Page 60 of Between Us

Roman nodded. If foul play was involved, it only added to the pile of shit already on their plates.

24

After Roman left the house, Alessandra decided to start her afternoon with a few laps of the pool. Swapping her skirt and top for a one-piece swimsuit, she headed outside to face the scorching sun. She dropped her towel on a lounge chair and took a few sips of water from the cold bottle she’d picked up from the kitchen, her gaze drifting toward the blue water. Last time she'd been in the pool, Luca had dropped in uninvited and almost ruined her marriage. Just thinking about it brought a frown to her face, which she chased away quickly. She wasn't going to dwell on that anymore. Not since she and Roman were on good terms again.

She was about to jump into the pool when her phone began to ring. For a second there, she was tempted to ignore Matteo's call, but then she remembered she hadn't answered his other two calls that morning. Gaze glued to the tranquil water holding the promise of a cool haven, she picked up the phone and answered.

“Hey.”

“Ale, thank fuck.” Matteo let out a relieved breath. “Are you okay?”

“I'm fine,” she said cautiously. “What's going on?”

“Luca told me about what he did, and you weren't answering your phone. I fucking panicked and called your husband.”

“You called Roman? When?”

“About ten minutes ago. He told me to go fuck myself.”

With the sun burning like a furnace in the clear sky, Alessandra turned around and headed for the patio table for some shade. “Please tell me you didn't threaten him.”

“I thought he'd hurt you.” His voice turned rougher, like sandpaper on a wall.

She groaned. “Matty.”

“Did he put his hands on you?”

“No, of course not.”

Her brother was silent for a moment. When he spoke again, he sounded like he was trying to rein in his anger. “What Luca did was stupid. He put you at risk and almost ruined everything Dad has worked to achieve through this alliance with the Russians. He's a fucking idiot.”

Alessandra sawed her bottom lip, pondering his words. “Does Papà know about it?”

“Not yet. I can't bring myself to tell him because we both know he’ll punish Luca, and as angry as I am with him, I don't want to be responsible for that. It also seems that your husband has kept his mouth shut about it, which is a fucking relief, to be honest.”

“It's for the best that he doesn’t know,” she agreed.Despite still being resentful toward Luca, she found that she didn’t wish him any harm.

“You're not lying to me?” Matteo insisted. “He really didn't hurt you?”

“I promise. After almost shooting Luca in the backyard, he stormed out of the house, and I didn't see him for a week. Then he came back, and we talked. He understands I had nothing to do with Luca coming here.”

He sighed, and she could hear the fatigue in his voice. “I'm so tired of this shit. I worry about you constantly.”

Her expression softened. “Honestly, you have nothing to worry about, Matty. Roman is really good to me. We went to buy my first car today. That's why I didn't answer your calls earlier.”

Silence greeted her from the other end of the line. She had managed to surprise him. “You're getting your license?”

She smiled to herself. “Andhe's letting me go to college.”

Matteo let out a low sound that she was pretty sure conveyed some sort of animosity toward what she’d said. She had her confirmation a second later when he added, “Isn’t he the perfect fucking husband.”

Alessandra decided not to comment on that, because despite her brother’s hatred, Roman was indeed near close to perfection. At least in her view. That smile still on her face, she changed the subject to something Matteo wouldn’t have such a strong aversion to.

???

Evening fell, bringing with it a hot, humid air that seeped into the skin and made Alessandra's strappy dress stick to her chest and breasts. Leaving the bedroom where she’d just finished watching a podcast on her laptop, she took the stairs and headed for the thermostat on the ground floor. She fiddled with it for a bit before finally setting the AC temperature to sixty-eight degrees, then walked into the kitchen for a glass of iced water.

She was rinsing the glass at the sink when the back door opened and Roman stepped inside, his suit jacket resting in the crook of his arm.

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