11. Max

11

MAX

I was already off-kilter, not knowing how to act after that spectacular, yet forbidden kiss with Gia last night. I figured I’d play it cool. Let her lead in whether or not it was a bad idea. This morning, I wondered if the kiss was a dream as everything seemed like it had always been.

But when I walked through the door tonight, I’d moved away from uncertainty to pissed. What the fuck was Marcus thinking taking Gia and the kids to the park? What was Gia thinking in talking him into it? One wrong move, one missed detail, and…

My thoughts screeched to a halt when I saw Whitley standing in my living room wearing nothing but lingerie and Gia explaining to her that sex needed to stay in my bedroom. What the fuck?

I want Whitley out, but I don’t really want to deal with it in front of Gia, so I’m relieved that Gia has left. She'd just better not call Nic. What a shitshow.

“What the fuck are you thinking?” I say to Whitley once Gia is gone.

She has the good sense to finally cover up. “I hadn’t seen you in a while. I thought we could?—”

“You thought wrong.” This is my fault. I should have shut this down the last time I saw her. Now Gia thinks… Christ. The look on her face when she mentioned keeping my "sexy time" confined to my room. Like I'm some hormone-driven teenager who can't control himself.

The fact that Whitley would waltz in here like she owned the place, expose herself in front of Gia and the kids, is beyond infuriating. This is their home now, their safe haven.

“I didn’t know you had company.” Whitley slinks into her dress, her movements deliberately slow and sensual. My patience, already threadbare, stretches thinner with each passing second.

“You should have called. Fucking hell, Whitley…” I rein in my temper knowing it’s not entirely her fault. This time, she’ll know for sure that we’re done.

"I wouldn't have come if I'd known you had… company."

"This isn't about company. It's about boundaries." I grab her coat from where it's draped over my couch. "Which you crossed."

She steps closer, pressing her hand against my chest. "Come on, Max. Remember how good we are together?" Her fingers trail down my shirt. "I miss you."

I catch her wrist, removing her hand. "There is no 'we', Whitley.” I don’t want to be a dick, but I don’t know how to say this without being one. “Things between us are done. You need to stop showing up at my office, at my home.”

"Is this about her?" She jerks her head toward where Gia disappeared. "Your little houseguest?"

The suggestion in her tone makes my jaw clench. "This is about your breaking into my home and disrespecting my privacy. It ends now."

"Breaking in?" She scoffs, finally taking her coat. "Your security let me in. They always have."

"That changes today." I pull out my phone, already drafting a message to Marcus. "You're not welcome here anymore, Whitley. We're done."

She opens her mouth, probably for another attempt at changing my mind, but something in my expression stops her. Good. At least she's not completely blind to reality.

“She looks like me.”

What the fuck?

She sighs. “Or maybe I look like her. I mean, if you’ve taken in her kids too, it must be something special. Is that what I was, a substitute for her?”

“My relationship with Gia is none of your fucking business.” I move to the door, yanking it open.

“She’s so young, though, Max. God, she had to have been a teenager when she had those kids.”

“Like I said, none of your business.”

She steps up to me on her way out the door. “I feel bad for her. Women like her don’t get a say in their lives, do they? Is that what men like you prefer? Docile, obedient women?”

The truth in her words hits harder than I expect. Gia’s life has been dictated since the day she was born. By her father. By Nic. By Aldo. And now me until she returns to Nic’s protection.

“You don’t know me or her,” I say, hating how defensive I sound.

She laughs. “I know more than you think, Max. I lived my life. Achieved my goals. I’m a strong woman willing to support a man in your line of work.”

I suppose it’s an open secret who I work for, but that doesn’t mean I’m going to confirm her suspicions.

“I’m willing to choose this world. She doesn’t have a choice, does she? Seriously, is that what you really want?”

"Get out." I pull the door open wider. "And don't come back."

