Page 80 of The Silencer

He points to a picture right above his head, and I take a step closer, peering at a young Luca holding Anthony’s wife in his arms, looking at her adoringly.

“That must have been a shock when you found out.”

“Yeah, it was. I freaked out at first but then I got a paternity test, just to make sure, and I know Anthony’s my dad. Luca was just the third, I guess, and Dad must not have minded.”

His eyes meet mine, and he cocks his head. “I don’t know if he’ll let Luca join with you though.”

I feel my cheeks start to burn. “I don’t think so either.”

“Would you want that? A third?”

“No, I don’t think so. I just want…Anthony.”

Angel nods and leans his head back. “Yeah, I think when you find your person or people, you just know.”

“Yeah, I think so.”

“My dad looks at you like he does my mom in her pictures, maybe even more so.”

I shake my head and then bite my bottom lip, fighting back hope.

“He’s not gay.”

“I know, but he’s obsessed with you. What does preference matter in that case?”

It’s true, I think as I wander around the space, taking in all the photos, and then I sigh.

“Why did he stop? Photography, I mean.”

“Heartbreak, I think. Maybe he’ll take it up again soon.”

His eyes twinkle, and I tamp down the hope building inside of me. No, no fucking way. But then again…

I shake my head and fall down next to Angel, resting my head against his shoulder.

“Don’t get your hopes up.”

“Oh, Tatum, all I have is hope.”

“Where were you?” Anthony grumbles at me as I stand in his office.

“Oh, just here and there.”

Angel made me promise not to tell anyone where I was or what I saw. Apparently, no one really knows about this little secret hobby of Anthony’s. Although, I would like him to take an interest in photographing me.

But then again, why would he? He barely knows me. He does seem to care about me though. He did rescue me from the bad men and has begun some kind of turf war over it.

I don’t know. I try not to ask too many questions.

“Were you with Bane?” His jaw tightens.

I snort and then murmur, “I wish.”

His fists tighten on his desk and he leans back, the leather creaking under his weight.

“Is that so?”

I peer at him from behind my lashes and grin slightly. “Maybe.”

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