Page 17 of Blood Ties

Like I would be in her life for much longer.

Because if she found out I’d been hired to kill her, she’d hate me forever.

“Older”—Sasha Alex Sloan

“Come out when you’re ready,” Alessio told me. He left me to get dressed in a dark T-shirt that was soft and smelled like him. The sweats he laid out on the bed were much too long and I had to roll them up. Without clean underwear, I put on my bra and skipped the panties.

I could hear him quietly talking on the phone out in the condo somewhere. It was a soft murmur that I couldn’t make out, but it was comforting knowing he was there. I slowly wandered toward the sound of his voice.

No way was he for real. I hadn’t had a lot of serious relationships because once guys saw that I was a “thick chick,” they tended to ghost me. Most guys that looked like him wanted that lean chick that looked great in a bikini—I was more of a pinup girl on a good day.

I love myself, but I didn’t usually get the response that I was getting from Alessio. Maybe over my boobs, but hell, I was curvy. I mean, I like tacos, so I had a bit of a belly. I wasn’t friendly with the gym. Not that I hadn’t gotten memberships before. But I rarely remembered to eat during the day because I was so absorbed in my work—I sure as hell didn’t remember to go to the gym.

He had ended his call and watched me approach. His chin lifted slightly as if… as if he was bracing himself for me to hurt him.

“My father is coming here. I can’t let him know about… this,” I murmured, self-conscious of what we’d done. I’d never been the kind of girl who was confident in her skin and with the opposite sex.

His beautiful blue eyes shuttered, and I knew I’d done exactly as he had expected.

“Of course.” He turned away and faced the darkening skyline. The lights of the surrounding buildings blinked on bit by bit.

A quick glance at the massive clock over the white marble fireplace told me my father would be here soon. My chest ached, but I didn’t really know why.

“He would think you took advantage of me,” I tried to explain.

He spun on his heel, his features tight. “I get it,” he bit out.

“I don’t think you do,” I tried.

He gave a humorless laugh. “Oh, I think I do. The precious rich princess can’t admit to daddy-dearest that she fucked the mafia-born scum. Right?”

The words were cold and hateful, and they hit their mark.

I clenched my jaw and painfully swallowed the lump of glass shards. “That’s not true,” I argued, my voice breaking.

“Nivea, it doesn’t matter.”

“Jesus, Alessio, I don’t expect you to fall on your knees, professing your love for me. I know damn well that we don’t know each other. But don’t minimize whateverthat,”—I waved my hand toward the floor to ceiling windows—“was, by saying hateful things to cover up the fact that you felt it too.”

The muscle in his jaw jumped as he clenched his teeth. No words left his lips, refuting what I’d said. The way he cast his gaze away and couldn’t meet my eyes told me I was right.

“I’m not the one who wanted to pretend it didn’t happen,” he finally bit out.

“Alessio….” I wasn’t trying to pretend it didn’t happen.

When I took a step closer, he held up a hand for me to stop. “You’re right. That was a… mistake. It shouldn’t have happened. Because who I am, what I am, isn’t safe for you. You’re a good person and regardless of my place with my family, you don’t need this in your life.”

Though his writing everything off as a mistake hit deep, I refused to allow him to dismiss the almost tangible connection we’d shared. I opened my mouth to continue trying to convince him, but his phone rang and he answered it.

“Yes? Okay, yes. Usual procedure. Send him up,” was his part of the conversation. He ended the call and tossed his phone to the coffee table. “Your father is here.”

Alessio refused to meet my gaze as we waited. Instead, he busied himself at the bar, setting out crystal glasses that he filled from a cut-crystal decanter. At the knock on the door, he set the bottle down and prowled toward the door.

That was the only way to describe the graceful, yet predatory, way he moved.

No words were spoken as he and my father stared at each other. Both were evenly matched in size and build, though my dad might’ve been a bit bulkier. If they squared off, there was no telling who would win. Except I prayed like hell it wouldn’t come to that.

Then my dad looked past him to find me. Alessio stepped back to allow my dad entry, and I took off running toward him.

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