Page 53 of Protection (Mobsters + Billionaires 2)
MADS
Even somethingas joyous as our friends getting engaged is handled by Anthony in the most sterile way. I’m grateful when we finally arrive at his building. He’s said a few times that he doesn’t like being dropped off first but that’s too goddamn bad. Letting him accompany me would be both impractical and tortuous.
He exits the car without a word.
“Bye, Anthony.”
He turns slightly and gives me a sad wave before disappearing into the building.
The park is quiet, and I have some notion of having my driver go through it to see the trees, but I’m too tired. Instead, we take the direct route to my building, where my new security detail greets me at the door. I walk up the stairs, past all the floors I never visit, to my room. It’s so pretty and peaceful here, but all I feel is alone.
A dry laugh makes it through my lips. Only a billionaire with everything would complain about being lonely. As though I couldn’t call Luca’s handler and have someone kind and sweet up here within an hour.
It’s not the same, though, and I know it. I’d just be lonely with company.
And I don’t think I can fool around with someone else anyway. This terrible, awful feeling in my chest isn’t regret for fucking Anthony. It’s the gut-wrenching realization that I’m probably in love with the man.
Like, completely head-over-heels, mentally putting together a Whitney Houston and Celine Dion playlist in my head, Googling romantic poetry, finally understanding that scene in Last of the Mohicans with the sister and the cliff, does-he-like-chocolate-covered-strawberries in love with him.
Fuck, this is going to hurt.
* * *
“How did the TED Talk go?”Harris asks, far too chipper first thing in the morning.
“It went,” I say, not knowing where to start. “I need an office for the day.”
He grimaces. “Damn, boss. All of the offices are reserved. We’re in the final sprint for the quarterly upgrade.”
“Then kick somebody out,” I snap, annoyed to have to explain even that much.
Harris raises his eyebrows but wordlessly pulls up the messenger platform we use. Seconds later, he nods. “Done. And since you're the first one here, you can take any of the regular-sized rooms.”
“Thanks.”
I know I'm being rude. I've always said the office spaces are first come, first serve, and when I need to, I usually work out of my office at home.
But the idea of returning to that lonely space fills me with dread.
Not that it matters.
I heard what I heard.
Mr. Rule Follower himself is the consigliere—the counselor—to the head of the Stefano crime family. Like, I jokingly call Luca a mob boss, but…he really is a mob boss. Worse, I keep thinking of them as my card-playing buddies—Luca, Anthony, and that rascal Hopper—but, uh…lol.
I didn’t dare ask him what it means for him to be Luca’s right-hand mobster on our absolutely silent ride home.
I get about halfway through the morning and give up.
After apologizing to Harris for getting snippy, I approach my security staff and let them know I'm going for a walk. They don't look happy with it, but I let the quieter one go with me. Slowly, we make our way to Washington Square Park. It’s a decent walk, usually enough to let me get lost in the sounds of the city, but it doesn’t work. I feel Anthony with every damn step.
I mean, yes, physically, I feel him in my overworked muscles and fingertip bruises, but it’s not that. It’s the words he said, the way he looked at me. One thing I know for sure is he wasn’t fucking me. What we did wasn’t fucking.
What we did was far too intimate…far too romantic to be fucking.
I rub my shoulder where his tears fell and wonder if I were to draw back the layers of clothing, would I find a brand.
The Vienna Exception. I snort to myself. What a fucking nightmare.
