‘I need your help with this.’ I point a finger at the screen and turn my chair around to make space for Rosa to step closer. She pushes her chair back and walks toward me.
‘The charities basically run themselves. If you’d rather not concern yourself with them, then I repeat, you don’t have to.’ She blinks down at me from her perch on my desk and then swings her gaze to the computer.
‘Why do you feel the need to repeat that?’ I angle my head and peer at her until she lifts her face from the screen.
I’m at Amory Corp with Romero. We’d dropped Lucian off at school and then driven straight down here. It has been a few days since I’ve been here, with my move-in with Lucian and the entire struggle of settling in. But this morning has been a lot calmer, less jarring, and I’ve felt a lot more useful.
And just as I said, I’m taking an avid interest in running the charities. Except I don’t understand why Rosa seems to think I shouldn’t. Or maybe that I don’t. I can’t seem to decide which it is.
Rosa shrugs and pushes her glasses up her nose as she always does when she doesn’t know what to say, or maybe in this situation, doesn’t know what to say that won’t offend me. Her blond hair is styled in a bun with the fringe a lot longer than it usually is.
It’s almost unkempt, which rings a bell. Something’s wrong. It’s not just her hair; her eyes are dark, bags are already pumping under them, and her body is stiff under the already stiff cut of her two-piece tailored pantsuit.
‘No one paid any attention to it. You shouldn’t feel the need to pay it any attention. Xander doesn’t want any attention drawn to it. It’ll be one more weakness on his long line of weaknesses.’
I tilt my head to fix her with a glare. ‘It’s a fucking charity, Rosa. I’m not planning on splashing the news on the TV screens.’ I inhale, and my shoulders deflate.
I lower my voice and swing my head around the office, even though it’s just the two of us. ‘I want to help. I need to have something of my own. Something I can do. And this is it.’
Rosa twists her lips in a wry smile. ‘Fine. We can arrange a day for you to visit the hospitals, maybe one of the charity homes. Maybe you can talk to the kids too.’
She still doesn’t understand. I snap a hand into the desk and watch as she startles. I curl my fingers into a fist. ‘No maybes. We’re doing this. We’ve held off on it long enough. I’d also like to make some more money for the charities.’
Her jaw bunches, and suddenly, I don’t understand her reluctance. This had been her idea. She’d wanted me to do this. Why the sudden change of mind?
The threat of the world finding out Xander had a few charities had been there when she’d first asked if I’d be interested in taking over. ‘Xander has enough money to run the charities. You don’t need to do that.’
I lean towards her, and though I know I shouldn’t, I place a hand on her thighs. She jerks away from me but doesn’t get off the table. ‘What’s wrong, Rosa.’ I wave a hand between us when she goes to reply. ‘Don’t you dare fucking lie to me either. Something’s wrong. What is it?’
She grimaces, and her voice rumbles out of clenched teeth as a rumble. ‘Shouldn’t you ask Xander? He’s your husband.’
I give her a cold glower and fold my hands across my stomach. ‘And you’re here. Right in front of me, worried about me. Why the hell shouldn’t I ask you?’
She inhales and exhales, her chest rising and falling. She tilts her head to the door and leans into me like I had. ‘I can’t say much. Xander doesn’t want you worried or in fear. But things aren’t as they should be.’
My heart quakes and flips like an obstacle in a hurricane. I bite my lip to hold back the cry on my tongue.
Then, I ask the question that I’m most worried about. ‘Is he in danger?’ Even the thought of it has my stomach queasy and cold.
Rosa’s eyes are flinty. ‘È solo di questo che ti preoccupi?’ Do you not understand what I’ve just said?’
What else was there to worry about? Xander would never let any harm come to his son. And by extension, that meant no harm would come to me. He would lay down his life to protect his child. So why wouldn’t I worry about him? I sure as hell knew he wouldn’t worry about himself.
‘I do understand. But if this is war, who does he have on his side?’
‘An entire army of men who will lay their lives on the line for him. Who do you have on your side, Melissa? The Mafia is no joke. How many deaths have you seen?’
I back away from her. This was getting gory. And I had thought I wanted to know, but now I’m not certain.
Do I really want the gory details? The death? The guns? The violence? The darkness embedded in these men like diamonds in dust?
I heave, and a surge of air streams out of my nose. ‘Let’s come back to the Charities. Tell me what I need to know.’
Rosa cranks her neck, and then she stretches. ‘There’s three. Two contributing towards a cancer cause. If you’ve seen his father, you’ll understand why. The last provides support for children who grew up in abusive homes. If you know his family, then you’ll understand why too.’
God. How much worse can it get? It makes total sense why he keeps his involvement hidden. Possibly under layers of businesses and corporations that will ensure any contribution from him can never be traced back to him.
I nod sharply and turn to the screen. ‘Arrange the meetings. I’ll meet the leaders and directors of these charities.’
‘What do you mean directors?’ Rosa returns to the chair opposite.
I look up at her. ‘Isn’t there someone running these places?’
