Chapter 313

Maybe last night was a fluke or maybe he’s changed his mind now he has had space from me all day and realised the committed relationship stuff wasn’t really for him.

My heart literally stops, as does my breath as my lungs pause painfully. Instant panic that maybe he doesn’t want me anymore and I’m just really slow to catch-up.

It has the same effect as ripping my heart right out.

“What is with you tonight?” The words are out before I can filter them, strained, panic-ridden suddenly, and he just throws me back a strange pensive expression, a little surprised that I can sense it, before pulling open the cupboard for his coffee and supplies to get his machine going.

Alexi isn’t used to being read, I guess. He is normally so good at keeping all things under a mask. Which only adds to the weight of my growing hysteria that maybe I’m right, and he really is backtracking his love confession and that’s why he was so cold earlier.

“I have a lot on my mind. Sit. We need to talk.”

Bossy, demanding, no hint of love, and I consider walking out and going back downstairs. I’m not in the right frame of mind for arsehole Mafia boss. I already feel fragile and I know he possesses the switch to my crying mechanism. Now there is this added weird atmosphere and my nerves are telling me he is about to dump me before we are even a thing; I suddenly feel sick and bordering on dizziness so intense I sway on my feet slightly.

“Tea?” He asks in afterthought, his tone a little softer this time. It’s almost as though he’s reading me just as well as I’m reading him and backs off, knowing he’s being a jerk. Sensing my heightened emotions. I nod when he throws me a gentler look with a hint of a smile that brings out those dimples and he fills the kettle and turns it on.

“Ok, so now I know something is up. When do you make me tea?” I query nervously, voice a little high with nerves.

“About to break up with me or something?” It’s a bad attempt at veiling a genuine fear with humour and it gets me a confused frown flicked my way.

“No.” He lets out a disbelieving chuckle, a second glance that hints he is contemplating if I’m serious, and then sighs. His face dropping as he realises that maybe I might be serious and hits me with an intense look, all seriousness oozing into his expression and manner.

“I love you, Cam. Nothing’s changed. Just relax and have a little faith in my feelings. They aren’t something I can switch off or lose interest in. I’m sorry I was an asshole. I honestly didn’t think you would take it this way. It won’t happen again, I promise.” Another concerned little furrowed glance and he turns back to what he is doing, surprised that that’s what would be in my head. Taking a moment to think while he does what he is doing.

It isn’t a slushy begging for my forgiveness, but it’s an acknowledgement he did wrong; although I’m still smarting, and he hasn’t unruffled my feathers completely.

Those three words though, they are very effective when he uses them the right way.

I move to sit on the couch, anger and all the messy stuff inside me dissipating slightly with that one little reassurance. So easily swayed by him, despite myself, and just in need of something solid to take me off my Bambi legs. I feel like my limbs are turning to jelly.

I slide down as elegantly as I can, pulling my feet to the side and slide my stilettos off. My feet almost sing with gratitude at being released from their tight prison after a night spending too much time on them. I rest my arm over the back of the couch to appear more relaxed than I am, and watch him getting mugs out ready, looking oddly domestic for him. He keeps glancing my way with a little unsure glimmer on that face and it adds to the dampening effect on my upset.

I think he’s genuinely surprised that I thought he would end us, which smooths over a little of my anger even more.

“Santagato isn’t behind the attempted abduction of you.” It comes out so unexpectedly. A random statement breaking the silence between us. I literally gawp at him as he continues readying my mug with a tea bag, taken aback by that. Stunned.

“What? He said that?” I blink at him in utter disbelief, heart plummeting once more, wondering if he would believe the man denying it.

“I didn’t ask him, or for any favours either. The conversation took an early turn which cemented the fact it wasn’t him.” Alexi turns and walks towards me to let the coffee machine do its thing and comes and sits down right beside me, pulling my free hand into his lap and surrounds it with both of his snugly. Capturing me and wiping away even more of my hostility with such an affectionate touch. A reminder of last night and this morning which thaws my frost some more.

