Page 15 of Romeo

Aside from being lonely, I can’t complain about how I’ve been treated during my stay with Romeo. Not only is my room equipped with a big screen TV and all the streaming channels, but I also have a full en suite bathroom with a clawfoot tub and a freaking towel warmer rack. I didn’t even know that was an option, and here it is, sitting in a guest room that, as far as I can tell, has been unoccupied for a long time before I showed up.

Meals are delivered to my room three times a day, as well as a small snack and a cup of tea around three in the afternoon. I’ve tried talking to the older woman who drops off the food, but she either doesn’t hear me or doesn’t care to respond.

The first day I was here, I was able to knock out all the orders in the queue from my online shop, Cute Crochet Creatures. I even made little beds for each animal and added them for free, so hopefully, I’ll have some happy customers who want to keep doing business with me.

I was alone the second day, and my anxiety kicked into high gear. Am I a prisoner here? Romeo never told me I had to stay in my room, but he didn’t seem too pleased when he found me sneaking around the kitchen. Plus, it’s not like I want to waltz around the mansion of a crime lord all willy-nilly. Who knows what conversations I might overhear? I learned my lesson about eavesdropping,thankyouverymuch.

I run the tips of my fingers over the small crochet stitches, letting the feeling ground me back into this moment. I didn’t have a pattern for this project, only a vision of what I wanted. It turned out pretty adorable, if I do say so myself. I just hope Romeo likes it.

My heart kicks against my ribcage, causing the butterflies in my stomach to swarm. God, I’m pathetic.

I keep replaying the last thing I heard Romeo say. I’m a loose end to tie up. I’m the leftovers from a problem far beneath his pay grade. I’m inconsequential.

Then why hasn’t he tossed you out yet?My unhelpful brain asks.

I’ve been wrestling with that question all night, which is why I decided to crochet away my angst in the first place. Romeo promised me his protection, but for how long? Am I supposed to stay here indefinitely? And do what with my time? Will he eventually tire of having me around and send me on my way?

Closing my eyes, I take a few calming breaths, forcing the whirlwind of unanswered questions to cease with each inhale and exhale. Dark brown eyes fill my mind, sharp, exquisite, and tinged with unbearable sadness. Just like the night he waited outside my door, watching me crochet.

I can’t explain it, but I sensed his presence before I saw him. Every cell in my body was aware of him, every nerve ending firing the longer he stood there, looming in the doorway. I could only see what the light from my small bedside lamp illuminated, but I could tell he was shirtless. Breathless, too.

My eyes wandered down the contours of his physique, rippling with muscles, tattoos, and old wounds. I wanted to ask him if his scars still hurt or if covering them up with ink helped numb the pain. I wanted to reach out and smooth my hands over the canvas of his skin, tracing his tattoos as he told me the story behind each one.

I cautiously moved toward the confounding man of secrets and sorrows, but he got spooked and ran away. It’s almost laughable that Romeo Di Salvo, revered Don of the Di Salvo crime family, could be spooked by little old me, but I don’t have any other word for it. He was like a panicked bunny rabbit caught in the crosshairs.

Who made you afraid of kindness?I wonder for the hundredth time since that evening.

Something in his eyes revealed a truth I’m not sure even Romeo is aware of. It’s obvious he doesn’t trust anyone, and probably for good reason. That night, however, the longing in his soul was so clear. Hewantsto be seen. To be known. Possibly even to be… loved? He just doesn’t think he deserves it.

Romeo’s aching soul was revealed, and I wanted nothing more than to cradle it in my hands and promise him he was safe with me. Like he keeps promising I’m safe with him.

He ran away before I could say anything, though, and I haven’t seen him since. I want to help him, to ease the heartache he’s been carrying around for so long, but I don’t have much at my disposal. Just yarn and a few crochet hooks.

Sighing, I look at the clock on the nightstand, seeing it’s past six in the morning. I suppose now is as good a time as any to deliver my gift to Romeo. Not face to face, of course. I don’t even know where to find him, let alone what to say to the man.

I get out of bed and throw a robe over my pajama shorts and tank top, hoping I won’t run into anyone this early in the morning. Gathering up my gift and all of my courage, I open the bedroom door and peer out into the dark hallway. Empty, like I had hoped.

My plan is to leave the present on Romeo’s desk or possibly in front of his office door if he keeps everything locked up at night. It’s such a small thing, and he’ll probably think it’s silly, but my customers tell me my little crochet creations always brighten their days. That’s what I want to give Romeo. A reason to smile.

As I tiptoe down the spiral staircase, I question my decision-making skills. Is it a good idea to be sneaking around this place? The last time I tried doing something nice for someone, I witnessed a terrible crime and put my life in danger. Do I have a death wish or something?

Still, my feet move forward despite my brain’s protests. When I reach the bottom of the stairs, it takes a moment to remember which way the office is. I was only there once when I arrived at the Di Salvo compound.

A memory of that day floods my mind. Romeo was so gentle with me, encouraging me to sit, resting his hand on my knee when I broke down, and holding me while I told him everything I had witnessed. There’s so much goodness, so much kindness buried deep inside. He just needs a reason to show it.

Gliding along the hardwood floor, I let the cool surface calm me and refocus my thoughts. I’ll pop into Romeo’s office, set down the little present, then hightail it back to–

“Thalia?”

I squeak at the raspy voice, startled when I look up to see Romeo himself sitting at his desk. It’s only six in the morning, yet he’s dressed in a crisp black suit and white button-up. Though he’s not wearing a tie. Must be casual Friday or something.

“Uh…”

“What are you doing here?” he grunts, furrowing his brow.

I’m about to tell him I got lost and sprint back up to my room, but Romeo stands from his desk, holding his hand out to welcome me inside.

“Sit,” he commands.

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