Chapter Forty-Nine Tyler
Chapter Forty-Nine
TYLER
WALKING THE SURPRISINGLY vacant courtyard, I take in the beauty of the lights while fully appreciating the architecture and history of Tula’s home.
Absorbing far more of the serenity surrounding me than when I was last here.
Welcoming the task in the restless minutes after depositing our sleeping babies in Larissa’s king bed.
A mutual decision made on the walk back from mass that she should be the one to wake with them until they’ve had more face-to-face with me.
An effort by the two of us to keep the co-parent transition smooth.
But even after laying them down, I could feel a shift in her openness to me as we lingered outside her villa door.
That was until Taylor appeared, double-fisting bottles of red wine, giving Larissa an excuse to switch company.
In response, Larissa had pulled Taylor inside before playfully shutting the door in my face.
But not before I caught her eyes once more, along with the sultry lift of her lips.
The little rush of that progress lingering as I do my routine pace of the grounds.
Even if the abrupt end to our time wasn’t what I hoped for, it was eons better than our last parting.
Gifting me confidence I never thought I’d feel again after the last time I stood opposite her door.
It’s that hope which drives every step I take as I search for any inconsistencies.
Even with my soldier dormant, the father remains vigilant in his watch.
Unapologetically meeting the eyes of the guards as I clear every corner.
Each glaring back in contempt as I unabashedly scan their faces to make sure they’re familiar.
The day after my first trip here, I asked Tula for a rundown of her security detail and their schedules.
A request she swiftly granted by way of Tommaso, who went to great lengths explaining their setup.
A small but unspoken alliance formed that day between Tula and me.
Fully aware of my capabilities, and being the donna she is, I’m sure she was curious if I could detect any flaws.
Even if she was smugly aware I couldn’t, considering how I got access last time by alerting the entire fucking villa of my presence within seconds.
Not at all remorseful for the guard who didn’t make or flag me that day, who subsequently lost his job.
But that’s all it takes, one slack guard or disgruntled lackey to fuck up even the most well-oiled machine.
A seconds-long distraction can cause a lifetime of misery.
Distractions that I refuse to afford anyone while Antony still breathes.
His successful evasion becoming infuriating to all surrounding us as I stroll comfortably through the yard, biding my time along with his, which remains subjective.
My true annoyance is that he both wanted and planned to claim Larissa as his wife.
Sadly, Antony isn’t my only competition.
Knowing my rights to her remain limited, my question remains unanswered about her and Alonzo’s status.
Though after our exchanges today, I’m certain she doesn’t have an answer.
Not only that, but she is actively deciding between us, even if she’s unaware of it.
It’s my inability to promise her anything tangible for the time being, other than my devotion, which keeps me idle.
Actions. That’s all I can do for her at this point.
Resigned to that, and having been since before I got here today, I focus on the task at hand, refusing to become the fuckup who missed the thing he needed to see for his children to sleep soundly.
For her to sleep soundly. I temporarily stop my search for that very reason when my phone rumbles in my pocket.
Pulling it out, I stare at the screen until it’s almost too late to answer, knowing my decision to take the call is being scrutinized before I slide my thumb to answer. “Everyone okay?”
A long pause greets me before he speaks. “Only you would be selfless enough to ask that question.”
A tense beat passes, then two.
“I’m not that selfless anymore,” I declare with ease before offering another new truth. “Or nearly as patient, which saddens me. Answer me.”
“I will,” T clips, pained, “but first tell me how you are.”
Spotting a rain puddle next to the cobblestone at my feet, I glimpse my muddled reflection and strung lights hovering above it as a notion comes to me—one day, maybe not soon, I’ll see myself clearly.
Know myself again. Taking that small comfort, I grant him my answer.
“You don’t get to know,” I state evenly. “None of you do.”
“We haven’t left you, brother,” he declares, “not for one fucking second, and never will.”
“As if I don’t know,” I exhale, aware that at least half a dozen birds’ eyes are zeroed on me right now as I shake my head in mild annoyance. “For my children, including Zach, and my parents, I’ll allow it, but pull back everything personally fucking invasive, right now. I mean it, T.”
A short pause. Another mutual decision. “Done.”
Biting back my sarcasm at the privacy I was just granted, I opt for more honesty. “Truth is, my life has drastically changed, and I’m not sure I want to keep any of you in it anymore.”
Throat burning, I end the call, knowing everyone inked and close to me just heard my message. A fight is most likely breaking out in our command center now.
As petty as it might be, most of me meant those words, and no part of me wants to resume my role as their protector.
Nor to guard or become privy to any more secrets.
All the while knowing our roles have now been reversed.
That they’re guarding me and those closest to me just as vigilantly as I have them.
It’s with that realization that I pause my footing before stopping my patrol altogether, allowing the agitation my brain and body give me in response to run its course.
I take several calming breaths as I remain firm in my decision.
The decision being to take refuge in their collective protection, reinforcing it with the reason that this security check is my hypervigilant habit, not a necessity.
Even if I walk this courtyard a thousand times, I won’t sleep any longer or more restfully, but my children will.
Because of the work I’ve already done, not the work I have yet to do.
With that freedom ringing through me, I force myself to double back toward my villa, finding both faith and trust in the decades of protection I paid for dearly while imagining a different kind of day-to-day for myself.
One that doesn’t require mental prep or somatic therapy to kickstart.
One with moments filled with my son and daughter, and the possibility of another of the unguarded smiles their mother just graced me with.
That hope fuels every step I take as liberation zings through me.
Clocking the time to start the countdown to when those moments begin, I see it’s close to Cosima’s slot for a late-night stroll with Tommaso.
Curious as to why she’s walked at such late hours, and if it has to do with preference or her condition.
Which has me anxious to learn more about Larissa’s life here.
Questions buzzing around my head as a little burst of pride for my breakthrough hums through me, I’m halfway to my villa when I spot Daniello stalking toward the life-sized nativity scene, or presepe, which is laid out beneath a sea of twinkling lights.
Knowing the drop he’s making is customary after midnight mass, I stalk in his direction as he secures the Bambino Gesù—the baby Jesus—in his rightful manger.
“Hey, man,” I greet, unsure if I want to poke this bear, but more certain that I don’t want us at odds for longer than we have to be.
As it stands now, he’s Alexander and Macey’s godfather, and I know it’s a role he’ll take seriously.
It’s also an added layer of protection I’m thankful for, and decide to say as much.
“I know I had nothing to do with it, but I want to thank you for taking it on.” I slide my hands into the suit slacks I’m grateful I packed.
“And I’ve come to make you an offer you can’t refuse. ”
When he ices me and my idiotic Godfather barbs out without so much as a glance my way, I take the lethal hint and begin heading back toward my villa.
Even with his frosty brush-off, I remain thankful for the day’s turn of events.
Exhaustion finds me as I approach the door in hopes of at least four hours of decent shut-eye.
It’s as I approach my door, I realize I’m not arriving home alone. Dread settles into me as I slowly turn to face my opponent, whose eyes blaze down my profile with unmistakable vengeance as I speak up.
“Seriously, man, now? I’m in the worst shape of my lif—”