Chapter 11
Chapter Eleven
Rayna
Ididn’t expect to be so spectacularly bored within only hours of Yordan leaving the apartment. I already made myself breakfast, cleaned the dishes from last night, and eventually changed my clothes.
If I didn’t expect to see Apollo’s smug face again today, I probably wouldn’t have bothered. But a T-shirt and jeans are much more presentable than the skimpy shorts I had on this morning. The last thing I need is for him to get any ideas about my appearance.
The new outfit, though not entirely well-fitted, was comfortable enough to move around in.
So, after an hour without another idea of what to spend my time on, I decided to try and be productive.
Starting with arranging the kitchen in a more comfortable manner.
Plates and bowls did not belong in the cabinets next to the stove.
Despite some of the strange placement for things, I couldn’t deny how extensive the provided supplies appeared to be.
Apollo must have told whoever shopped for him to buy anything that could be used in a kitchen, and they took him entirely too literally.
Just for serving and eating alone, I have multi-sized cups, mugs, plates, bowls, spoons, forks, and knives.
There are enough pots and pans to run a commercial kitchen, not to mention all of the utensils for stirring, scooping, frying, baking…
the works. The appliances are even more ridiculous.
Aside from the common stove, dishwasher, microwave, toaster, and coffee machine, there’s loads of little devices hidden away in a vast cabinet.
An expensive stand mixer, a waffle maker, an air fryer, a pressure cooker, and a fucking panini press just to name a few.
It’s overkill times a thousand, and I hate that I love it.
I could make anything at the drop of a hat, without having to find some creative way to do it with a pan on the stove.
I don’t even want to know what other surprises this apartment has in store for us.
I feel like there could be gold bars in my bathroom cabinet at this rate.
Once I finished, an immediate temptation to whip up some kind of pastry or simple sweet for when Yordan returned set in, but it was almost too overwhelming to act on.
I’ve always hated this kind of mood, when there’s a million things you could do, and you want to do something, but the motivation somehow slips you by.
It happens to me more often than I’d like to admit.
So instead of testing out my oven, I’m sitting on the couch, drinking a smoothie and watching a movie that lost my interest twenty minutes ago.
My mind is too busy wondering about things that I can’t witness or control. How are things in Chicago? Is Federico’s family on a rampage? Does Abramo truly not care about what Yordan did? Is Yordan okay with Apollo and Elio? Is he having fun? Are they going to feed him lunch?
“Ughhh,” I audibly groan, running a hand down my face. “You need to do something, Rayna. You’re a capable adult, you can entertain yourself while Yordan is gone. He’s fine.”
Hearing my voice, hearing the words trying to reassure me, it doesn’t help one bit.
“He’s fine, but you’re not, you crazy bitch,” I mumble. “Talking to yourself like a whacko cannot be healthy.”
Flipping over on my stomach, I grab my phone and swipe open the screen, hoping to see a text from Yordan.
No notifications.
“Of course,” I huff, dropping the device once more.
I’m about to bury my face into the cushion to scream or cry or I don’t know, something dramatic, when a few short knocks startle me from where I lay.
A hit of unease sinks into my gut, as the reality that I’m all alone becomes dangerously clear.
If it were Yordan at the door, he could let himself in. He has a key.
Why didn’t I ask him where he put his gun?
Why didn’t I demand that Apollo give me one as well?
My phone pings with a text before I can decide how to proceed.
Leon
Sorry if I’ve startled you, it’s just me at the door. I should have had security ping you first.
My shoulders drop in immediate relief, and I hop off the couch, clutching my phone close.
Approaching the door, I quickly rise up on my tip toes and check the peep hole.
Sure enough, Leon’s familiar features meet my eye.
And he’s not alone, in his arms, the sweetest small boy rests his head against his father’s shoulder, cuddling close.
Fumbling to unlock the several latches, I try not to make the man wait any longer.
I’m not sure why he’s here, but I doubt it’s to cause me harm while he’s carrying around his toddler.
Perhaps I wouldn’t trust a strange man with a child, but I saw Leon with Leo before, and he’s an undeniably loving father. He’d never put him in harm’s way.
Swinging open the heavy oak door, I muster my best smile. “Sorry, I wasn’t expecting anyone.”
“My fault,” Leon replies, not at all looking put out by the small wait. “I should have called first. Leo and I were in the area…”
“Please,” I rush out, stepping aside. “Come in.”
As the second eldest Moretti son and his child step over the threshold, I shut the door behind them, making sure to turn the locks.
“Uhm, Yordan isn’t here,” I say awkwardly. “He left with Apollo and Elio awhile ago.”
“You didn’t want to go with them?”
My nose scrunches on instinct. “And spend more time with Apollo? No thanks.” Once the words leave my lips, I internally facepalm. “I mean…shit, I didn’t mean to insult your brother to your face.”
Leon chuckles. “Believe me, it’s fine. We came to see you, as it is.”
My lips part, surprise filling me. “You did?”
Leon arches a brow, looking strikingly like Apollo with the smooth action. “Is that so shocking?”
“I mean…” I trail off, not knowing what else to say. “Er, here, you can come in and sit. I don’t really have any toys Leo could play with, but we could put on a cartoon?”
Leo’s head perks right up at the sound of the word cartoon.
“Bluey?” he asks, slurring the word so it sounds more like Bw-uey.
“If you don’t mind, thank you,” Leon agrees. “I like to reward him when he recognizes an English word. Bluey in Italian is his favorite.”
“Shoot, I should have asked about screen time before I uttered the word cartoon.” I wince, waving the two further into the apartment. “Sorry if I overstepped.”
