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Though we're apart, she is with me still. The sensation of her touch lingering on my skin, her voice echoing through my mind, the essence of her soul poured into my heart.
I get back in the Maserati and speed toward my family compound, eager to bask in the lingering glow of Tatiana's presence. But as I enter the gates, several of my men rush out to meet me, panic etched on their faces.
My heart seizes. "What's happened?"
"It's your father, Boss," one of them says urgently. "His condition has taken a turn for the worse. The doctors were here."
The glow evaporates, cold dread flooding my veins. I race into the house and up the stairs to my father's room, where he lies pale and still wrapped in silken bedclothes.
I sink beside him, grasping his frail hand. "I'm here, Dad. I'm here."
He opens his eyes, cloudy with pain and illness, and fixes them upon me. "My son," he rasps. "There is not much time."
"Don't talk like that," I protest, even as I know it's the truth. Tears burn in my eyes and throat. "You're going to be alright."
"No, I won't be here much longer." He squeezes my hand with surprising strength. "But before I go, I need to know you will carry on in my place. And that you will find a good woman, as I did in your mother, to stand by your side."
I think of Tatiana and the love blossoming between us. But it's too soon to let her into this life in the manner my father demands, too soon to ask her to enter its dangers. She has her world, entirely the opposite to my own.
"Dad, I can't—" The words stick in my throat, and I swallow hard. "There is a woman. But I don't know if she will accept me, accept us, in a role of permanence or if it is even right to ask her."
"You must try," he insists. "A strong woman at your side will make you a better leader. Promise me you'll tell her the truth about who you are and give her the choice to share this life with you."
I nod, unable to deny him this final request. "I promise, Dad."
I peer into my father's eyes, which hold a feverish gleam. His hand trembles as he reaches for mine. "Bring her to me," he says. "I must meet this woman who has claimed my son's heart before I die."
My chest tightens at his words. I have only just confessed my feelings to Tatiana, and though she accepted them, I do not know if she fully understands what this life consists of. "Father, you ask too much. Tatiana is not one of us. She may not wish to be part of this life."
"You'll deny your dying father his final wish?"
I stare at him, torn between duty and love. He has ruled this family for over thirty years, but he does not understand. Tatiana is light to my darkness, a gentle rain to my raging storm. This is my biggest fear. I am breaking the love of my life because of my involvement in the mafia.
Yet, as I meet his gaze, I see in it his love for me and his hope for my future. He has given everything for this family, including his health and his life. How can I deny him this final wish to see me settled before he goes?
I bow my head, hiding my troubled eyes. "I will bring her to you," I say softly. My father smiles, appeased, but I brace myself for Tatiana's reaction. She may accept me for who I am, but welcoming my world with open arms is another matter entirely.
"That is all I needed to hear," my father rasps, a relieved smile softening his pale, lined face. His eyes drift shut, his chestmovement slowing. "Now I can rest. Prepare to bring her here tomorrow. I would have taken her out for a meal, but alas, I'm far too tired."
"Don't worry, Father, I will bring her here," I whisper, and make myself comfortable nearby only to watch him fall asleep.
Chapter 14
Tatiana
My phone rings, shattering the early morning silence in the hotel room. I lift two neatly stacked piles of clothes before locating them. I glanced at the caller ID, but I did not recognize the number. It’s a foreign three-digit thing. I silence it, thinking it must be spam.
It rings again, and I cast aside the jewelry I'm just packing to stare at it. What if it's? – I pick up – I was right.
"Hello,mia cara," his smooth voice purrs through the speaker. "How are you this morning?"
"Philippe," I flop down on the bed, my heart throbbing at a million miles a second. I hadn't expected to hear his voice, and now that I do, memories from the previous night flood back. I nestle into myself, tuck my legs beneath my ankles, and twirlmy hair like a teenager talking to her high school crush. "You called!"
"Of course, I called,Tesoro. Though, I will admit, your ability to ignore me just a few seconds ago is not why I admire you."
"Don't you know?" I tease regarding the call I didn't pick up, mistaking it for spam. "I was busy with one of my many admirers."
"As long as none of those are in your bed, I'm okay," he states matter-of-factly. Like I'm his, and that's all that matters.
