Chapter 10
ANTON
“Iwon’t lecture you,” I tell Liliana as a timer goes off in the kitchen. “But from my experience, regret is never worth holding on to.”
She turns from me, going to open the oven door. “I made a casserole, if you’re interested.”
I stand and laugh. “Interested? I’ll riot if I don’t get a taste of whatever’s been driving me insane all night.”
She laughs, seeming freer now that the topic has shifted from Roman to food. I’m not convinced that she’s done with the conversation though. It almost seems like she’s eager to vent and rant about how my son treated her.
She is better off without him.
I sometimes wish I could claim the same. That I could be better off without him in my life, lurking in the background as a lazy mooch. That I’m supposed to hand him all the power and wealth I’ve earned.
“Do you want to eat in here?” She looks at the island, where I had the delight of eating breakfast with her.
It seems like a lifetime ago. Lunch came and went while I was on calls.
She was tied up on the phone elsewhere too, so I hardly care where we eat now.
Skipping a meal left me off balance, and I’m eager to sit down with her.
“We can take it to the dining room,” I say.
I help her bring things in, glad that I have her to myself. The staff has retired for the evening. Viktor is busy working out in the gym at the other side of the house, and that means he’ll probably get a pre-made protein shake like usual afterward.
“Did Roman ever treat you right?” I ask, too curious not to return to that topic.
She gives me a droll look. “He got my attention in the beginning, enough to encourage me to date him.”
We settle in to eat, and instead of leaving me to wonder how my son could be stupid enough to screw up with a woman like her, she explains. Between bites, she paints the picture of an idiot who never knew what he had.
“We met right after I graduated from culinary school.” Her smile turns sweet, proud even. “Top of the class. My parents own a bakery and it’s been my goal to run it after they retire. If they retire.”
Interesting choice of words.
She’s making it sound like her parents might be working until they die. Mine did, but it’s different. A rival killed my mother and father in a power play. That was when I became pakhan, just twenty-two years old.
As old as Liliana probably is now.
“He noticed me at a party. My best friend”—she sours with a cringe—“my former best friend introduced us and he said all the right things and made all the right moves.”
“He thinks he can be charismatic,” I say.
She nods in agreement. “But it’s so phony. It took me a while to realize it.”
Instead of pressing on why she stayed with him so long, and it sounds like she did because she never had the time to think about breaking up while picking up more hours for her parents, I ask about her. Where she went to school. How old she is. Everything and anything.
When I realize that Roman was her first boyfriend, and she lost her virginity to him without even enjoying it, I shake my head in disgust. “He doesn’t get this from me.”
She almost chokes on the sip of water she just took. “I know.”
I smile, pleased that she has no issue about speaking so frankly, unafraid to own up to what we did last night.
“I meant his personality. His laziness and lack of ambition, even with his own girlfriend.” I shrug. “His mother spoiled him rotten, and I have no fucking clue what to do with him.”
“He takes spoiled to a whole new level,” she mutters.
Her pissy attitude doesn’t turn me off. The fact that she doesn’t hold back, that she talks so openly about Roman’s flaws, intrigues me.
When I do press on why she stayed, knowing what he was, she challenges me and accuses me of making excuses for him.
“Are you implying it’s my fault that he cheated?” she asks as she sets her glass down hard. It doesn’t break, but some spills out.
“Not at all.”
“Because that’s the way you’re making it sound.” She narrows her eyes.
It shocks and excites me—this woman thinking she can talk to me like I’m just anyone. This gorgeous bombshell showing no fear or hesitation because I’m a ruthless Bratva boss.
All through the meal, she’s treating me as an equal, as though I’m just another man, no one special. And it gets to me.
I’m sick of people putting me on a pedestal. Of others seeing me as someone to use. And of many changing their attitude and behavior to what they think I want to hear and see.
Liliana’s got spunk, though. Gumption. And I can’t get enough of how riveting it is to have this privacy to talk. Not just to listen, but to really connect.
“Boss?”
Liliana pauses mid-sentence, in the middle of whatever she’s about to argue about, some trivial difference between us over how she read what I said.
We both turn to face Viktor as he comes in with his phone. He’s still in his gym gear, but that doesn’t ever mean he’s not on the clock.
