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She came hurrying up the hall, slipping past me and going to a cart in the corner. Lucien sank back against the pillows, his face pale. Looking like he was about to lose consciousness. I clenched my fists so hard the nails cut into my palm because there was no way I was going to cave and cry again.
He needed my strength.
Sienna brought a little paper cup of two pills and I held his water glass so he could take them. It didn’t take long for his eyes to go hazy and his body to relax into the pillows. His lids sank down and he was asleep.
“Thank you,” I whispered.
We went out into the hall to let him rest. She turned to me, touching my arm carefully like she wasn’t sure how I would react.
“He’s going to be fine, Olivia,” she said.
I nodded, my throat dry. “I’m sorry,” I said quietly. “That we dragged you into this…that we put Viktor in danger.”
She shook her head, smiling past her wet lashes. “Honestly, he’s been itching to get back into something. And I’ve been…rethinking a lot of things. I’m hoping that maybe it isn’t too late to mend bridges.”
My heart was bruised and there was no space in it for anything but hope. The last year in exile and the complete breakdown of Lucien’s empire had changed me to my core. The little things we’d considered important felt silly.
“Of course,” I said, putting my arms around her and hugging her close.
She tensed and then melted against me. We embraced for a moment and I pulled back and wiped my face hastily.
“I really don’t care what happened,” I said, my voice husky. “I just want everyone to be safe…I want my husband to be okay. And I understand why you were angry with Lucien.”
“He apologized,” she whispered. “I almost fell over from shock.”
“In some ways, Lucien is the same man he’s always been. But in other ways, he’s changed so much. If he apologized to you, he really means it.”
“I know.”
We stood there, looking at each other in the empty hallway. There was something that felt like the end of a chapter hovering in the air. It scared me, it made me wonder what was around the corner.
“Let’s go have some tea,” said Sienna.
We went downstairs. I slipped off my sneakers and sat cross-legged in a soft, cream chair in the living room. Sienna bustled about the adjoining kitchen and returned with a platter of hot tea and croissants with jam. She poured me a cup and I cradled it in my hand. Grateful for the warmth.
“Do you have children?” I asked.
She nodded, smiling a little wistfully. “I have a son, Porter. He’s probably with the boats now. He grew up on the water so he’s more comfortable on it than dry land.”
“We have four of them,” I said.
“Viktor told me,” she said.
I took a sip of tea, letting the hot, milky flavor warm me to my core.
“So what was it like to not have a husband in the mafia?” I asked.
She shrugged. “Peaceful, but he’s always busy. He ran the restaurant with his business partner for a while. Then that just ran its course and he decided he wanted to move out of New Orleans. So we lived on the coast and he taught Porter how to work on the water. It’s been really peaceful, but I think Viktor’s bored.”
“They always are like that, aren’t they?” I said. “Anytime there’s a lull, I can hear the gears in Lucien’s brain firing up.”
“I wish he’d just relax,” she said, sighing and curling up into the corner of the couch. “Viktor was going to ask Lucien about a place here in the city.”
“Really?” I liked the idea of that. It felt like a new beginning, a positive one.
“It might be a bit unprecedented,” she mused. “A retired Russian mafia boss joining an Italian outfit.”
“Stranger things have happened,” I said. “Quite recently.”
