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“Franco would never approve. He thinks I should do this all myself.”
“Why does he care? These aren’t his kids. They’re Dad’s.”
Mom looks away from me, keeping her gaze glued on Luca. “It’s not important. I got this. I can take Lucia from you.”
“Usually, you’d be asking me to help,” I say as I hand Lucia over. It’s a funny sight, Mom with two babies on each hip.
“I know. But you’ve been through a lot, and I didn’t want to put more on you.”
“Well, thanks.”
“Of course.” She blinks, finally noticing Francesca. “Oh, Franny. There you are. I didn’t see you there. You just come down?”
“I’ve been reading on the couch for the past hour,” Francesca says.
“Oh.” Mom flushes. “Well, I need to feed these two.” She starts in the direction of the kitchen when the front door bursts open, and Franco comes in, a huge grin on his face.
“We got him,” he says.
“Got who?” I ask, dread filling my stomach.
“Your husband,” he responds with a sneer.
And just like that, I feel my entire world tip over and crash to the ground.
CHAPTER18
Viktor
Icrack open a beer, shuffle over to the barstool, and plop down, feeling defeated. How pathetic is it that I needed to get a drink from my own damn bar at two in the morning because I already drank the entire six pack I had at home? Pretty damn pathetic.
I’ve never felt this kind of loneliness before, not even when I was in the psychiatric hospital. Gemma has been gone for the past week, and with every day that passes, I miss her more and more. She brought an excitement to my life that no one else ever did. She became my equal, but the only way she could truly become it was by me letting her go. And she still hasn’t returned to me.
I can’t blame her. Ididkidnap her. But fuck, I miss her. I keep waiting for her to walk through the front door and run into my arms. We’d have wild sex like nothing had changed. I have to remind myself that I let Gemma go because it was the best for her. She would get seriously hurt with me one of these days, and I can’t bear the thought. Still doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt like a son-of-a-bitch.
I take a swig of my beer, the barstool creaking under me as I sway back and forth. The bar counter is sticky. I’ll have to remind Josh, the manager, to clean it better. I own a ton of bars around the city, so it’s hard to keep track of them all. Looking around, this one is a little worse for wear, but it was the closest to my house, and I needed another drink. I figure numbing my pain will make things easier, until either Gemma comes back or I die.
Chances are, I’ll die first. Gemma was missing her family so much that I doubt she’d want to come back to me. I’m just the man who kidnapped her. Fuck, I’m drunk. I set my beer down with a thud. I’m not thinking clearly and should probably go home and sleep off my drunken state.
But … another beer sounds like an even better idea. After opening another one, I practically drink it in one go. I wonder what my men would think of me. Or my enemies, for that matter. The feared Viktor Levin getting drunk because he’s missing some girl. They’d all laugh at me.
Except Gemma isn’t just some girl. She’s my wife, and I fucking love her.
Ok, that’s it. I stand up, swaying on my feet. I’m a man who takes what I want, and I want Gemma back. I’ll just show up at her house and ask if she wants to come home … but Franco is there, and he’ll probably kill me, so that’s not a good idea. And I’m drunk still … so that’s also not good.
With a sigh, I stumble out of the bar and to my car. I wonder if I’ll end up in a car crash tonight. It’s how my parents died. It would be poetic in some sick, twisted way.
I slump into my seat and start the engine, my vision blurry as I look over all the buttons and gadgets. Nothing quite makes sense. Because I’m drunk. The thought makes me laugh, and soon, I’m laughing so hard my stomach hurts, which makes me laugh even harder.
I only stop laughing when a car pulls into the lot and stops in front of mine. A large man gets out of the car and approaches me. As he comes closer to my headlights, I see it’s Marco. So, he found me. Figures. I knew Franco wouldn’t have the smarts to find me himself, but Marco? Marco is a man of action. If he wants something, he’ll get it. We’re similar in that regard.
Marco stops at my window, giving me a hard look. I take my sweet time rolling the window down. “Have you come to kill me?” I ask, my words slurring.
Marco sighs, looking more annoyed than anything else. “I have. But you’re drunk. And that’s no fun. So, instead, you’re going to come with me, Viktor.”
“Ooh. Come with you where?” I get out of the car and stumble. Marco steps out of my way as I trip on the curb and land on my ass.
“So, this is what it’s come to, then? Viktor Levin, drunk on his ass and not putting up a fight. I have to admit, I’m disappointed.”
