19. Max

19

MAX

I drive away from the house feeling like I’ve got a hole in my chest. How many times did I nearly ask her to stay? In the kitchen when I could see the news of her going home impacted her. When the kids begged her to ask me to let them stay.

Having her and the kids here has filled a void in my life. Coming home to their chaos and warmth, sharing meals and moments, has felt so right. But the complications crowd in. I'm too old for her. I'm her godfather, for Christ's sake. And Nic… My best friend, the man who's been like a brother to me since we were teenagers. How would he look at me if he knew I was sleeping with his baby sister? That I'm fantasizing about keeping her here, about being a father to her children? That I've fallen for the woman he trusted me to protect?

The steering wheel creaks under my grip as I think of Gia’s mother. I can still hear her voice asking me to watch over her daughter. She made me Gia's godfather because she believed in my honor, my integrity.

Some fucking integrity. I was weak, unable to say no to Gia. But it's more than just sex. That's what terrifies me most. I find myself planning things. Renovations to make the house more kid-friendly, ideas for Christmas presents, ways to expand my legitimate businesses so Gia could work with me here. Building a future I have no right to imagine.

These thoughts torment me because they could never come true. Even without the age gap, the godfather element is creepy. People would assume I groomed her, took advantage. Nic would likely kill me because my duty is to protect her, not to fuck her.

Even without these challenges in our way, Gia knows, as do I, in this life we live, our first duty is to the Family, to the Don, to Nic. She’s stuck in it, while I made the choice to be a part of it. Either way, we’re trapped by our obligations.

My jaw tightens as I try to push away memories of and feelings for Gia and the kids, but it’s useless. They’re seared into my mind.

I give my head a shake and try to focus on finding Benny. That's what matters right now, eliminating the threat to Gia's safety, not these impossible dreams of keeping her here with me.

I park in the lot of the upscale downtown restaurant the business owns. It used to launder money, but now it’s fully legit. Well, except for business meetings like this. I'm in the back office with Dominic and several of my most trusted men.

"Run it down again," I tell Dominic. "Every detail from when Benny showed up at the casino."

Dominic shifts in his chair. “He arrived a few days ago. Staying up the street… not one of ours. We’ve scanned the videos from the last few days. Today is the first time he came in.”

I sit back in my chair, steepling my fingers under my chin as I try to consider what that means. Is Benny here just to gamble and seeing Gia was a coincidence? Or was he biding time, enjoying a few games while he hunted her down?

“From the video footage, it appears he sees her by chance. I don’t think he was expecting her to walk in,” Dominic continues.

That was my thought too, but it doesn’t mean he wasn’t here to find her.

“He made a beeline to her. I talked to Marcus who said he moved fast. He was there quickly. He told Marcus he was family, but Marcus didn’t care. Benny then yammered about how she got his father killed and stole his inheritance. Even suggested the kids aren’t his father’s.”

“Fucker would do anything to get those kids’ money.” I shake my head. Benny is a parasite. I was always glad that Gino didn’t bring him into the family after Aldo died. Nor did he seem to believe or care about Benny’s accusations that Nico killed Aldo.

“How is that he was here at all and we didn’t know about it until he’s up in Gia’s face?” I ask. It’s what Nic is going to ask me, and I’ll take the blame, but right now, I’m pissed that my men missed it too.

My men exchange glances which tells me they don’t know. “Why isn’t he in our custody?”

“A fuck up,” Dominic says.

“A major one.”

“We’ve got everyone looking for him. He hadn’t gone to his room, but Las Vegas has a lot of places to hide. I imagine Benny is good at knowing those locations, the weasel.”

I drum my fingers on the desk, my frustration building.

“Does he have connections here? Anyone he might run to for cash or a place to hide? What about women? Is there a regular he likes to see when he’s here?”

“Not that we’ve found. Most people think like we do. He’s a fucking putz."