‘I think you’ll understand when you visit.’ She places her head against the chair and blows her fringe off her forehead.
‘Then hasten the arrangements,’ I say, my voice as commanding as I can make it. I need her to understand she can’t weasel out of this. ‘And I’m visiting my father from here. Just in case my husband wants to know.’
She nods and pushes to her feet, straightening her suit over her shoulders so the fabric drops into place like armor. ‘I’ll call him. Or you could do it yourself, Melissa. You have an authority I don’t think you understand yet.’
With those cryptic words, she turns on her heels and marches out of the room. She holds the door open and exchanges a few words with Romero who sticks his head into the room and gives me a hard stare.
I ignore them. The screen on the computer already shows a long list of people who have in some way benefitted from the charities.
Rosa had sent it to me this morning when I arrived, along with the list of people who need help and how much money I’d need to sign for.
My heart squeezes. The money is illegal. It’s the fucking Mafia. I know that much, but it’s for a good cause.
I look up. I don’t know how much later when the door opens, and Romero steps in. I watch as he strides to the desk and stops with his hand folded respectfully behind his back.
‘It’s lunch break. What shall I order?’
I smile up at him. ‘What time is it?’
‘A few minutes past noon. The entire building should be emptying in a few minutes.’
Who knew hardened men ate lunch? I’d have thought they inhaled torture and pain for sustenance. Jesus Mel! Get a grip.
‘I’ll have a salad. Maybe a green tea to go along with it.’
My phone trills on the table, and Romero’s eyes swing towards it. ‘Marito’ is written across the screen. I smile as I swipe the phone up and answer.
Romero nods and turns away, shutting the door behind him. I relax into the chair and giggle finally.
‘I expect I’m not the one who’s being funny without saying a word, am I?’ Xander’s crispy baritone meets my seeking ears.
I giggle some more and succumb to the light floating through my chest. It feels so good to be in this state where we’re just fine. No animosity, no pain, no anger. Just us.
‘Why would you think that mio marito?’ I purr at him, my core tightening deliciously when a rigid pause greets my ears. I exhale a rush of shaky air and graze a finger over my breasts.
Then I pull my hand away sharply. I want his touch; mine that had always sufficed just doesn’t feel the same anymore.
‘What did you say?’ His voice is tight with lust. And I can almost imagine his blue eyes feasting on me. My skin tightens, tensing, pounding in the air between us.
‘Which? My husband?’
His raspy exhale is rushed and sexy as hell. A pant escapes my lips. It’s ridiculously apparent how much he wants me. It’s palpable how much it is that I want him right back.
‘You tease! Say it the other way. Now.’
A breathy little moan slips into the air. I press the phone close to my lips so he can imbibe every word. ‘Mio marito. My own. My husband.’
‘I’m calling Romero. He’s bringing you down here right now. Pack your things.’
I laugh finally, the sound bursting out like fairy dust to shower joy over us. ‘I can’t. I’m working.’
‘Fuck work.’ He stops, the pause short but conscious. ‘I need you.’
‘How about you come down here?’
‘I can’t. There’s something here that I can’t leave.’ The words are like a stream of cold water over my warm flesh. I press my eyes closed and wiggle uncomfortably. But he doesn’t allow me to lose him. ‘But I will be home early. And I swear, I’ll take you in so many different ways walking will be a chore. It’s a promise.’
My nipples bud up against the soft, lacy fabric of my bra. ‘I look forward to it, Mi’lord.’
‘Goodbye. I really just wanted to hear your voice. Now I have a raging hard-on for my troubles. You’re a distraction, Sole.’
He hangs up abruptly, and I spend a few good minutes imagining him in his office, maybe touching himself to the thought of me, craving me as much as I want him, need him.
Submitting to him somehow feels good. It’s better than fighting him. And him putting me on an even keel feels even better.
It makes me drip, makes me itch for his touch, makes me needy in a way he alone can satisfy. And without warning, I want to be home.
It’s almost six, and I’ve worked myself into a lather thinking about him. So I’m definitely not expecting Romero to stalk into the room after a single knock, his brow jumping, his face dark with a forceful glare.
‘We need to go.’ He packs my large black Birkin without asking my permission as usual, and I don’t question him despite my almost desperate need to ask what’s wrong. There will be enough time to probe in the car.
Rosa is at the door, her face drained of color, so she looks almost ashen. She swivels and walks ahead of us, already barking words into the wire clipped into her ear.
‘Bring the car around. No stops until she’s home. I repeat, no stops.’
I walk faster till I’m beside her. Immediately she’s done talking, I break into the minute silence. ‘What’s going on?’
Her chest expands on a deep exhale, and I realize her glasses are foggy. ‘Someone found out about Xander’s dad. There’s a fucking uprising. We need to make sure you’re safe. You’re heading to his father’s where security is max.’
Damnit. Then I freeze and tug her to a stop, my chest too tight, my vision wobbling. ‘Where’s my son? Where’s Lucian?’
She stops and tips her head to Romero and I know without doubt none of them had even thought about him.
