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He didn’t know who Mina Harris really was. I needed to show him, and I fully intended to do just that.
I would win him over.
I would.
Lev called just before five to tell me that he wouldn’t be coming to the club as planned. He got caught up in those numbers of his and totally lost track of time. Luckily for him, I’d had a good day; otherwise, I might not have been so accepting.
After seeing some of the photos I intended to put on the flyers, Sasha was impressed. He didn’t show it, but I knew he was. Why else would he have offered to give me a ride back home?
Sasha and I were now your regular BFFs. Well, not really. But he would succumb to my charm. Eventually. I was sure of it.
Sasha drove up into Lev’s drive long enough to mutter, “Fuck me.”
I lifted my head to see what had brought out the curse to find my brother’s car already in the drive. And he was sitting inside.
“Thanks for the ride. I’ll see you later,” I muttered distractedly before stepping out, walking over to Alessio’s car and knocking lightly on the window.
He was scowling down at a piece of paper in his lap, but as soon as he lifted his head to look at me, his face gentled. I opened the passenger door and sat inside, smiling, leaning over the seat to give him a light squeeze. “Hey. I wasn’t expecting you. What are you doing here? And what are you doing outside?”
His arm came around me to hug me back, and he uttered, “I gotta talk to you. Alone.”
Crap.
I pulled back. “That sounds serious.”
He shook his head. “I don’t know. It might be nothing, but,” he passed me the piece of paper, “here, look for yourself.”
My fingers worked quickly to unfold the paper. When I read what was on it, my chest squeezed. “You found them,” I whispered. “You found the Petersons. Already?” I smiled and chuckled. “You do work fast.”
“Mina, that’s the thing,” he started cautiously. “How long ago did you ask Lev to find them?”
How long? I thought back. “About six weeks ago. Why?”
He cursed, running a hand down his face. “I don’t want to cause no trouble, you hear, but I think you need to know that someone contacted the Petersons a few weeks back, asking all sorts of questions about you.” I frowned. That couldn’t be right. He added quietly, “And I think it was Lev.”
“What?” I laughed humorlessly. “No. That can’t right.”
Alessio lifted his hands in a helpless gesture. “I don’t know for sure. I don’t know. Maybe you should talk to him about it. If it wasn’t him, I don’t know who could’ve been asking about you. It’s a creepy coincidence though.” He continued, “And I don’t believe in coincidences.”
My heart twisted.
Lev wouldn’t do that to me.
He wouldn’t.
I blinked out of my thoughts, moving on. “You spoke to them then? To the Petersons?” He nodded slowly. I was suddenly nervous. “What did they say?”
Alessio spoke calmly. “I spoke to Maggie. I told her I was your brother. That we didn’t know about each other until just recently and that you were looking for them.”
My throat tightened. I asked a hushed, “What did she say?”
His eyes widened comically. “Well, first she fucking cried like a baby.” My hand came up to cover my mouth as my face crumpled. Alessio laid a hand on my knee, patting it, and went on. “Then she wanted to know how you were and where you were staying. She asked if she could see you. I didn’t tell her where you were, but I said I’d take her details and that if you wanted to meet, you’d call.”
My voice quivered. “How are they? How’s James?”
Alessio smiled. “They’re good. They live pretty close to where they used to. I don’t know about James. She didn’t mention him.”
“Wow,” I muttered, looking down at the paper in my lap. I swallowed hard then huffed out a long breath. “Thank you.” I turned to him. “Thank you so much.”
Then he said something wonderful.
He shrugged. “You’re my sister. I’ll help where I can.”
Before I burst into tears, I threw myself over the seat, wrapping my arms around his neck and pulling him close. “Same goes for you…brother.” I released him, smiling. “I’d better go.”
He checked his wristwatch and nodded. “Yeah, me too. Gotta get ready for work.” His face changed then and he clicked his fingers. “Wait, before I forget.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out an old photograph then handed it to me. “Meet Enzo Scarfo.”
The face that looked back at me was handsome. Very handsome. With high cheekbones, a sharp nose, and low brows, he looked dangerous. He didn’t smile in the photo, his near-black eyes staring back at me. A shiver ran through me. “He was very handsome.”
