Present
I stare at the woman in front of me, not sure if this is an illusion and I’ve finally lost my fucking mind or if she’s really here, standing just a few feet away from me.
It’s been ten long years since I’ve seen those piercing blue eyes. Ten years since I’ve heard that angelic voice. She’s the same, yet she’s different.
She once had a lightness about her, a spark in those eyes of hers. Now there’s only something that looks a lot like pain. Probably the same pain that can be seen in mine.
I can’t do anything but stare as she stammers out an excuse to leave before she bolts out the door. And even then, I’m left staring at the spot she stood in as I try to figure out what the fuck just happened.
I made a decision a long time ago that I’d do everything in my power to never lay eyes on her again, because I knew that if I did, I’d never be able to let her go.
“Marco,” my brother barks, pulling me out of my stupor. I turn my head to look at him where he stands at the end of Robyn’s bed. “Fucking go.”
Those words finally clue me in that this is, in fact, real and that I need to move.
I spring from my seat and jog out of the room into the hallway. I look both ways, but she’s not out here. I knew the old Sloane better than I knew myself. And if the new Sloane is anything like her, I know she’ll be hiding away somewhere, trying to pull herself together so she can put her masked persona back in place.
I find the nearest women’s restroom and knock on the door before opening it a crack.
Sloane stands at the sink, hands clutching the ceramic as she tries to control her breathing. I step inside the room, but she doesn’t look up to see who’s joined her. She doesn’t need to; she knows exactly who’s just walked into the room.
“Sloane,” I say, my voice a deep rasp even to my own ears. It’s been years since I’ve said her name aloud. Her eyes close as she tips her head down, as if she’s trying to compose herself before she finally straightens and turns to look at me.
I shove my hands in my pockets to keep from reaching for her. It takes everything in me to not just say fuck it and pull her into my arms.
“What are you doing in here?” she whispers, as though she doesn’t trust her voice not to crack if she speaks at full volume.
“You really think I’d just let you run away without speaking to me?” I ask with a raised brow. “You look good… how are you?”
“I’m fine. You should get back to your wife,” she says and waves towards the door.
Wife?
What the fuck is she talking about?
Why would she… oh fuck.
I let out a chuckle. “You mean go back to my sister-in-law?”
Her breath hitches before the mumbles something I can’t make out.
“Luca got married?”
“Yeah, he did. But he’s married to a woman called Izzy. That,” I wave towards the door, “was Enzo’s wife. I was sitting with her while Enzo showered.”
“Enzo got married? Isn’t he a teenager?” she asks, bewildered.
I feel my lips tipping up in a rare smile. “He’s twenty-two, though he does act like a teenager most days.”
She smiles back at me, and… fuck.
The tightness in my chest that’s been a constant for the last ten years loosens a little at the sight.
Christ, I missed the hell out of her.
“I’ve missed that smile of yours.”
She visibly flinches at my words, but I don’t try and take them back. I’m done with the lies.
“Can we talk sometime, when you’re not working? I have some things I need to explain,” I murmur softly, not wanting to spook her. If there’s one thing I know about this girl—no, this woman—in front of me, it’s that she’s fucking good at running. I’ve waited ten years to lay my eyes on her again, I don’t want to fuck it all up now she’s finally here.
“I… I’m not sure that’s necessary. It’s been ten years, Marco. We don’t need to rehash the past, we’ve both moved on. I don’t see the point.”
Both moved on? I sure as fuck haven’t, and the quiver in her voice tells me she hasn’t, either. She never could lie to me, not really. I’m about to call her out on it when her phone chimes with a text message and she pulls it from her pocket.
Before she can stop me, I grab the phone and input my number. She changed hers when she left the city years ago—which I only know because I caved one night after drinking too much and tried to call her—and mine has changed since then, too. The move reminds me of how she stole my phone from my hand to give me her number on the night we met. I suppress a smile as I pass the cell back to her.
“Call me when you’re ready, little warrior. I’ll be waiting.”
I don’t stick around to see her reaction.
I try to focus on work, I really do.
Dad has me meeting with other capos this week since we’ve had a couple of gun shipments conveniently disappear over the last month. The last time this shit happened, it ended up escalating into an all-out war where we lost men, had a rat in our organization, and Luca ended up getting married to Izzy to secure an alliance… that ended up going to shit.
