Page 83 of Pink

“Pink,” Andino ground out, shaking with his finger still aimed at the magazines across his desk like a gun ready to blow, “you better start fucking talking, man. This is the kind of attention the Marcellos don’t need. You know better than this. What is going on?”

“I don’t know. I just …” Lev’s hands found the edge of Andino’s desk, and he prayed for something to steady him because the ground just wasn’t doing it. “I’m sorry, boss.”

Andino let out a hard breath. “How long have you been fucking with … she’s like a goddamn supermodel, Pink.”

He flinched. “I knew her before that … we just met up again while she was in town. For work, you know? It wasn’t supposed to cause any problems. We spent the night together and that was it. I was just at the park with Arely today and photographers showed up out of nowhere asking questions and—”

“Exactly!” Andino’s roar froze Lev to the spot. “Exactly,” his boss ground out again. “Asking questions. About you.” His finger jabbed down to the word ENFORCER in block letters on the tabloid’s cover. “About fucking business. What in the hell am I supposed to do about this?”

“Call your fucking lawyers and get them on their ass? I don’t know! Why are you asking me?”

“Pink.”

Lev met Andino’s stare and quietly said, “I know this is bad.”

“Do you?”

“Yeah, man. But it’s also bad for me, you know? And my kid. So I get you’re pissed off about your business being out in the public right now, but give me a chance to catch up and take care of my shit first. Okay?”

Andino straightened to his full height at the other side of the desk but said nothing more. It gave Lev the chance to drag in another deep breath, settling his overworked and already frayed nerves a little more.

He’d checked Gigi’s texts after getting Arely home and calling Nessa to come and sit with her while he ran into work.

Gigi was pissed. Not just because of the pictures, either. Obviously. Everything he hadn’t told her … well, he didn’t really need to tell her anymore. It was plastered across the rags, headlining every major gossip blog, and shit, he wouldn’t be surprised if something made the damn news.

Her last text?

My team is putting out a statement. We need to talk. ASAP.

Yeah, he bet.

Goddammit.

“Christ, Lev,” Andino muttered, falling ungracefully into his office chair with enough force to shake the floor. That wasn’t half as shocking as his boss using his name instead of simply Pink like he usually did. “You’re seriously fucking with that chick?”

“I mean … yeah?”

“Why is that a question?”

Lev laughed under his breath because what else could he do? “Look at her, man. If you were lucky enough to be fucking the woman who was listed as one of the most beautiful women in the world, wouldn’t you wonder how it happened too?”

Andino arched a brow, replying, “Well … Listen, happily married man here.”

“But?”

“No buts.”

Right.

No one could say Andino Marcello was a saint, but they certainly wouldn’t ever be able to say the man was unfaithful to his wife, either. He didn’t even look at other women in a way that suggested he was interested. It was one of the things Lev respected the most about the man because very little else was socially respectable beneath the surface.

“Fucking gross,” Lev snapped, picking up the one tabloid that called his daughter a secret. Just as fast, he tossed it into the trash bin beside the desk. “Just make up shit like that. Come on.”

Andino glanced his way with a bit more sympathy. “Really bothers you, huh?”

“Wouldn’t it bother you? You know how much effort I put into keeping my daughter safe from … everything I do. She doesn’t even know who Pink is, Andino. And now what? Are we going to have people outside our house with cameras every day asking if her father is connected to the mob? What if she goes to daycare and someone runs their mouth? Or shit, what about when she starts kindergarten and—”

“Okay, you’re just catastrophizing now. Don’t call on trouble that isn’t even here yet.”