Page 101 of Corrado

“I prefer Ginny.” She smiled brightly—sweetly. “That’s what my mom used to call me, and my sisters.”

Corrado dragged in a heavy breath, feeling the sense of time he had never been able to forget because it was seared into his brain coming back in a flash. That time, and that man, it melted together in his brain with this woman.

He saw her face.

He heard her words.

And he also saw Alessio—heard him, too.

I prefer Les.

That memory hit him hard.

All at once.

Like a punch to the gut.

He’d been this curious once a long time ago. He remembered that day vividly—that knife room, and those few words he shared with a man that would change his whole life. This felt different in ways, and in others, the same.

Because the curiosity was there. God knew it was going to be his curiosity that got him in trouble. It always did.

Like fucking déjà vu.

Yeah, a problem.

That’s what this woman was for him.

Corrado knew it right then.

Because he had interest.

Nothing was ever simple when he found interest in something, but especially because nothing interested him anymore. Nothing but the man back in Vegas, and apparently, this woman standing in front of him.

“Well?” she asked. “Do you want to play?”

“I don’t think I should,” he replied, honestly.

Her smile fell. “Oh. Okay.”

“Don’t let me stop you from enjoying it, though.”

She didn’t reply.

He didn’t mind.

Corrado left Ginevra to her game, and he went back to Alessio’s library. Shit felt easier there. He could breathe better in that space, further away from her, and the confusion he now felt.

Except that was a lie, too.

Nothing was easier.

“Fuck.”

Corrado glared at the digital clock on the nightstand that displayed a time way too early for his fucking phone to be ringing. Even if the sun was up, it didn’t matter. Nobody needed to wake his ass up before seven-thirty.

Unless someone was dead.

And even then, it depended on who died.