Page 118 of Runaway in the Mafia
He smiled. A devilish glint in his eyes. “It’s all about appearances, Vitale. Rajesh is going to meet his demise soon, right?” At my nod, he continued. “My daughter’s grieving. She’s going to move to Italy because she can’t bear to come back home or stay in London. She meets you. A nice man who wants to give her a second life. End of story.”
I cocked my eyebrow.
He smiled. The glint in his eyes reminded me of another pair of eyes. “We have Bollywood. We’re very good at selling stories.”
“I’m still not brown.”
He chuckled. “No. You’re not. But I should have known already, brown never would have matched with my daughter.”
He lifted himself off the chair with a grimace and walked up to me, leaning on the walking stick. I didn’t get up so he could balance on the desk. “Go back to Italy. Take care of my daughter. When the time is right, I’ll get you down here for a visit with the family. Like everything here, it will take time. I need to drop the bomb. But when the shock waves settle, they’ll welcome you with open arms.”
“I could help you with that.”
He shook his head. I could see where my wife inherited her stubbornness from. “You already are. My daughter tells me she has her own business now.” His eyes were suspiciously wet. “I always knew she was too good to be kept inside a kitchen. You’re already giving her much more than I ever could.”
I stood up, and he grasped my hand. He gripped it in his. For the first time, I felt how weak he was. “Take care of her for me, will you?” I nodded. “One day I’ll be gone, and I don’t want a single sad day on her timeline, yes?”
“I understand.”
“Her happiness is mine.” he hugged me. I allowed him to, even if he was the only man to ever do so. “Welcome to the family.” He let me go and looked at me. “And thank you for taking care of her when I couldn’t.”
CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR
AHANA
Iwas tired. The kind of bone tired that you get from sleepless nights and a mental marathon.And a husband too far away.Jetlag and intense emotion plagued me, and I couldn’t tell if it was day or night. Not that it mattered, anyway. I got that I couldn’t go home. Didn’t want to either. When Papa said he’d take care of everything, I knew it wasn’t at the snap of his fingers. He’d need time. I didn’t know how long. But one thing was certain. I couldn’t visit home before he resolved the mess I’d made of my life. On the bright side, though… at least this way I wouldn’t be around when Maa blew a fuse.
Did you really think me that weak, Ahana?
His words played like audio clips in my head.
Didn’t you know I’d choose your happiness?
I didn’t know what I’d thought. All I knew was I’d hurt the man I’d left behind. And the one I’d come back to. While I’d tried to keep them both safe.
I stepped into the elevator and leaned my back against it. I’d been in this hotel so many times for a lunch or a dinner when Ilived in Delhi. But this time felt different. Probably because the carelessness I’d carried around of an unspoiled life wasn’t there to provide a rosy cloud over reality.
Go back to Italy to your husband.
I closed my eyes.If he’d accept me.
The door pinged. My eyes opened, and a mixed couple with a kid entered. She looked like the Indian mother with a short crop of curly hair but had the father’s grey, blue eyes. She must have been around six or seven. I caught myself smiling at the kid. Crossing to an unimagined territory. If Vitale and I had children, what would they look like?
I’ll take care of everything.
I hoped he could.
The door pinged again on my floor. With a parting smile at the cute kid, I staggered out of the lift. My loafers sank into the royal blue and sunshine yellow carpeting as I took a turn to the right and went in search of my room. I passed wallpapered, glossy, gold walls, that didn’t dish out compliments but reflected my sunken eyes.
I didn’t know what I’d tell him. How I’d beg him to let me back in. Despair tore at my heart that he never might, and that thought alone brought on another intense migraine.
There was no choice. He had to let me in. And this time, I’d never let him go again. If Papa was going to risk it all for my happiness, the least I could do was to go back to the man who’d captured my heartbeat.
I stopped at my door. Fumbled with the key card. I just needed one good night of sleep, and then I’d get on the flight Papa had booked for me in the morning. The door clicked open. The cardholder already held a card in it. The door thudded shut behind me. My eyeline moved beyond it. My chest heaved. The bag in my hand dropped to the floor. There was a surprise in the corner of the room.
“I was wondering how long it would take for you to get here.”
Tears burned at the back of my eye sockets. My throat went dry.
