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However, most of his drawings were of Liza—her basking in the sun in Hawaii, dancing the hula, sprawled out in his bed as his boring Egyptian cotton sheets just barely covered her naked body. He tucked the two sketches of her that he’d drawn in Hawaii—of her at the gala and on New Year’s Eve—into the sketchbook as well.
Then he spent hours working on a portrait of her, struggling to capture those expressive brown eyes of hers. Probably because they were a kaleidoscope of the emotions he’d put there—resignation, happiness, mischief, sadness, confusion, hope…love. That was the one he was trying to recreate, but seeing it in his mind’s eye hurt too much, so he kept losing sight of it.
Three days later, Henri was probably crying at work after another request from Matt that he clear his schedule, while he remained at his desk at home, drawing as if his life depended on it.
Staring at his portrait of Liza, he knew it was time.
Time to find her, to try to make things right.
Rising, he left his office and was about to head upstairs to take a shower.
Matt turned at the sound of the elevator doors opening. Only his brothers had access to these floors, so he wasn’t surprised when he turned to find Gage standing there, giving him an annoyed look.
“Okay. Time’s up, Matt.”
Matt grinned. “You’re too late. I’ve already figured that out.”
Gage must have anticipated a fight because it took a few seconds before his scowl faded replaced with a smile. “Perfect. And because I’m such a good brother, I’m going to help you.”
Matt stepped out of his car, thanking his driver, who would return upon request. Taking a deep breath, he prepared himself for the coming evening.
Gage had stopped by his apartment a few hours earlier, issuing an invitation to some “surprise” celebration dinner. Matt, anxious to find Liza, had started to refuse until Gage told him she would be there.
Matt had lived most of his adult life with regrets, the biggest being his decision to leave his mother alone the night she died.
He didn’t want to do that anymore.
Couldn’t do that.
Forcing Liza to leave had been another colossal mistake. One he had to try to make right. For his sanity, for his broken heart.
Somehow, someway, he’d find a way to earn her forgiveness for the things he’d done to her family, for the times he’d pushed her away, for…God…for all of it.
He was a Russo.
Which meant he was strong, strong enough to admit when he was wrong.
He was ruthless, ruthless enough to fight tooth and nail to deserve the love of the woman he couldn’t live without.
He was smart, smart enough to turn the tide, to point his ship in the right direction by apologizing for past sins and hurts.
He was determined, determined enough to put in the work, to put in however much time it took to win her back, to show her how fucking much he loved her.
Matt had looked deeper, and now, he was going to show the world who he really was.
Walking toward the entrance of Chives, he smiled when he saw Conor leaning against the front door.
“What are you doing outside?” Matt asked.
“Waiting for reinforcements,” Conor said, only half-jokingly. “Gage’s guest list, for whatever this is, is very Moretti-heavy.”
Matt glanced through the restaurant window, sighing when he spotted Tony and Luca. Tonight was going to be harder than he’d thought, but now that he was here, and Liza was so near, he refused to walk away.
He slapped Conor on the shoulder, a show of camaraderie. “You’d probably be smarter to go in before me. Get clear of the door. I’m going to be public enemy number one in there.”
Conor shook his head. “Gage assured me there would be no bloodshed. It was the only way I would agree to let him hold this weird shindig in my restaurant.”
That was when Matt realized there was a sign on the door that said, “Closed for private function.”
