Page 49 of Blood Ties

“After they tried to frame you, it’s a good thing I didn’t. I guess Carl used the access information you gave me to get into your home. That’s why I needed them to believe I had died so the FBI could find the proof they needed and not be a target while they did it. Carl had a PI following me and he told them about the headache herbs you gave me. That coincided with their plan, and that night after we had lunch, Carl poured me a whiskey I hadn’t asked for. As instructed, I didn’t drink it, but pretended to sip on it until Carl left the room, then poured it down the sink,” Justin explained further.

I was flabbergasted. “This is like something out of a book or a movie.”

“I’m so sorry you got pulled into it. I had intentionally left everything in trust for an extended period of time so you wouldn’t be considered a target. I wasn’t counting on Carl’s absolute deceitful nature.”

“Deceitful? I’d say more like evil,” I said with a shudder.

“I just can’t believe Jade fell down the stairs before they could get definitive proof on her. Then Carl disappeared. They are wondering if he killed her, then left the country.” Justin leaned back in the chair and lifted the cup of coffee I’d made him and took a sip. I imagined it might be cold by that time. He didn’t seem to care, but the poor man had been through a shitshow.

Neither Alessio nor I said a word about knowing what really happened to Jade and Carl. It was better that way.

“How did you know where to find me?” I asked Justin, curious now that I thought about the fact that he had no idea Alessio had been hired by Jade to kill me. Therefore, he shouldn’t have had any idea to look for me at Alessio’s place.

He gave a small, huffed laugh. “My own PI.”

We chatted some more, then Justin left with the promise that we would all get together soon—under better circumstances.

“What a clusterfuck,” I muttered, still blown away by everything that had transpired—as well as Justin sporting blond hair.

“You can say that again,” Alessio agreed. Then he looped his arms around my waist and pulled my flush to his body. I placed my hands flat on his firm chest. “Do you still have a lot of work to do?”

“Not really. Why?”

“Oh, I thought maybe I could do a little more ass-kissing again—literally.” His grin was wicked.

And I loved it.

“Oooo, I think that’s a brilliant idea.” I lifted to my tiptoes and kissed him, then took his hand and led him to his bedroom.

“Uh oh. It looks like we need to wake up the princess,” I whispered to my son.

“Wake Mama!” Christiano chanted, clapping his chubby hands from where we stood in the doorway.

Nivea was sprawled at an angle across the mattress, her hair an inky ocean spread over the tangled white bedding. I’d gotten in late last night and Christiano had been giving my wife hell. I’d taken over and made her go to bed. The little shit went right to sleep for me. It had been no chore to go join my wife in our room.

I brought him closer to the bed and sat him down. He crawled closer and got up on his knees. He leaned over her and carefully gave her a kiss. Okay, maybe not very carefully, because a long line of slobber followed as he pulled away. He was only two and tended to be a bit exuberant with his kisses.

“Wake up, Snow White. Your prince is here,” I softly murmured.

Niv’s thick, dark lashes fluttered, then she blinked a few times to clear the dreams from her eyes. The corners of her mouth slowly lifted as she smiled sleepily up at our son.

“Good morning, handsome prince,” she murmured to our dark-haired little boy. He quickly scooted under the covers with his mama.

“Give Mama another kiss, we need to get your shoes on. Nana and Poppa will be up to pick you up soon,” I told him. They had called to say they were coming up the elevator.

“Mmmuahh!” He drew out the noise as he kissed her again.

“I’ll get up so I can see Mom and Dad for a minute,” she said with a yawn as she sat up in the bed. Her tousled waves fell around her shoulders in a beautiful disarray.

“No, they’re staying for dinner when they bring him home later,” I assured her.

“Oh, good,” she happily sighed, then stretched as she yawned again.

“Stay here, I just wanted you to be able to say goodbye to our boy before he left,” I explained, before I scooped Christiano up again. Niv’s parents had moved to Chicago to be closer to their grandson. We had bought a home in Texas where we spent the winters so Christiano could be by my parents part of the year, too.

As I was walking out to answer the door, I snagged Christiano’s backpack from where I’d placed it on the table.

Matt and Charlotte immediately reached for their grandson, and he practically flew into their arms. I had to hold him tight because he practically dove at them.

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