Chapter 6
Alessandro
My feet pound the pavement, my T-shirt soaked as I run along Bayshore Boulevard.
It’s a little past six in the morning. The sky is a lemony yellow along the horizon, brightening every minute as the sun rises higher, and the summer air is already thick with promised rain.
I’ve only encountered a few other restless or health-conscious humans on the six-mile run so far, plus an elderly couple pushing a fluffy white dog in a baby stroller.
Gunnar is at my side, his strides smooth and matching mine. His deep voice cuts through the sounds of squawking seabirds and a boat roaring across the Bay. “Remember what you told me, Sandro? When I asked why you didn’t go looking for her?”
I don’t turn to him. The fact that he knows I’m still thinking about last night, and seeing Lennon again, is a testament to how well he knows me. “Yeah,” I grunt on an exhale.
Because she doesn’t belong in our world. She’s too sweet. Too soft. I didn’t want anything to change that. I still don’t.
Though I have a feeling her mother’s death changed her, stole some of her light.
But I also can’t stop the floodgates of memories, of need that opened when our eyes met again.
She was just a ghost haunting me. I could only remember pieces of her: A pink, sunburned nose, nail-bitten fingers with pink polish entwined with mine, an echo of her laugh. Now she’s real and whole again.
I know what he’s getting at. He’s reminding me why I let her go.
A white heron perched on the concrete Balustrade wall squawks and flies off as we get too close.
“How do you think she’d react if she found out what we did after she left?” he asks.
I grit my teeth and pick up my pace, ignoring the stitch in my side. “I don’t know,” I breathe. And I don’t. Would she be grateful? Probably not. Revenge is part of our world, not hers.
When we get back, I shower and then have Big Tony drive me to our waterfront condominium office building. The four-story building, made of concrete and mirrored glass windows, was a bargain my father snagged ten years ago after a major hurricane left it damaged.
Caelian’s office is on the bottom floor. I stroll past the elevators and through the double oak doors that are standing open. He sits behind a sleek modern black desk, his blinds closed to the water view behind him. His dark eyes are focused behind his wire-rim glasses, glued to the monitor.
I fall into one of the black leather chairs in front of his desk and wait for his attention.
Caelian is my consigliere and one of the smartest fuckers in our outfit. He’s got an accounting degree so is in charge of the money flow, but he’s also a genius with computers. He handles any cybersecurity or electronic coverup needs.
Eventually, he leans back in the chair, folds his large hands over his stomach, and blinks at me. “What’s up?”
“Did you get a chance to check out that list of port authority guys on Zerilli’s payroll?”
He removes his glasses and rubs his eyes. “I’m about halfway through. So far no red flags.”
That makes things more difficult. “All right. I’m taking Gunnar over to check out the docks tonight. The Bratva have a shipment coming in.”
He slips his glasses back on. “Guns?”
“Supposedly.” I shrug. “The last three have been.”
“But you’re not convinced?”
I shake my head. “The Commission doesn’t act on rumors. They believe the Bratva are trafficking, so I just need to get the proof.”
He leans forward, resting his forearms on the desk. “Santino’s been trying for the last nine months. Come up with nothing.”
“Yeah,” I acknowledge. “But Santino’s not me.” I stand. “One more thing." I hesitate. “I need you to find everything you can on Lennon Kelly.”
His brow quirks up. “Yes, I saw her at the Vault.” Then he frowns. “Are you sure that’s wise, Cousin?”
I shrug. I’m not sure of anything. Except this insatiable need to know what her life is like now. If she’s happy. Maybe if she’s happy I can truly let her go. “No. Do it anyway.”
“Do you want to know if there’s a man in her life?” His tone is part teasing and part warning.
“No,” I growl. Fuck. “Yes.”
I leave before I can see the disappointment in his eyes.