She leaned forward. “They faked a contract. Dmitri dragged her, or pretended to, so Leonid would think you allowed it. You know Leonid. He does clean business with Konstantinov.”
My hands itched to move, to strike, to fix what I let slip. Every detail raced through my mind. She was out there, and it was my fault. I could feel the pressure behind my eyes, the tension coiling in my chest. I needed her back.
The door opened, and Matvet stepped in, carrying a charger. He took my phone and plugged it in.
“Bring me my laptop,” I said. “And get me every damn piece of information on why they moved to Italy and exactly where in Italy they are. If you come back empty, you will be insulting me.”
“Yes, boss.”
****
A week passed, and the healing was coming along. But the fact that Alessia was still in someone’s hands was the thorn I couldn’t tear out.
I left the hospital and returned to the territory. The first thingthat greeted me in my room was Alessia’s phone and a note. They sat on the bedside table, mocking me. I moved closer and touched the phone; she had left it, and that was why I couldn’t reach her. Taking the note, I unfolded it, and her words only twisted the knife in my chest.
I scoffed, letting my eyes drag over the words again. Trust and love were supposed to come with honesty. Why would she think throwing herself into danger was the only way? I wasn’t angry with her. No. The anger sat with me, for being sick and useless when all she needed was happiness. How could she love a man like me, a man who left her to fight her own battles while I lay in a hospital bed?
Love. The word looked foreign in her handwriting. Still, as I read it, a heat cracked through the ice around my chest. Would my heart even beat the same if I saw her lips form those words?
Her voice lingered in my mind. I could almost see her smile flicker at the corner of my vision, feel the stubborn flare of her temper nudging at the edges of my patience.
My eyes drifted to the vase on the table. The flowers she left drooped, heads bowing like they knew she wasn’t there. That morning, she had slept like an angel. If I had stayed, we could have woken up together. But I left. I missed the dinner she had carefully prepared. The one thing she asked, and I failed to do.
Did I worry her? Of course. Her messages from that night still weighed on me, each one a reminder that I missed the date. She had called so many times, and I never answered.
I would fix it. I would buy her flowers in the morning and wait for her that evening, sitting in the restaurant until she arrived.
How was she dressed that night? I picked up the phone to call Pavel. He was already in Italy, but I needed the CCTV footage from that night.
“Boss.”
“I didn’t get any updates.”
“It should be in your email in a minute. Alonzo also found a lady who can work as a maid. I’m working on getting her inside Leonid’s house.”
Oh yes, I’d already talked to Alonzo and got him involved. He was a police officer in Rome, someone who could make a few things move. “Good. Be discreet.” I rubbed my brow and sank onto the bed. Pavel could be my eyes. He never left his hidden spot because he worked with screens, but this situation demanded it. I trusted him, as I trusted Matvet. I just needed Matvet here on other business. “How is she?
“Physically, she’s okay.”
I stared down at the letter she left. “Alright. Don’t mess up. I also need CCTV footage from a restaurant. I’ll send the address and date. How long will it take to pull it from there?”
“That might take a while, but you’ll have it.”
“Alright.” I hung up and immediately sent him the address and the date.
An hour passed before Pavel sent me the clip. I opened it, and there she was. The camera caught her from the front, though her face was barely visible. I could see her outfit. The neckline dipped low, thin straps resting on her shoulders like a silent invitation. Her hair fell in soft waves, brushing her collarbone.
A slow smile tugged at my lips as I watched her shift her gaze from the window, then back to her phone. She waited.
A waiter approached. They exchanged a few words. He left. She waited.
I sat there, watching every minute she waited. The seconds stretched into an hour, then two, and I wished she had given upand left. She fidgeted with her phone, pressed it to her ear, then lowered it again. Another waiter approached, but she waved him off.
She waited, believing I would walk in. Ididn’t.
It gutted me. Watching her sit there, clinging to a hope I had already shattered. I failed her that night, and I was failing her now.
If I could talk to her, I would tell her about the date I ruined. I would say to her, I hated that she was hurt and that I would make it right. That she was insane for saying she loved me. Then I would ask what she expected in return, because words were never my way. But I could make her feel it. Make her know I felt the same.