices, he cared enough to try to give me a hand.”
Fuck. I’d do anything to have him walk through the door right now with that boyish grin on his face.
I take a sip of my drink, buying myself a few moments to pull it together.
“I know this is supposed to be a celebration of his life, and we’ll celebrate right after I stop making you all cry, but there’s one more thing I’ve got to say.” I clear my throat. “In these parts, we don’t throw around the label ‘hero’ very often. We know who we are, and we know what we do. But I want to make an exception for Sandro, because…” My throat is so damn tight.
Blake stares at me from across the room as silent tears run down her cheeks. I’m not sure I’d be able to get through this if she weren’t here.
I lick my lips. “Sandro used his last moments to save my wife’s life. And I’ll always be grateful to him for that.”
Faces turn toward Blake. There isn’t a single dry eye in the room.
Cleo puts a comforting hand on her back. Blake’s lips wobble a bit as she gives me a sad smile.
I lift my glass. “To Sandro, and to Sam.”
“To Sandro, and to Sam,” the crowd responds.
And we drink.
CHAPTER 31
NERO
Rubbing a towel over my wet hair, I wander through the penthouse, looking for my wife. I find her in the living room reading on the couch with a blanket draped over her lap. I just finished up my post-workout shower, and I’m ready to spend another day with her. It’s my last day off before I have to get back to work and deal with Alessio’s brand of crazy.
I walk over to where she’s sitting and bend down to plant a kiss on the crown of her head. She tilts her head to look up at me, offering a soft smile.
Something flutters inside my chest. God, I’m like a fucking schoolboy searching for clues my crush is also crushing on me.
She’s given herself to me physically, but I don’t just want her body. I want all of her to be mine, without any hesitations, doubts, or fears. And I won’t give up until I get that.
For a moment, I’m tempted to call Cleo and ask her if Blake gave her any clues about how she’s really feeling about me, but I doubt Cleo would tell me. Besides, I want Blake to have friendsshe can trust here, so I decide to keep my nose out of their business.
“Want to go for a walk in Central Park?”
She glances toward the window. “It’s raining.”
“Barely. Don’t tell me you’re scared of a little drizzle.”
