Chapter 27 Alina
ALINA
Istare at Sandra's business card on my desk, her words echoing in my mind.
Witnesses disappearing. Suspicious deaths.
The worst part? I'm not even shocked. Deep down, I've always known that the rumors around the Bonventis could be grounded in fact.
I just chose to ignore it since rumors run so rampant in this line of work.
My fingers hover over my keyboard, but I can't type a single word.
"Fuck," I say, pressing my palms against my eyes. This is my own doing. My own special form of torture—wanting a man I shouldn't, ignoring truths I shouldn't, playing with fire and pretending I won't get burned. I'm creating my own personal hell in real time.
I push back from my desk, pacing the length of my office. The walls feel like they're closing in, suffocating me.
"Enough," I say to myself. "This ends now."
I make a decision. When Marco comes in, I'll tell him everything. About Sandra, about my doubts—all of it. It's time to be honest and deal with the consequences.
I sit down at my desk, and about 45 slow, agonizing minutes pass before my phone vibrates. I reach for it instantly.
To my surprise, it's a text from Natalie. I haven't seen her since my birthday.
I swipe to unlock my phone.
Hey girlie! Happen to be in Chicago this weekend. Random thought—girls' weekend? Miss your face!
My thumbs hover over my phone. What do I tell her? On one hand, it's definitely a welcome distraction from everything. On the other, there's Marco.
Hey, Nat!
I type back.
Miss you too!
Would love to see you.
Been too long.
Her response is immediate.
Perfect!
I land at 7 p.m.
I've got an Airbnb. I'll send you the address. I can't wait to catch up!
P.S. Bring lots of champagne
I smile. This will be good for me. What would be even better is clearing my head before going, so Marco better hurry up and get here.
Two more hours pass in a haze of scattered work attempts. Then I hear his voice in the hallway—that rich timbre that makes my skin tingle even now. Without thinking, I'm on my feet, yanking open my office door.
Marco stands there, talking to one of our staffers. He's changed since I last saw him, obviously. He's in a dark blue suit and looks impeccable as always, but there's something in his stance that seems tighter than usual. When he sees me, his eyes darken slightly.
"Hello," he says, dismissing the staffer with a nod.
"Hi," I say, my voice sounding timid. "We need to talk."
A flicker of concern flashes across his face before it smooths into his political mask as people walk by us.
"Sure, my office?" he asks, motioning toward his door.
I nod and start walking. I'm so nervous, so focused, I don't even wait for him to open the door. I just walk in, and he follows behind me.
I shut the door, and he takes off his jacket. His white shirt clings to his muscles, and my mind pulls me back—not right now, Alina.
I shake my head, refusing to let it distract me this time. I don't know how to start, so I just speak.
"Sandra Reeves paid me a visit today," I say, the words tumbling out before I can stop them.
Marco's face changes instantly. "What exactly did she say?" His voice is low, stern.
I swallow hard, my heart racing. "She offered me a job. Said she wanted to bring down your family, that you were corrupt. She mentioned something about witnesses disappearing and suspicious deaths."
Marco's jaw clenches, and I see a muscle twitch in his cheek. He takes a step closer to me, his presence suddenly overwhelming.
"And you're considering it." It's not a question.
"What? No! That's why I'm telling you about it." My voice rises. "I wanted to be honest with you."
Marco scoffs. "And I'm supposed to believe that? That you didn't even consider it for a moment?"
"Yes, you are supposed to believe me!" I snap back, my temper flaring. "Because it's the truth!"
"Let me make something very clear, baby." The endearment sounds like a threat now. "If you ever thought about betraying me, about switching sides..." He trails off, letting the silence fill with unspoken menace.
My breath quickens with rage at the thinly veiled threat. "Are you threatening me?"
"I'm stating a fact," he says, his voice ice-cold.
I feel tears of frustration and anger pricking at my eyes. "I can't believe this. I came to you, told you about it because I thought we were in this together. And this is how you react?"
"How else am I supposed to react?" Marco snarls. "When my fiancée tells me she's meeting with my enemy?"
"Fake fiancée, for starters, and not acting like a psychopath would be nice," I shout, crossing my arms, "More like someone who trusts me! I didn't plan on any of this, Marco. I didn't ask for Sandra to approach me. I didn't ask to be put in this position!"
Tears sting my eyes, and I don't finish. Marco immediately relaxes. "Alina," he says, reaching out to touch my arm.
I jerk away from his touch. "Shit, two men forced me into her limo. I was fucking scared, and I came to you because I trusted you. Because I thought we were..." Tears fall freely now, and I can't finish.
We stand there, staring at each other, the air between us crackling with tension. I feel like I'm looking at a stranger, not the man I thought I knew.
"And what about your family? Is what she said true? Your brothers—Enzo, Gio, and you—are you big bad mobsters? Huh? Are you?"
Marco rubs his chin, and I can tell he's frustrated.
"Are you going to answer me?" I demand.
Marco runs his tongue across his teeth but doesn't speak.
"God, I'm such an idiot," I say as I wipe tears from my face.
I can't even look at him right now.
"I can't do this right now," I say, my voice shaking. "I need to get out of here."
I turn to leave, but Marco grabs my arm. "Where do you think you're going?"
I jerk my arm free, glaring at him. "Away from you, away from all of this."
"Alina—" he starts, but I cut him off.
"Don't," I say, holding up a hand. "Just, don't. I'll be back on Monday. We can figure out where we go from here then."
I swing open his door. "Don't worry about rushing back on Monday, Alina. You won't be needed anyhow. I'm sure I can get someone to fill in for your job."
"Oh, fuck you, Marco," I say, walking down the hall, trying to keep it together until I reach my office.