Chapter 40
Sebastian
Every stone I turn over comes up empty. Every path I take comes back fruitless. All the research I do on Vincent Maroney is a waste of time.
All I’ve uncovered is what a monster the man is.
His dealings with women, the way he treats the ones who end up as strippers and escorts, appalls me.
I may not understand their careers, but who am I to judge?
I support doing what you have to in order to survive.
And these women are survivors. Especially the ones who work for him and his little mafia.
The Rizzoli Mafia is a disgusting organization that profits from the misfortune and misdeeds of others. The amount of people their cheap drugs have killed is appalling. He doesn’t deserve to have lived this long.
The heavy pitter-patter of footsteps clomping up the stairs lifts the weight of the world from my shoulders. My angel, somehow so small, walks like an elephant. Her footsteps echo through the house with the way she stomps.
She pokes her head into my office, then clomps towards me. Once she’s within reach, I pull her into my lap.
“Hey, angel,” I murmur as I press my lips against hers.
She folds into me, and with each inch of herself she gives me, the lighter my load becomes, until it completely leaves my mind. My angel never ceases to calm me.
“I made dinner. And dessert!” Her words have me perking up.
“What’d you make?”
“Salmon, mashed sweet potato, and vegetables. We’re eating anti-inflammatory tonight. Nik suggested it when I told him I was feeling bloated.” She pats her adorably pouched stomach as though the size is an issue. But if it’s hurting her, then I’ll make every anti-inflammatory meal she needs.
“Sounds delicious. But you know you don’t have to cook for me. I’m supposed to be the one spoiling you,” I chide her, earning a light swat to the chest.
“I’m perfectly capable of cooking too. You know I’ve been taking care of myself my whole life,” she says with an eye roll.
“I know you’re capable, but you don’t have to take care of yourself anymore. You’re not alone, I’m here for you. I’ve waited years to care for you, don’t deprive me of the pleasure.”
Her eyes lock with mine, and she nods slowly. Then leans in and kisses me. “I don’t actually like cooking.”
“I know,” I say cockily, grinning at her eye roll. “Which is why I’ll cook for us.”
She grins at that response. “Of course my stalker boyfriend knows I don’t like cooking. How silly of me to question his knowledge of me. Knowing you, you’ve probably taken notes about me.”
My cheeks redden as I purse my lips. Even though she’s joking about my obsession with her, I don’t want to scare her with how deep it ran. How deep she’s embedded in me. How her name flows through my veins.
“Oh my God! You do, don’t you?” When I don’t respond, she swats my chest again. “Tell me!”
I sigh and rub my hand through my hair. When she gives me an eager look, I’ve lost. I can’t refuse her. “I have flashcards in my nightstand. I went through them every night before bed on you. And… and I made Lizzy trivia games to make studying more fun.”
“I thought you had a photographic memory?”
“I do. But I couldn’t risk forgetting a single detail about you. You’re too important.” I gently tuck a piece of her hair behind her ear then cup her cheek. “You’re my angel. You’re everything that matters.”
She’s the one that leans in to kiss me this time, and I graciously welcome her. My hand moves of its own accord, climbing past her cheek and burying itself into her hair, anchoring her to me. But before this can carry on, she pulls back.
“Come on. Before the salmon gets cold.” I will my cock to deflate as I lift her from my lap. When she starts walking away, I discreetly adjust myself.
She plates our meals, much to my dismay. Then she makes her way to the couch. I bite back my discomfort of eating on the couches. The thought of crumbs in the cushions turns my stomach, but if she wants to sit here, then we will.
She hands me the remote and looks at me expectantly. “Well, pull them up.”
“Pull what up?”
“The trivia games. I want to see how accurate they are. And if I can win.” There’s a twinkle in her eye that I can’t wait to steal when I win. Because no one, not even her, knows Lizzy better than I do.
“You don’t know what you’ve signed yourself up for.”
She meets my challenging grin with one of her own.
“Bring it on!”
…
“How do you know this? I don’t even know how many times I blink on average per minute!” she whines as she throws her phone down on the couch. “You’re too obsessed with me. How am I ever supposed to know this much about you?”
“You’re not. I guess I win in that aspect too.” She huffs at my cockiness, then kicks me with her legs that are on my lap. I squeeze the foot I’ve been massaging in reprimand.
“Then how can I give you all that you deserve like you do for me?”
“Just being yourself and choosing me is enough. That’s all I could ever want.”
She rolls her eyes at my truth, so I swat her foot. She kicks me again then turns off the TV. Standing, she stretches then marches towards our bedroom.
“You’re being a sore loser,” I chide, sneaking behind her, and wrapping her in a bear hug.
She stomps her foot. “You had an unfair advantage. You already knew all the answers!”
“It’s about you!”
“Don’t care.”
She sneaks out of my grip and races to my nightstand. I smirk knowing mine is a lot tamer than hers was. But oh what fun her little toys brought us.
“This is a ridiculous stack.” She reaches in with both hands then pulls back holding more than five hundred flashcards. Seven hundred and sixty-one, to be exact. Seven hundred and sixty-one facts I have memorized about her.
She shuffles through a few of them then sighs. Then, tosses them haphazardly into the nightstand. I race over to ensure none are damaged. Carefully, I organize the stack then place them gently where they belong.
“You’re crazy.” Her tone isn’t rude, simply an observation.
“Crazy for you. Please be careful with those.”
Lizzy eyes me for a moment, then nods. “I think I’m starting to get it.”
“Does it scare you? Do I scare you?” I swallow past the lump in my throat to ask it. A hefty weight sits on my chest, crushing me.
“No. I just… I don’t think I understood how deep it ran.” Sensing my unease, she approaches me. “I think it’s sweet. No one has ever cared about me so much.”
“Loved you so much. I love you,” I correct her, while reaching for her.
“And I love you too,” she whispers right before she presses her lips to mine.