Page 68 of Contract of a Billionaire
Months of tears and a broken heart had taught me not to dream of the impossible. Alessio was always out of my league. Honestly, I didn’t want him in my league. It wasn’t the kind of relationship I ever strived for.
The months when the pain became too much and the terrible sensation that I had lost something irreplaceable overwhelmed the reason. I’d listen to Kol’s soft breathing. A small life that depended on me. He was my entire focus. My life.
This was the best case scenario for my son.Our son, my heart corrected.
No, Kol was all mine.
Branka, her brother, and another guy started walking towards me and I blinked. The ceremony finished. Most of the people had disbursed while I was lost in my thoughts.
As I watched Alessio stride towards me, taller and darker than I remembered him, I had to temper the need to flee. Instead I met them halfway.
“Hello, Autumn.” Alessio’s voice was still the same. Smooth. Deep. Pulling me into its amber depths. Another shiver ran down my spine.
“Alessio.” My voice was barely a whisper. He seemed bigger, taller. “Sorry for your loss.”
His expression darkened. His jaw clenched so tightly, the muscles in his neck stood out. His breathing grew harsher. He advanced a step towards me and I had to fight the urge to take one step backwards. He was too close. Electricity crackled between us as he held my gaze. For a fraction of a moment, a carnal lust glittered in his steely gaze.
My skin tingled in response. The familiar wanting and lust shot through my veins.
The last words he had spoken to me whispered in my mind.Tell someone who fucking cares.
It was all the reminder I needed.
“Is anyone going to introduce me?” An unfamiliar voice penetrated the silence.
I blinked. Alessio’s entire expression reverted back to a mask. An expressionless mask. But his eyes remained on me and it looked like he wasn’t about to introduce me.
“This is my best friend, Autumn.” Branka ended up making introductions. “Autumn, this is Byron Ashford.”
My eyebrows shot up. “Senator Ashford?” I asked, studying him. Expensive custom tailored suit. Dark hair. Piercing, blue eyes. Holy smokes, he was handsome. “I assumed you were older.”
The guy chuckled. “That’s my father.”
He extended his hand and I accepted his handshake. It didn’t surprise me that the Russo family had connections in politics. The corruption was deep in all levels of the government. Some of my ideals died, but others, I still fought for.
“Maybe you can point out to your father that his vote in the Middle East affairs means life and death for some people,” I retorted dryly. “But then he seems more worried about campaigning and accepting bribes from criminals.”
An awkward silence followed. Okay, so it was a bit tactless and not good timing. But on the other hand, I didn’t think I’d probably run into the guy again.
Byron’s full lips curved into a harsh smile. “Duly noted and I’ll be sure to pass along the message. Or you can tell him yourself.” It was hard to tell by the look on his face whether he was pissed off. “I admire your work very much.”
My eyebrows shot up. Branka hadn’t provided him with my full name. He must have read the suspicion on my face. “I saw a picture of you during your exhibit a few months ago,” he explained. “The photographer who will save the world.”
I couldn’t quite decide whether he was mocking me or not. Regardless, my sixth sense warned me that this man was just as good at hiding his emotions and thoughts. My eyes flickered to Alessio, then back to Byron and my brows furrowed. Minus the eyes, the two men looked very much alike.
Similar face structure. Same nose. Same full mouth. Different eyes.
“Was that your son?” Byron’s question was casual but an alert shot through me. I managed a terse nod. “He is a handsome little boy.”
“Thanks.”
Branka shifted on her feet, her hesitant gaze traveling between Byron, Alessio, and me. As if she expected a bomb to detonate. Not that I blamed her. The way Byron watched me hinted to him knowing all of my secrets. Well, one secret. The one that I’d protect at all costs. After London, I decided it would remain my secret.
Maybe I was just paranoid. Yes, probably paranoid.
“Byron, can you take Branka to my place?” Alessio demanded, his eyes never wavering from me.
Every time I was around this man, he ordered someone to drive Branka home.