I think for a moment, feeling like something about this isn’t adding up. "If I'm Benny, I'm not sticking around Vegas after threatening a Nardone. Guy's a weasel, but he's not completely stupid. He's gotta know we're looking."

"Where would he go?" Dominic asks.

Tony shifts his weight against the wall. "Reno's the obvious choice. Close enough to drive, plenty of places to disappear into."

"I suppose we could consider Tahoe too," Dominic adds.

“I doubt he skis,” I say.

“No but plenty of gambling on the Nevada side.”

He has a point. “If we’re focused on gambling, he could be headed to Palm Springs. Or Arizona.” But if he’s after Gia, would he leave? Is he lying low until the heat dies down and he’ll be back?

“Who do we know in those locations who can keep an eye out?”

“On it, Boss,” Tony says, pulling out his phone.

But I’m still feeling like we’re on the wrong track. Benny has always been a low-level hustler, more concerned with quick scores than elaborate schemes. The stalking messages Gia received are calculated, designed to unsettle without making direct threats. They reveal intimate knowledge of Gia's daily routine—when she got coffee, where she shopped, which parks she took the kids to. That level of surveillance takes dedication.

Benny, on the other hand, couldn't even maintain enough focus to run a decent poker scam. His confrontation with Gia at the casino was pure desperation, taking advantage of an opportunity.

In the end our stalker seems to be a man with a plan and a shit-ton of patience, and Benny has never had either.

"Boss?" Tony's voice pulls me from my thoughts.

"Double the search teams," I order. "I want eyes on every casino floor, every dive bar, every fleabag motel in a hundred-mile radius. If Benny's still in Vegas, we find him. If he's running, we track him."

"You think he's the stalker Don Nardone is after?" Dominic asks.

"Maybe. Maybe not. But he threatened Gia in my territory. That alone means we bring him in." I rise, ready to head out to my office. "And get me everything you can on Benny's movements for the past six months. Phone records, credit card transactions, known associates. If he's been stalking Gia, there'll be a pattern."

I leave the restaurant and head to my office. Alone at my desk, I can’t shake the feeling that Benny, the scumbag that he is, isn’t our stalker. Even so, he confronted her, so I need to deal with him.

The mention of inheritance and the twins nags at me. Not that he wants it, because I’ve known that ever since Aldo died and Benny made a run for the money. But what’s his comment about her stealing the money? About the kids not being Aldo’s. Is that just the ravings of a lunatic or is there something there?

I spread photos and documents across my desk. The security footage from Benny's casino confrontation plays on a loop on my laptop screen. I’m hoping something will make all this make sense.

I watch Benny as he sees Gia and makes his way to her. He’s not subtle. Looking at the screenshots from Gia's stalker shows a different pattern. This guy is the epitome of subtlety. Unless someone knew what to watch for, they’d never guess this guy was anything but a regular hoodie wearing New Yorker lingering in the streets.

I pull up the timeline we've assembled. The stalking messages started a few months ago in New York. Benny was in Atlantic City during that time, running his usual small-time hustles. But of course, that’s not a long way from New York.

I spread out the stalker's messages again, reading through them for the hundredth time. The writer knows things about Gia's routine that only someone close to her would notice. Who can get that close to her without anyone noticing?

On and on I review, I re-read, I re-watch, until my eyes are practically bleeding. I check my watch. It’s nearly two in the morning. I know that no matter what, I’m not going to glean anything tonight. So I head out, knowing my time is running out to find Benny.

I pull into the garage, the house dark and silent as I enter. It’s the first time I’ve come home to complete silence in the house. I don’t like it. Before Gia and the kids arrived, I never noticed how lonely this place was. Now the quiet feels like a preview of what's coming when they leave.

I loosen my tie as I make my way down the hallway toward their wing. Just a quick check to make sure everything's secure. At least, that’s the excuse I give myself.

I peek into the kids’ room. Dario's sprawled across his bed, one arm dangling off the edge, his favorite stuffed dragon clutched in the other. Daniella's curled up tight, dark hair spilling across her pillow. Their peaceful faces stir something deep in my chest.