Yet no matter how much I try to focus on work, my thoughts keep shifting back to Sloane. I’ve thought about her every day for the last ten years, yet this past week it’s like it’s kicked into overdrive, and I can’t for the life of me get her off my mind.
Where does she live? Does she have friends? Where did she go and why did she come back? Is she happy? Is she seeing someone? She wasn’t wearing a ring when I saw her at the hospital, but that doesn’t mean she doesn’t have a boyfriend or isn’t dating. Or maybe she is married, and she just can’t wear a ring for work. So many possibilities and unanswered questions drown out all other thoughts and I can’t focus on anything else. Now that she’s back in my city, back in my orbit, can I really just sit around while she does whatever the hell it is that she does, knowing that she’s so close? Can I really cope with not knowing?
I make it to Friday, a whole five days, before succumbing to temptation.
The only issue is, I have no idea where to start—which is why I’m about to make what could possibly be the worst mistake of my life. That mistake being asking my sister-in-law for help.
I usually leave it to Enzo to randomly turn up at my older brother’s apartment unannounced, but I guess today I’m taking that spot. I decided to come in the afternoon, knowing that Luca is busy with Dad and that Izzy would be here alone. It’s bad enough that I’m coming to her for help, I don’t need Luca here making shit even harder.
The elevator dings as it opens up into their apartment and I spot Izzy sitting at the dining table, frantically typing away on her laptop. Her head snaps up just as I step inside, and her eyes widen when she sees it’s me.
“Marco? What’s wrong? Where’s Luca?”
Of course she’d think something was wrong. It’s been nearly a year since she joined our family and I’ve never once just turned up at her apartment. I probably should’ve texted her to give her a heads up.
“He’s fine. Everything’s fine,” I assure her as I take a seat opposite her.
“I’m here because I need your help,” I grumble.
I watch as her expression changes from worry, to confusion, to shock, until it finally settles on smug satisfaction. Izzy’s basically known from the moment we met that I was hiding shit from the family, and that it was a woman, but I’ve never offered up any more than that. Until now. She shifts her laptop to the side so she can see me more clearly and settles back in her chair.
“Of course, what can I help you with?” she asks gleefully. I’m in half a mind to just get up and walk out, but I can’t. Izzy is well aware of how much I hate this, but she knows I wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t my last option. And it’s not like I could have gone to Alec—Luca’s best friend, Izzy’s colleague, and billionaire tech novice—since he’d be fucking insufferable.
“A… friend of mine recently moved back to the city. I need you to find out what you can about where she’s been, what her life is like now that she’s back, where she lives, what she does in her free time, and if she’s… seeing someone.” The last words are spat from my mouth as bile crawls up my throat to the thought of Sloane with another man. “But don’t look into everything she got up to while she was away, I only want to know where she was,” I add, knowing that if I find out about any other men she’s been with, I’ll end up going on a murderous rampage.
“Easy. So, what’s your girl’s name?”
I take a deep breath. I’ve spent years keeping this secret, only for me to give it up now.
“Her name is Sloane,” I mumble.
“Yeah, gonna need a last name, too. I could work with only her first name, but it’ll take me a while. You do know her last name, don’t you?” she asks as she starts clicking away at her laptop.
“Fuck’s sake, Izzy, her name is Sloane O’Brien,” I bark, and her fingers pause above the keys.
“I’m sorry. Sloane O’Brien, as in Finn O’Brien’s sister, as in the sister to the head of the Mob?”
I sigh in resignation before nodding my head.
“Jesus, no wonder you kept this shit a secret. You realize this could very well start a war? I mean, probably not so much these days… but when you were younger, it definitely would have.”
“No shit. Why do you think I haven’t breathed a word about her for the last ten years? Can you help me or not?”
She rolls her eyes at me. “Of course I can.”
“And no telling Luca,” I add.
“You want me to lie to my husband?” she asks with a quirked brow.
“He can’t know about this. Not yet at least. I knew she was coming back to the city, but I was kinda just living in denial until she walked into Robyn’s hospital room, clipboard in hand, ready to fucking examine her. And now that I’ve seen her, I can’t let it go. I need to know.”
“Fine. But Luca just texted to say he’ll be home soon, so unless you’re ready for his probing questions, you might wanna get the hell out of here. I’ll text you with everything I find.”
“Thank you,” I say as I stand and head towards the door, ignoring Izzy as she mumbles, “These goddamn Romano boys using me to stalk women.”
