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“Oh, I’d be glad to.” And I really would—I adore baby Luna, and I’m proud to call myself herfavoriteuncle, no matter what Riccardo says. “But I already have plans.”
“Okay.” He shrugs and pushes himself away from Riccardo’s desk, looking between us. “See you later then.”
Paolo pats my shoulder on the way to the door, and I instinctively get up to follow him. The conversation is over anyway, and I’m not sure I want to stay under Riccardo’s scrutinizing gaze. It won’t be long till he figures out that I’m hiding something, but I don’t want it to happen so soon.
I hate lying to my best friend, but Alex showing up out of nowhere…no, I can’t get him involved. I have to deal with her myself.
“Well, I guess it’s time for me to take off as well.” I wave a hand at Riccardo and turn around to the door when I hear the movement of his armchair behind me. I don’t turn around, but I stop, knowing all too well that it’s his way of telling me to stay.
“Where are you going? I didn’t know you had any tasks for today.”
It’s almost funny how Riccardo makes his voice sound so casual. Because I know him too well to think that he’s asking me out of pure curiosity. He’s not the kind of a man to speak any word without a reason behind it, and now his reason is pretty clear.
“It’s personal,” I say, staring at the door. I don’t want to pretend like I don’t have any secrets—because I know that he knows me too well.
Riccardo says nothing for a moment, but I patiently wait. I don’t have to look at him to know that he has something on his mind, and if I tried to run away now it would make him all the more suspicious.
“Does it have something to do with the Russian girl you saw yesterday?”
Shit. I purse my lips, not knowing what to say. I can’t tell him the truth, but I can’t lie so openly, so I just stay quiet—and it seems to be enough of an answer. Riccardo sighs, and I can finally hear genuine concern in his voice.
“Louis, don’t make me doubt you. Are you going to tell me what happened there?”
I take a deep breath and look at him over my shoulder. Riccardo’s gaze is heavy and set on me, and I meet it as soon as I turn around. I know he’s not gonna blame me for being reckless and allowing Alex to leave. I know his concern is genuine—but it’s not enough to change my mind.
“No. Not yet.” I give him a joyless smile and slightly bump my fist against the door frame. “I have to talk to Elena first.”
Before Riccardo says anything else, I open the door and go down the stairs to the open gates of the garage. It’s a cold and sunny November day, overwhelming with its bright colors, and I linger at the entrance to take a deep breath. From the corner of my eyes, I see Paolo’s car drive out of the parking lot, and it brings me back to our conversation.
Is Riccardo mad at me? He probably is. He doesn’t like disobedience, and for a man in his position that’s not surprising. Will he be able to understand me, though? I take a deep breath and walk to my car. I can’t be sure, and that’s exactly why I can’t tell him everything right now.
One thing I’m worried about is that if I tell everyone about my encounter with Alex, they’ll take it as a threat from the Russians, and it’ll spread to the rest of my family. But, even though she didn’t say a word, I’m sure that she wasn’t acting on behalf of the Bratva. If they wanted me, they’d send someone else.
No, Alex was looking for revenge—and that’s the second reason for my silence. If I told Riccardo and Paolo that my ex-girlfriend showed up on our doorstep and attempted to shoot me in the head, they’d get aggravated. They’d tell me to stay away from her and let them handle it, and I can’t blame them. The way Alex and I broke up wasn’t particularly satisfying for either of us.
I get into my car and pause for a moment, trying to focus on what I have to do next. My thoughts are all over the place, and inevitably they all lead to Alex. Or, not Alex? God, it was so dark under the bridge, I could’ve easily mistaken her for someone else. But her eyes, oh, her eyes I would never forget even in nine years.
Yeah, can you imagine? It’s beennine yearssince the last time I saw her—which is fair, considering how we parted ways. But I’m getting ahead of myself.
I was twenty-two, I think, or around twenty-three, when I first met Alex. She used to be a bartender in one of our clubs, and oh man, I went head over heels for her the moment I saw her—and I’m sure I wasn’t the only one.
Alex was a short and smiley girl, always full of sarcasm and vigor. She had soft blonde hair that barely reached her shoulders, a thin waist, fine features, and the most beautiful green eyes. In truth, she had the appearance of an angel and the character of a devil, and it took me exactly two weeks to get a kiss from her.
She wasn’t my first girlfriend, but she definitely was the first and only girl to steal my heart. Dad, who was still alive at the time, used to scold me for being such a lovestruck fool, but I couldn’t help it. Alex was everything I’d ever dreamed of, and in the Mafia world, that’s a big deal. You don’t get to meet new dates too often, you know?
Alex and I dated for a few weeks, and I could see that her feelings toward me were growing stronger every day. I was in seventh heaven! What else would a guy need?
But, well, nothing can be perfect, right?
One night, just after we finished exhausting each other to the second orgasm, Alex weaved herself out of my arms, sat up, and said that there was something she needed to tell me. Anyone in my place would tense up, right? Well, not me. I trusted her blindly, so I only sat next to her and asked if something had happened.
And then, Alex finally opened up to me and said that she had an eight-month-old baby at home. That was all she meant, really—but what I heard was that she wanted me to become its father. Dumb, I know, but what can you expect from a twenty-year-old?
It was the first time I had even thought about a baby in that context—and it freaked the hell out of me. I didn’t tell her right away, of course, and I tried to be as subtle about my surprise as possible. But by the morning I was too shaken to think straight, so I left her room with a goal to never come back—and in a way, I reached it.
After that night, I stopped showing up at the club where Alex worked and, the smart girl that she was, she stopped calling me a few days later. Was I happy about it? Oh, I was miserable. No matter how hard I tried to forget about Alex and pretend like I didn’t care, my thoughts kept returning to her. Even broken, my heart was still hers.
It lasted for a week or so, and when I was almost ready to go back to her and try to fix everything between us, Paolo caught her with two Russians in neutral territory. Alex turned out to be a Russian spy who we had allowed to settle in the heart of our territories. Was I the reason why others didn’t check her so thoroughly? Maybe. Dad was very mad about it, for sure.
