Page 3 of Tryst

And plenty of room there was. I lived alone in a six-bedroom, eight-bathroom mansion in Toms River, New Jersey. I never plan to settle down. In a different lifetime, maybe. Who knows? I hadn’t thought about it in years. Before I left, I was engaged. I hadn’t seen her since the sentencing. I could hunt her down and kill her, but I was much better off without her, and she wasn’t worth the chase.

“Thank youuu?” Marissa’s tone ripped me from my thoughts.

“Oh.” I bowed my head, picking up the phone. “No problem.”

“You really have to get a cell phone.” She snorted, reaching over and taking a pack of cigarettes off an end table.

“I’m going now, actually.” I laid the ridiculous, vintage-looking phone back on the receiver and pointed to my sister. “And no more smoking in the house now that I’m back. The study fucking reeks.”

Slinking off the cushion, she saluted me with the cigarette dangling from her lips as she stood. “I’m going to the back porch, bro.”

“Okay. I’ll be back later.”

After grabbing my keys, I headed out the door. My Underboss had delivered a brand-new F-Type Jaguar for me to have when I got back. As I slid into the driver’s seat for the first time, I inhaled the aroma of the crisp, yet soft, leather. I traced the threading of the center console with my fingers. The night of theincidentran through my head, and I squeezed the steering wheel as I pulled out of my half-circle driveway.

Buying a phone had advanced, and it didn’t take as long as I thought it would. It had been a quick purchase, so I went to see the beach for the first time in years. For security reasons, I wasn’t supposed to be out alone without one of my men, but I didn’t enjoy playing by the rules. I never had.

I wandered the boardwalk, lighting a cigarette, inhaling the freedom. Tourists and locals flocked to the shore during peak season, shopping and dining in the row of shops lining the beach.

Vendors called out to people as they passed by, trying to entice them to stop. Music blared from souvenir stores, and seagulls circled the air above, waiting for someone to drop a morsel of food. The aroma of popcorn, caramel, and taffy wafted through the salty shore air. It had been too long. I remembered the noises and scents as if I were here yesterday.

I came to a stop and leaned on the silver railing near a blue bench, watching the waves folding over the coast. Cigarette to my lips, I observed a group of women in skimpy, bright color bikinis. They were dancing to music while watching the men they were with play beach volleyball. One did a double take, glancing my way. She whispered to her friends for a moment before they turned their attention to me. It occurred to me they knew who I was.

I skimmed my surroundings, noticing the other people around me. Many were stalking my every move, reminding me why I didn’t go anywhere alone.It was time to leave.I needed to get home and set up my new phone, anyway. Nothing in me wanted to continue to be watched like an animal at the zoo. I spun to leave.

BOOM!

“What the fu—” Jaw clenched, I dropped my cigarette.

“Vincenzo!”

“Vika.” Her name leaked from my lips in a hushed rumble of disgust. I sucked in my cheeks, narrowing my sharp gaze on hers.

“Vin, what the hell are you doing out of—”

“Prison?” I cocked a brow. “If you’d stuck around, you’d know.”

“I—” She shuffled her dainty feet.

Vika, my ex-fiancée. She left me the moment she knew I wouldn’t be available to her anymore. She was a physically unblemished, dark-haired Russian supermodel with perfectly plump lips and brown doe eyes. When she was in New York for modeling, I met her. I gave her my heart, and she ran with it. I’d had five years away to get over her and all I wanted to do now was leave. Until my eyes lowered to her left hand. I snapped my glare back to her now mortified face. “You’re engaged…again?”

She blushed a crimson red as she fidgeted with the ring. “Married ac…tually, but my wedding band is in the shop getting resized.”

A blonde man approached with a small child who was his spitting image but with darker hair. Hand extended, he offered a wide, open-mouthed grin, waiting for me to reciprocate. That was my cue to go. I didn’t want trouble with her, and I certainly didn’t want to meet the man she’d chosen instead of waiting for me. He casually lowered his hand, sliding it into his pocket.She isn’t worth it. I sighed. The glint in her eyes told me she wasn’t over me, but I didn’t care any longer.

A lighthearted shriek summoned my attention behind her. I craned my neck, only to see a memorable face, laughing as she playfully slapped the arm of a guy.Was it really her?She’d grown up since I’d been gone. A lot. Elizabeth Whitman, James’s daughter, sashaying with some friends toward the sand. She had to be almost twenty-one by now. She looked the same, but so… different.

“Okay, well, we’re going now.” Vika’s high-pitched Russian accent echoed in my ear as she laid a hand on my arm.

Without the pleasantries and civil goodbyes, I took a step away, never averting my gaze from Elizabeth. She and her friends were getting settled near the ocean and I lit another cigarette. I slid my phone from my pocket, opening the contacts. I sighed, realizing I had to dial the number since the phone wasn’t set up yet. Thankfully, I had memorized James’s number long ago.

Hello?

I’ll come to dinner.

Fuck. What was I doing?

2

---