That cap … the flower man? Hearing him speak, I caught the Russian accent.
“Yes.” Vincenzo stepped in front of me, opening the car door and motioning. “Get in.”
I didn’t argue. I slid into the seat, twisting at the last second to catch one more glimpse of the man. The puzzle clicked together—he was probably from Dmitri, part of our plan.
The stranger stepped back as Vincenzo slammed my door, circled the car, and climbed in. The engine roared to life, leaving the man behind.
Vincenzo’s silence was like a cage. His hands gripped the wheel like iron, his face tight with hurt, torn open by truths he was never meant to know. And I couldn’t blame him. If it were me, I’d bleed the same.
Before I realized it, we were pulling up to the house. I unbuckled slowly, still desperate to speak.
“Vincenzo,” I began, but he cut me off.
“Get out.”
“I’m sorry. We never talked. We weren’t close enough for me to—”
“Alessia.” His voice dropped low. “Get the fuck out.”
“Okay.” The lump in my throat grew as I pushed the door open. Once I stepped out, the engine roared, tires screeching as he drove off again. This didn’t look good. I had messed up.
Chapter Fifty
Rodion
My irritation sharpened as Pavel’svoice came through the phone. “The maid confirmed she made it home safely. But the argument might have changed everything.”
It fucking did. If chaos started there, Alessia would be caught in the middle. She was probably already stressed, wondering what move to make. I needed to make mine first.
“Have a few men follow Vincenzo.”
“Alright, boss. Should we go with Plan B?” Pavel asked.
“No, stick to the plan. Keep me updated. If anything happens to her, even the smallest thing, we won’t be speaking again.”
“Yes, boss.” He cleared his throat. “I will keep you updated.”
I cut the line and dropped the phone beside me. The glow of the laptop caught my attention. A photo of Alessia in a wedding gown filled the entire screen. Wedding dresses meant nothing to me until I sawherin one. She looked like an angel, and God help me if I didn’t want to marry her now. Yet here I sat, running theworld through a screen while an IV line fed poison disguised as medicine into my veins. A fucking joke.
Alessia got drunk, and I knew too well what a drunk Alessia was like. She talked too much, let her guard slip. It was a weakness anyone could use. I had been guilty of it once, making deals while she leaned against me, her laughter spilling secrets she never meant to give.
But that same version of her was the most dangerous. Drunk Alessia could unmake you without trying. Her whispers could cut you deeper, and her soft words were enough to drop a man to his knees.
Those nights felt distant now. All I had was her frozen face on a screen, a ghost of the woman I wanted in my hands. She was safe; my men watched every corner, but I knew she would only be safe with me.
My gaze shifted to my left hand. The needle taped to my skin, the slow drip of medication forcing patience I couldn’t afford. Doctors promised months of recovery. I didn’t have months. It was time to move.
Grandmother’s loud voice caught me, carried from the hallway. I ignored her, eyes fixed on the laptop. The screen held everything I needed: accounts, coded reports, camera feeds from streets most men never noticed. Drugs were moved under false invoices, cash was washed through restaurants, and shipments were logged in numbers only I understood. Business never slept, and neither did the enemies waiting to take it.
There was a knock on the door before it was pushed open. I lifted my head to Grandmother as she stepped inside, a phone clutched in her hand.
“You need to talk to Akim.”
She came closer, her perfume faint under the bitter scent of antiseptic that hung in the room. My mind lingered on the name. Akim, Dmitri’s right hand. Whatever this old woman wanted, itwas not my concern. Her staying here was Dmitri’s idea, another trick to pull me off balance while I kept the empire from bleeding out.
“What is it?” I asked. I could not dismiss her completely. She once ruled Konstantinov when Grandfather died and Father was too young to hold it. She was relentless, and the quickest way to rid her was to hear her out.
“Dmitri got into a serious mess. He could get out, but he is injured.”