"Fine.” She gives me a pat on the cheek and heads out. I suppose I should be glad that she’s not weeping. That she’s as strong as she says. I shut the door behind her and call Marcus to make sure she’s never let in again.

I stride down the hall, finding Gia in the kids' playroom, finishing up fast food burgers. The sight of them safe and happy does nothing to quell the fear that's been churning in my gut since I got the call that they’d gone out.

"We need to talk." My voice comes out harder than intended.

The kids look up at me wide-eyed while Gia purses her lips.

“Are you mad?” Dario asks.

“No.”

“You sound mad,” Daniella says.

I muster a smile. “I’m not mad at you?—”

“You’re mad at Mommy?” Dario’s eyes narrow, and I can see him getting ready to defend her.

“Everything is fine.” Gia rises from the little table. “Finish your dinner while I talk to Uncle Max.”

Uncle Max. Fuck. That’s as bad as my being her godfather.

Gia steps out of the room into the hall, lifting her chin in that defiant way I both admire and dread.

"What were you thinking, going out without telling me? You know the danger you're in."

She laughs. “Oh, so that’s the big, pressing issue.” She shakes her head. "The kids needed fresh air. They're going stir-crazy cooped up in here."

"Then you come to me. We arrange proper security, plan routes, check locations." I step closer, the memory of her mother going out one day and never coming back filtering through my mind. "You don't just walk out with a couple of guards and hope for the best."

"A couple?" She scoffs. "Your entire security team surrounded us like the Secret Service. We couldn't have been safer if we tried."

"That's not the point." My fist clenches at my side. "Someone's targeting you, Gia. Someone who knows your movements, your habits. One slip-up is all it takes."

She’s not backing down. “First, there’s no indication they know I’m here. Second, we can’t live like this. They need to run?—”

“I’ve got a pool and a large back yard,” I clip out.

“And they’ve made use of it. But they’re bored. They want to swing and climb, and… The point is, we all still need to live. We can’t hide away. They deserve better than that."

"They deserve to be alive." The words come out sharp, cutting. "And it's my job to make sure they stay that way."

"Your job." She repeats the words like they taste bitter. "Right. How could I forget?"

I realize my mistake. We’re back to her accusing me of just seeing her as a job. But I can't back down, not when it comes to their safety. "Next time, you clear it with me first. No exceptions."

Gia's eyes flash with that familiar stubborn fire. Even when I want to shake sense into her, I can't help but admire how she stands her ground.

"We were perfectly safe." She crosses her arms. "Your men are good at their jobs. They wouldn't have let us go if there were any real risk."

"That's not the point?—”

“Then what is the point?" She steps closer, close enough that I catch the faint scent of her perfume. "That I need your permission? That I can't make decisions about my children's well-being?"

Whitley’s accusations of Gia not having any freedom in her life are still fresh in my mind, and guilt grows. I fight against it.

"The point is that someone out there wants to hurt you, and you act like it's nothing."

"I'm not acting like it's nothing. I’m not stupid, Max. I took precautions. We were safe, and more importantly, the kids needed this. You didn't see how their faces lit up at the park, how much joy they got from just being normal for an afternoon."

She stares up at me, waiting for my reply. I understand that if I keep harping on this, we’ll just keep going around in circles.

“If that’s all…” She turns to return to the playroom.

"We're not done here." Although I don’t know what the hell I have left to say. I could mention the issue with Whitley, but that doesn’t seem smart. Now I wonder why she’s not asking about Whitley. Did she really only care that the kids saw Whitley’s state of undress? Was Gia not jealous?

"The kids need me." She leaves me in the hall.

Dammit. There's more to say, more to sort out, but short of hauling her down to my office to have it out, there’s nothing I can do… for now.

I leave her there and make my way back to my office, pulling out my phone to find out about building a playground in my back yard. If the kids need to play, they can play here. Maybe I’ll even have a basketball court built. If they want an ice rink, I’ll build that. Whatever those kids need, they’ll have. They’ll love it here so much, they won’t want to leave. Ever.