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“So, tell me what you know about Joe Ranieri. What’s he like?”
I freeze at the stovetop. Does he know I’m Joe’s daughter? He can’t, there’s no way he knows that. No freakin’ way. If he did, I’d be a target, one he could use to his advantage. He could use me to take over Joe’s territory. Gain Denver and everything that Joe has.
“I don’t know him,” I say calmly, trying to keep the fear from my voice. “I’ve heard stories about him. I’ve heard what he does, but other than that, not much.”
“What have you heard?”
I breathe a sigh of relief. He doesn’t know. Thank God.
“I’ve heard Joe’s a fair boss, that he has the loyalty of the men and women of this city. But just like the rest of you, he’s a killer.” It’s something I’ll never agree with. Taking someone’s life just because you can doesn’t sit right with me, but it’s something I have to accept as Joe is my father.
Alessio makes a non-committal noise. “Again, little girl, why do I get the feeling there’s so much more to you?”
I plate up the food and put it down in front of him, then take a seat opposite.
“There’s much more to everyone once you delve under the surface. Everyone has a side they show the world, and then there’s the side very little see. I have a feeling that annoying smirk you have is a way to hide who you truly are.” I grin at him when his eyes narrow. “You push everyone away and act like a complete wanker to the whole world, just so no one can get close to you.” I take a bite of food and watch him. His gaze hasn’t left me once since I sat down, and it’s unnerving. “Like the woman you cheated on. She was getting too close, wasn’t she? You couldn’t deal with her getting to the real you, so you cheated on her just to push her away.”
His eyes narrow, and his lips thin. Seems as though I’ve hit the nail on the head.
“Alessio, if you don’t want people prying into your life, how about you stay the hell out of mine?”
Thankfully, he doesn’t say a word and instead begins to eat.
Silence spreads between us as the minutes tick by. Alessio seems quite content on eating, while ignoring his phone buzzing every other minute. No doubt everyone is checking in on him now they know that he's awake. When he's finished, he gets to his feet, and I follow suit. He faces me.
“Gabriella,” he says, and the way my name rolls off his tongue has heat pooling between my thighs. “Thank you. You didn't need to do what you did, but I am really grateful you did.”
I swallow hard at the sincerity in his voice. “As I said, I couldn't let you die. I really hope you get better soon, and I'm glad your family knows you're okay. I didn't want to answer it because I didn't want to be involved. Yeah, I know, I was already too deep, but I hope you understand?”
He nods but doesn’t say anything.
We walk toward the front door. My chest is heavy, and my stomach is in knots. It's as though I'm losing something, losing a part of me. I have no idea what to do. I push through it because I know that no matter what, I'll be okay, and having him walk away is the right thing to do.
I open the door for him. “Take care of yourself, Alessio,” I say.
He smiles at me, and this time, it's not smug. It’s a genuine, bright smile.
“You too, Gabriella.” his words are thick and gravelly.
He steps closer to me, his hand brushing along my chin, his breath hot against my skin. My hand braces against the door, and I pray he doesn't do what I think he’s about to do.
He does. His lips slam against mine, and he kisses me hard. His kiss is rough but oh so good. He sweeps his tongue into my mouth and makes me weak at the knees.
When he pulls back, I’m breathless and clinging to him. This should never have happened. God, what is wrong with me? Why did I let that happen? My legs are wobbly, my chest heaving as I try to suck in some much-needed oxygen.
“I'll be seeing you soon, Gabriella. Be good,” he says as he walks out of my house.
I pray this is the last time I see him, but I have a gut feeling it won’t be.
Chapter 4
Alessio
One week later
“You good?” Dante asks when I answer his call.
“I’m fine,” I reply, having had this same conversation with not just him but everyone else in the family, even those who aren’t immediate family. I’m sick to death of having everyone ask if I’m doing okay and questioning if I should come home.