“I … umm … what?” It’s all that comes out of my stupefied mouth as my brain tries to catch up, distracted by the warmth of those strong hands and how they dwarf mine gently. The immense sense of overwhelming relief that he’s back with me, not a hostile nasty-mouthed prick, but this one. Hand holding and I love you, and I realise I’ve been so overwrought all day with the fear he was a complete figment of my imagination all along that it was manifesting in getting ready to dump him and run. That it was all a lie and I was setting myself up for heartbreak all over again.

I am an insecure mess.

But he’s here, looking at me with that gentle calm face, eyes softer, tone lower, hands on mine. I exhale and let it all go in one ‘close to tears’ breath I’ve been holding in all day. Not all the way to forgiveness, but he’s right, I knew why and got so caught up in the emotion of it all.

“Santagato didn’t come to see me because of what happened with his son. He came to ask for intel. His mistress was found floating in the river at dawn and he doesn’t think it was suicide.”

The blood literally drains from my face, pulled back from my selfish thoughts as I watch Alexi’s expression turn completely deadpan, his whole manner slowing down to that scary precise way he has when he is outwardly controlling all signs of emotion. He doesn’t want to give me a reason to freak out.

It’s a huge reason to do so though and his reaction, the deathly seriousness of it, only brings on the freak-out faster. I stop breathing and grip his fingers so tightly I cut off blood circulation.

“A few weeks ago, Dimitri Carmichael, another family head, found his long-term submissive hanging in her apartment. At the time they thought it was suicide, but it’s looking a little too coincidental. Going after the mistresses of the most powerful men in New York. Add your attempted abduction as a possibility, and it looks a little less random and more premeditated and specific.”

I choke on a cough while trying to inhale and panic as I try to breathe, words tumbling out painfully.

“Why them, us? Why not families or wives?” I lean forward to cough it out shifting my whole body to a sitting position as I attempt to catch my breath and Alexi places a warm hand on my back and rubs it to help soothe me. His flat palm working smoothly in circles and giving me something to cling to, to focus on as I stop myself from outright hyperventilation. Fear turning me cold as it sinks in that he was right all along, and a real threat has been looming over me all this time.

“They are sending a message, not trying to start a war. No mob boss would retaliate over a meaningless piece of skirt.”

This gets a gasping wide-eyed look thrown his way, that hint of venomous anger returning, and I sit up harshly.

“I forgot … in your world unless you marry us then we are worthless and at the bottom of the pecking order. Disposable commodities you don’t give a shit about.” I sound furious even though I know it’s not his fault. That he cares about me. It’s just how it is. Women in this game are meaningless and easy to replace. Like I was. His show downstairs in front of Santagato is the norm for women like me and only reminds me that he isn’t the norm with me. I matter, even if he was being a complete idiot. The proof is right here now.

Whores are ten-a-penny to a man with power and money. Only wives and family have any value or hold any sort of stance where respect is concerned. Whoever is going after the women in their lives know this and see them as disposable toys that won’t harbour any real come back.

“Well, that is an option. Would take you out of the firing line.” His solution earns him my fierce snapping back in.

I glare at him this time as he takes all the romance out of what would be him suggesting marriage and shake my head angrily. I won’t do something as drastic as that just to stay safe. Hurt that, to him, marriage would be a useful tool rather than a need to spend his life with me.

“I’ll pass on your dutiful plan. Don’t do me any favours!” I snap under my breath, aching inside a little too much at something so dumb. It’s not that I ever thought about marriage, ever, or is even something I want, it’s just something like that should not be a second thought resolution to a problem like this. It should mean something.

Alexi just sighs at me, sensing this is not the mood I need to be in to go down that route and carries on instead.

“Whoever is behind this, they know how it works and is close enough to have specifics on who we are fucking. They had to have seen us together to click that you and I had merit. Back then, we were … complicated, but they still knew I cared about you.”

I feel like everything just stops, including time and my heartbeat as my anger falls away once more, shocked out of me with real fear. It slides down to my feet along with my body warmth and my security and puddles on the floor limply.

“So, they might try again? I might not be safe?”

Oh, God. Oh, God. Oh, God.