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“How did you end up working here? You don’thaveto answer me.” I gave her the option.
We paused near the courtyard, and she looked at the flowers inside, but her attention wasn't fully on them. For a second, I thought she wouldn’t reply, but then she began.
“There’s not much to it, really. My father had known Mr. Moretti for alongtime. He used to landscape the home Mr. Moretti lived in. Then one day, dad came home and announced he had gotten another job with better pay.” Talia shrugged. “Nothing really changed except for the size of our pantry.” She chuckled, but it quickly faded. “Then my grandmother passed away a few years ago. I didn't cope with her death too well. I wasn't my best, but now I am here, better, and with my dad.”
There was certainly much more to it.
“I’m sorry for your grandmother's passing.”
Talia smiled faintly with fondness in her eyes. “Thank you.”
I foundmyself inside Lucca’s study. Not once had he hinted that I couldn’t come in without his presence. After all, this room housed my prized belongings. It was hard to grasp Lucca’s limits and difficult to understand his unsaid boundaries when mistrust was the root of our arrangement. I’ll push until there is no room left to give. Even as we shared the same roof, we were still strangers who communicated as well to remain so.
A part of me had hoped he would be inside. To play the game and start scheming for my future. Wrap him in a craft of beliefs until achieving my goals. But the only thing inside was his lingering scent.
I glanced at my case before I dragged a chair near and sat with my tablet in hand. In silence, I sketched with the peace of my blades next to me and allowed the straight lines and angles to distract me from the shackles I’d been given.
The door busted open in a rush, and my eyes were drawn to a different hair color than what belonged in this room. Ready for whomever felt comfortable enough to rip the door open with such haste. My posture automatically tensed, alert.
Fair blonde hair and icy blue eyes hesitated when they caught me watching from the corner. I’d met them once on the same night Enzo had sealed my fate. However, since that night, his eyes had hardened along with his appearance.
Hewas the selfish bastard that had trapped an innocent life into this world with the belief of love, but I guess, in his eyes, it was a better outcome than death at the hands of my family.
Ilias Novak.
To my understanding, the youngest of the four brothers whose blood were all apart from another but maintained a bond stronger than kin. He was also one of the few that had infiltrated the Cosa Nostra with no Italian lineage. His Russian blood ruined what many stood for as an Italian Mafia and what the wordmafiosomeant for many. But I couldn’t care less. In the end, we all bleed the same color.
In a way, I agreed with Lucca about something. How the old ways of this world didn’t always work for the best. How modifying a few laws could mean greater strength.I wonder how far he would risk breaking them.
Now, I remained silent before one of those changes. Neither one of us broke the silence. While I saw him as a possibility of trust, I caught his indecision and resentment.
Ilias perceived me as a Vitelli, and what it meant. The scars, pain, and wounds left on his lover's skin by my brothers. And yet, he struggled as my presence meant her safety.Theirsafety. The traded cage and the power I held for balance.
“Don't stop because of me. You seemed in a hurry,” I said, disturbing the silence with my words.
His broad shoulders ticked while he pondered.
“Sorry if I startled you, I wasn’t expecting you to be here.” There was a glimpse of guilt inside him.
I took it as a win.
“No need to apologize,” I replied and wagered my next words. Lowering my gaze, I did what I did best: deceit. “I hope Davina is doing well.”
His body tensed as I uttered her name, and I watched as his eyes calmed. My tone had been convincing, my body language sincere, and my eyes portrayed care, and Ilias had believed them all.
He wasn’t Lucca. He wasn’t immune to my illusions, and now I had infiltrated one of his closest men. Slowly he would stop seeing me as a Vitelli, and trust will slither through the gaps. And the longer I remained trapped inside this hoax, the more I would earn my way in.
“She is.” Ilias nodded politely and aimed his attention at Lucca’s desk. “I must get going,” he explained and walked deeper inside.
With determined steps and avoiding eye contact, he stood behind Lucca’s desk. Ilias opened the top drawer and fumbled through its contents before retrieving a letter-sized envelope. An echo cut through the thick tension of unease as the drawer closed shut.
The height of his frame had grown by its proximity, and I kept my eyes fixed on him as he approached. After all, I didn’t trust anyone. As he stood there without taking the initiative to leave, I grew weary of his next move. Weary of our distance and the negative thoughts that could be running through his head.
With his height and weight, it wouldn’t be an easy fight. And yet, I was only one step away from my knives.
But I didn't feel threatened in his presence.No.Because as he stood rooted in a battle with himself, all I felt was his confusion and uncanny mistrust. His body struggled with his movements and actions, uncertain of how to proceed.
He glanced back at me and explained, “Lucca asked for it.” The envelope wiggled between his fingers.