“I received a call about Roman.”
I stare down Liliana as she smirks and looks to the side.
“What now?”
Fuck. That’s always my reply. Always waiting for something worse to come up with him.
I watch Liliana and try to understand why she gave him a chance to impress her for so long. I have been waiting since he passed boyhood and should’ve started acting more like an actual adult. And I’m still left waiting for that.
“He contacted someone in the Roncelli Family and—”
I slam my fist on the table, not hard enough to make the plates jump. Liliana doesn’t flinch. Her eyes only widen in alarm.
“The Roncellis? Why the fuck would he ever have a reason to talk to the Italians?” I growl. It’s a rhetorical question, one I’m not afraid to air in Liliana’s presence. She’s not so much of a stranger or an outsider now but I won’t be sharing state secrets with her.
“He thought he could…” Viktor shakes his head and shrugs. “I’m honestly not sure. The reports I’ve gotten so far from the men who were present don’t make a complete conclusion.”
“Did he say something that’s making Roncelli rethink the agreement I negotiated with him?
” I demand. I spent too much time and energy, my blood, sweat, and tears, getting my oldest rival to fall in line on a drug trade deal.
If my stupid son thinks he can talk shit and blow up the terms of that agreement, I’ll have a lot more problems on my hands.
“No. Not yet,” Viktor replies. “We have several men handling the situation and speaking with the Roncelli liaisons now.”
I nod. I’ve got too many irons in the fire to slow down and babysit whatever Roman might fuck up next.
“Elena is concerned though,” he continues.
“Oh. That’s fucking rich,” I growl at my ex’s name.
“The Roncellis are threatening to make Roman pay personally for causing trouble and sowing seeds of doubt about your intention to honor the agreement.” Viktor glances at Liliana, seeming concerned about discussing even this much business in front of her.
That’s the kicker though. She knows Roman. She isn’t a stranger.
“Too fucking bad,” I reply, furious and annoyed. It’s not only that Viktor is coming to bear the same old bad news of Roman fucking up. It’s extra irritating that he’s interfering with my time to spend with Liliana tonight.
“She’s begging for you to call her back,” Viktor adds of my ex-wife. “To step in and smooth things over between the Roncellis and Roman.”
I stare at my plate, pissed.
This is just like Elena. And Roman. Never taking responsibility, always expecting me to wipe away their messes.
Liliana huffs, and I look up to see her making an expression as she studies the wall.
Unlike you.
She didn’t hesitate to own up to crashing into the car. She still insists on paying for the damage. The contrast peeves me.
“She has asked if you’ll come back to the city immediately,” Viktor states matter-of-factly. “To resolve the situation.”
I shake my head. I have no interest in hurrying back just to make their lives easier.
I’m sick of it. I’d rather be here with Liliana.
I don’t want to admit that I’m not looking forward to leaving her.
Committing to a woman is more than I can afford with my schedule.
But now that I know she’s not a mooch or a needy fool like my ex and my son, I want to soak up every minute with her that I can.
“No.” I shake my head harder, then look at Viktor. “If she tries to reach me again, tell her I have no fucking time or patience for her bullshit. Or his. He needs to learn to clean up his own messes.”
Viktor nods, but as he makes the gesture, his phone buzzes in his pocket.
I grit my teeth. “That’s her again, isn’t it?”
He nods once more.
“For fuck’s sake…” I grind my molars. “I wish I never met her. Never made the mistake of knocking her up.”
Liliana looks anywhere but at me, but I can’t bring myself to care that she’s hearing a truth I don’t share publicly.
“I allowed her, I allowed that marriage and his birth so I’d have a goddamn heir.” I bark a harsh laugh. “Some fucking future he is.”
Viktor rejects the call and I exhale an angry breath through my nose, nostrils flaring.
I can’t escape it. Ever. “They’re supposed to be the family I should be able to count on,” I mutter. A clingy ex-wife who never respects boundaries and a son who only ever causes trouble for me to deal with after the fact.
I lift my gaze to Liliana again and catch her frowning at me.
The spell of privacy and getting to know her is over.
And that’s the worst crime of all. Reality is right here again, knocking at the door and reminding me that nothing is ever going to change.