Chapter 65
TYLER
FLEXING MY ITALIAN with Daniello, I roll my eyes over his shoulder to Ignacio, whom I was introduced to briefly by Larissa, just as Tula demanded the gift exchange begin.
His own eyes dart around as he sits ramrod straight on the couch.
Fingers flexing in his lap as he makes it apparent that his insides match my own from minutes ago.
Sadly, he was far too easy to spot in the lineup before our introduction, reason being he’s a younger replica of his father.
A reminder that I’m sure, at times, pains both Larissa and Cosima.
Though I’ve maintained since I joined the crowded room, I’ve remained aware of Larissa’s every move since entering with Alexander.
Thankful for the time cleaning him up gave me to collect myself, as his presence both calmed and fueled me to make it back to her.
Realizing with each minute that passed what a genuine caregiver she is.
Despite her status, she didn’t let a champagne flute go empty the first twenty minutes.
Pouring generously between taking each new arrival’s coat.
Dotting them warmly with dual kisses before intercepting Tommaso to situate her mother with a window view.
Never once going more than a few minutes without glancing my way, trying her best not to make it obvious.
The sting of her overt attention, along with the want of it, conflicting me.
My need to get back to the intimacy we shared earlier never once leaving me during the first hour, as she tirelessly catered to everyone.
To her mother now, as she opens a gift for her while studying her with a palpable melancholy.
My heart aching with the knowledge that Larissa was orphaned so young and lost her innocence due to her father’s evil.
Her confession for my comfort in the bathroom residing deep, while raising the question of how I could have cured her fear of the darkness.
The questions multiplying as I watch her, her words stoking hope that we can collectively protect our children from the evils of the world—agreeing wholeheartedly that we need to make them aware of them at some point.
Something I’m growing more confident in navigating with her as I watch her with her family.
These epiphanies acting as tiny, hope-fueled explosions in both head and heart as I try to bat away residual embarrassment to savor the moment it brought us to after.
To the closeness I felt and have missed since our implosion.
Unaware of just how much I had longed for it, for her, until I could finally see past some of the fog.
My selfish shit and collapse having utterly interrupted my view of her daily struggles.
That damning truth is more evident as I begin to realize that I, too, am another in a line of those close to her dealing with mental issues.
A burden I don’t at all want to add to her list if I can help it.
But it’s as I watch her now, actively grieving the loss of her mother while doing what she can to make the best of the situation, that I vow to help her shoulder her burdens in any way possible.
Mind set on starting with that effort, I flit my eyes back to Ignacio, knowing that if there’s a way to get through his barricade of paranoia, that’s the place to start.
It’s when the sound of shattering glass rings out that I follow his line of sight to where Larissa stands, rapidly paling.
Already stalking toward her, it’s Tula’s question that has me hastily cutting through all bodies separating us.
“Larissa, che c’è?” Larissa, what’s wrong?
The room grows quiet as Larissa stares at the glass at her feet, slowly inching away from the liquid pooling toward her slippers, and Tula lifts a box from the floor, her shout piercing the air. “Pigliateve ’na cazzo di scopa e aprite le porte!” Grab a fucking broom and open the doors!
Reaching Larissa just after, I gently grip her arm in prompt.
Jerking back at the contact, she rips it from my grip, her features smoothing out after she blinks the hurt in her return gaze away.
Dread settles in as I sink to the floor between us, grabbing what remains of the bottle and turning it in my palm—Chanel.
Unable to hold my flinch, I utter Larissa’s name just as she turns, plucking Macey from Tula’s youngest before barking to the nanny in summons for Alexander.
Taking long strides to exit the room, Larissa holds her palm up, stopping Alonzo just as he steps forward to intercept her, four guards closing in behind her retreat while Tula shouts another furious order.
“Nessuno esce!” Nobody leaves. Her unforgiving eyes grip mine with her next. “You, come with me.”
Nodding, I stalk forward to follow, fury blasting throughout me with every stride until I pause my feet, forcing myself to take a calming breath before stepping up to Alonzo. His death glare already trained on me when I speak. “You too.”
“Fuck you,” he spits, unable to mask his own fury.
“It’s not an order, I’m asking.” I glance back at Iggy, whose eyes are fixed on him. “She needs you.”
Twenty minutes later, I’m surrounded by Tula’s most trusted captains, who rapidly spew Italian as Alonzo and I stand idly by.
He, too, searches each of them for signs as to who the culprit might be.
One who aided in getting the gift into the compound and under the tree.
Tommaso actively threatening every man in the room, retribution in his tone as they each plead their innocence.
It’s when Tula lifts her eyes to mine, scrutinizing my return expression, that she holds up her hand, silencing them all instantly.
“Out.” She waves them away, reading my unspoken ask with her careful gaze before halting Alonzo with the lift of her chin. “You stay too.”
The second the door closes and I hear the retreat of Tommaso’s footfalls, I lean in, speaking barely above a whisper. “Don’t mark him.”
Tula gapes at me in response, keeping her voice just as muted, a display of trust on her part for me. “You can’t be serious.”
“If he sent it, it’s what he’ll expect you to do.”
“If?” she scoffs. “Your man—”
“Julien,” I correct.
“He’s taken too long already.”
“Julien is the best tracker on earth.” I keep her eyes, relaying all I can. “If he hasn’t found him, there’s a good explanation. On this, I need you to trust me.”
“Forgive me if I can’t give it to you so freely.”
“Understandable, but you know I would never endanger my own children to engage in a pointless cockfight.” I flit my eyes to Alonzo to drive the point home, even as he sneers in mockery.
Lowering them back to Tula, I do my best to reason with her.
“This is about Alexander’s and Macey’s futures, as well as the futures of your own children. ”
She crosses her arms. “I’m listening.”
“It requires a lot more explanation than we have time right now, but for this to work, I’m going to need your blind help,” I state, lifting my eyes to Alonzo. “Yours especially.”