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Happy sobered. “Can you blame them, though?”
Sighing, I leaned forward, resting my elbows on my desk. “Guess not. But that out there is overkill, and you know it. So, what did you need to talk to me about?”
“Was out in Central Park yesterday, you know, near the Harbor on 5th.”
Stilling, I slowly nodded as he continued.
“It was a pretty day. The birds were chirping, and the kids were laughing. A great place to just sit and relax, you know. Saw a beautiful woman and we talked for a bit.”
“That was nice.” I carefully said, knowing that Vladmir was listening to this conversation.
“She’s a single mother. She recently moved in with her daughter.”
“It’s always good to have family around.”
“Yeah, it is,” Happy said, looking at his hands before looking back at me. “She was telling me how she misses her other daughter. She’s worried about her. Seems her daughter has bitten off more than she can chew and she’s worried she’s about to make a big mistake.”
“Sounds like she has a strong daughter. She should have more faith in her.”
“She’s afraid her daughter is going to get hurt.”
Sighing, I sat back in my chair, looking around my office. What could I say to that? It was a possibility. Life wasn’t easy. I knew that. In my life, danger was a part of my life. I knew every morning as I stepped out of my home there was a possibility I could be kidnapped, mugged, or worse, killed. But I refused to let the fear of the unknown stop me from living my life.
“What did you tell her?”
“That, as a father myself, I knew the dangers life harbored. And if it was my daughter, that I would do everything I could to ensure her safety.”
“What if the daughter doesn’t want her help?”
“Everyone needs help, Illyria. Even those who believe they don’t. Those are the people who need it the most. She asked me to watch out for her daughter. I told her I would because this particular daughter has more to lose than anyone.”
Looking at my own hands, I muttered. “What if this daughter refuses?”
Happy shook his head. “It’s not up to her anymore, Dollface. I gave this mother my word. You, of all people, know I don’t do that lightly.”
“You must have really liked this mother to do that?”
Happy smirked. “She is a beautiful woman with a lot of love left to give. I enjoy seeing her smile.”
I grinned.
Yeah, she had a beautiful smile.
Happy said nothing more as he left me to ponder his words. I knew what Mrs. Ruston was saying. I understood her worry. She was like a second mother to me. Best friends with my mother, Mrs. Rushton, helped me through the grieving process of losing my mother, my family home, my brother Luciano and the countless cousins. She dropped everything to be with me the night I saw Maxim with that other woman and through it all, she never criticized me. She never chastised or made me feel unworthy. She treated me as a human being, showing me kindness, love and her exceptional understanding of the life I lived.
Always the first to lend an ear, Mrs. Rushton gave me the best advice and tried to get me to see things from a different perspective. Even when I didn’t want to listen. Which was often. But most importantly, she never gave up hope I would do the right thing.
I knew how she felt about my relationship with Maxim. While she wasn’t happy at first. In reality, my relationship with Max frightened her, but as time went on, she noticed a positive difference in me. She told me once that Maxim complimented me in ways no others have. That he brought out the best in me. Over the years, when we would argue, she instructed me to talk to him. To open up and show him the real me. That if my marriage was going to work, I needed him to see the real me. Not the woman everyone thought I was.
For the longest time, I refused.
Nobody gave a damn about the real me. The person I was behind closed doors. I learned that lesson early in my life. That perception was everything. To guard my thoughts and feelings. If I ever showed the real me, people wouldn’t understand. They would think I’d lost my mind. Finally gone off the deep end.
That I was a fraud.
There was only one person who knew the real me and he died at the Golden Wedding, taking everything with him to the grave. Not even my cousin Dwayne, with his infectious laughter and smooth, soothing voice, knew the real me. I was a product of my raising. A true mafia princess to the core. That’s what I played up. That’s what I knew. That’s what the world believed.
Sometimes, I wanted to escape it all.