“You’re fine,” Leon says, brushing it off.
“Cartoons at this age are good for development. Especially when he’s been doing so well learning English.
We speak both with him at home, of course, but he deserves a little time where he can just enjoy his language and doesn’t have to think about much else. It’s a good break.”
“Bluey it is, then.”
It takes me a minute to get the cartoon cued up in Italian, but once it starts playing, Leo is completely enraptured, smiling big as he snuggles himself into the couch, watching the television with wide eyes.
“Can I get either of you something to drink? There’s an absurd number of options in my fridge.”
Leon chuckles. “Not right now, thank you.”
I nod, dropping down a few feet on the couch from the father and son. “So, what brings you two by? Not that I’m complaining…”
“We really were in the area,” Leon admits. “Leo had a check up with our family doctor, so we stayed the night at Dad’s. Bastian was home sick after all the travel so he went home with Cleo, we’ll be heading back in a couple hours when traffic isn’t so shit.”
“You guys live farther from the main house right? Yordan said you’re an underboss with more of your own territory?”
“Yes, well, sort of,” he replies. “It’s all my father’s territory, but I manage the furthest bits of it. I live a few hours south of here, and our control extends a couple hours further than that. It’s just strategic. No one is ever too far. Like Emilio and Melani live closer to New York.”
“Makes sense.”
An uncomfortable silence follows, only the sound of the TV filling the room. How long has it been since I had to share a polite adult conversation with someone about anything other than my brother? Have I forgotten how to act? Say. Something.
“Um, I have your clothes,” I blurt out suddenly. “I can go upstairs and get them if you want them back. Well, all except one shirt. Apollo has that.”
Giving me a sideways glance, Leon chuckles. “He does, does he?”
“Oh!” I startle, understanding the implication. “Not like that, he’s just, it’s stupid. He gave me one of his that night. He said something about not wanting to upset your wife—”
The amusement in Leon’s expression vanishes.
“Trust me, she wouldn’t have cared about the shirt.
I did want to apologize for Cleo’s coldness toward you on the flight, though.
It’s part of why I stopped in. She isn’t welcoming toward new people, her and Melani only just became sort of friendly, and they’ve known each other for years now. ”
“Oh.” I swallow, shaking my head. “It’s fine. She didn’t even say anything.”
“No, but she looked at you like you kicked her puppy the entire time,” Leon says with a grimace. “Not exactly a pleasant thing to do, nor a way to make you feel safe while surrounded by our family.”
“It’s really okay,” I insist, though I’m kind of happy he’s offered the apology either way. “I wasn’t nice to Apollo either. I yelled at him. Several times. Threw your shirt at him, too.”
A grin grows on his lips. “Yes, well, Apollo is a P R I C K.”
He spells out the word rather than uttering it, likely not wanting Leo to pick up on the naughty vocabulary.
I can’t help but grin in return. “You said it, not me.”
My phone chimes, and I look down, groaning at the screen.
“Speak of the devil.”
Apollo
You still haven’t ordered clothing.
“What does our overlord want?” Leon asks.
“A swift kick right between the legs,” I grumble, starting to text back.
Rayna
You still haven’t lost the ability to speak to me. So I suppose we’re both disappointed.
“He’s nagging me to buy things,” I explain, looking back toward Leon. “Clothes, toiletries, etc. He won’t shut up about it.”
“Not big on shopping?”
“Not big on being bossed around by an arrogant P R I C K.”
Laughing, Leon holds out his hand. “May I?”
I find his eyes on my phone, and hesitate only momentarily before passing it over. I watch as he swipes up and down, maneuvering through the device with ease.
“Do you have colors you prefer to wear?”
“Neutrals, I guess,” I answer questioningly.
Leon tilts his head. “That all?”
My cheeks heat against my will. “Pink, too.”
His face becomes a bit stern. “There’s nothing embarrassing about the color pink, Rayna. Jade likes it too, plenty of people do.”
I don’t bother arguing. I wouldn’t typically shy away from admitting to like something, especially not something as silly as a color. But Federico’s war on pink, and the way my father always said only little girls wore the feminine color…I’ve just been avoiding it for years.
But fuck it, if I’m going to be as free as Apollo claims, let him try to tell me what to wear.
“Sizes? Shoes, pants, etc?”
I blindly list them out, choosing to forgo listing my bra measurements for obvious reasons.
“Any fabrics you’re allergic to?”
“No?”
“Any that you just hate?”
“Uh, maybe wool?”
“Sporty, casual, chic?”
“A bit of all, I think…”
Leon takes a few moments to type, and then with a triumphant smile, he passes my phone back. “There you go.”
I accept it, silently confused. “What’d you do?”
“Texted Armani your shopping link,” he replies, a hint of smugness in his tone. “I told him the colors you like, your sizes, and no wool. He’ll probably take a couple hours, but he’ll have your closet overflowing in no time. And he’ll actually enjoy it, win-win.”
I bite my lip, looking down at the message he sent his brother.
“Are you sure?”
“Trust me, Rayna, we just made his day.”
If I don’t have to figure out the godforsaken shopping app on my own, Leon might have just made my day.
“If you say so.”
“Daddy?” Leo asks, his sweet little voice chiming quietly. “Juice?”
“Do you have—”
“I’ve got it,” I cut him off, jumping right up. “Apple or grape?”
“Apple, thank you.”
I rush into the kitchen, smiling to myself. Maybe I’m not so bad at this adult socializing thing after all. Or maybe Leon just makes it easy.