I scan the room, which before had simply been a nondescript bedroom. Now, the fort they built still stands in the corner. Along the wall, their drawings are posted like museum artwork. The images are bright crayon scenes, the house, the pool, stick figures of all of us together. All of us together. Like a family.

I shouldn't want this. My life, the things I do, the enemies I've made… It doesn’t give me time or energy to commit to a family. But watching them sleep, seeing the home they've made in these rooms…

Christ. I want it so fucking bad it’s painful.

I've spent decades growing in the business, telling myself it was enough. Power, money, respect, that’s all I ever wanted. Now I stand in a dark room watching two kids dream, and everything I thought I wanted feels hollow.

But they deserve better than me. They should have a father figure who can love their mother openly without guilt. Gia deserves that too. I’m a motherfucker for taking my cake and eating it too, knowing it would end. Knowing it would hurt her, hurt her kids.

I move down the hall to Gia's room, because clearly, I’m a sadist. The door's cracked open, moonlight spilling across her sleeping form. She's curled on her side, honey-blonde hair fanned across the pillow. The sight of her steals my breath. She’s so peaceful, beautiful, everything I want and can't have. My fingers itch to brush that stray lock from her cheek.

I'm being a fool, standing here like some lovesick teenager. But I can't seem to make myself leave.

Her eyes flutter open, catching me like the fucking moron that I am.

"Max?" Her voice is soft with sleep. "Is everything okay?"

I try for a casual smile, though my pulse races. "Everything's fine. Just checking in."

She studies me in the darkness, and I see the same longing I feel reflected in her eyes. She pulls back her covers. “Stay with me?"

I should say no, should walk away and rebuild the boundaries I need to keep me sane. But those three words shatter what's left of my resolve. I move toward her bed, drawn by a force stronger than my willpower.

I slide beneath the sheets. She reaches for me, and I'm lost. I draw her closer, memorizing every detail about her. The silk of her hair between my fingers, the warmth of her skin against mine, the perfect way she fits in my arms.

Her lips find mine in the darkness, and I pour everything I can't say into the kiss. How much I want her. How much this means. How much it kills me knowing our time is running out.

“Max.” She sighs against my mouth, and my heart clenches. I've never wanted anyone the way I want her. Not just her body, though God knows I crave every inch of her. I want her smile over morning coffee, her laugh at the kids' antics, the quiet moments when she falls asleep against my shoulder.

Our bodies move together with an urgency born of knowing what's coming. Each touch, each kiss feels like both a gift and a goodbye. I try to slow down, to savor every second, but she matches my passion with her own. Her fingers trace patterns on my skin that burn straight to my soul.

“Gia.” I’m mad with wanting her. I need her like I need air, and it’s killing me that I can’t have her. I roll her under me, settling my body over hers, flesh to flesh. I grip her hands, palm to palm, lifting them over her head. I gaze down at her, and I could weep. The emotion is so beautiful, yet painful.

I sink into her, raw, real, pure. It nearly breaks me. I've had my share of women over the years, but this… this is different. This is making love in its purest form.

Her fingers grip mine, her legs wrap around me, and for the first time in my life, I really feel like I’m a part of something larger than me. Something that should terrify me in its all-consuming intensity, but it doesn’t. What’s terrifying is that I’ll be losing it. It’s like knowing I’ll be losing my soul.

I want this to last forever, to rock in and out of her, feeling her body wrapped around mine in this sensuous, awe-inspiring pleasure. But it doesn’t work like that. Our need builds and builds, and then we shatter, and along with it goes my heart.

After, she curls into my side, her breathing evening out as sleep claims her. I hold her close, fighting my own exhaustion. I don't want to waste these precious hours in sleep, not when I know how few of them remain.

But my eyes grow heavy to the steady rhythm of her heartbeat against my chest. My last conscious thought is a desperate wish that morning won’t ever come.