7. Max

7

MAX

I stand at the kitchen counter, watching Gia and the kids eat their breakfast. My chest tightens every time she smiles at something the twins say. Six years. Six years since I held her, touched her, made her mine. But then I let her go.

“What are we doing today?” Daniella asks Gia.

“Today is a school day.”

I study Gia, compare her to the woman I knew six years ago. She's different now. Stronger, more assured. I noticed this about her last year but didn’t allow myself to think about what it meant because it would highlight how I'd failed her. She’s a woman who's weathered storms I should have shielded her from.

Back then, I told myself I left to protect her. Gino's threats still echo in my mind. But watching her now, seeing how she's raised these beautiful kids, I see now that I was a coward. I should have fought harder, found another way.

But regret is useless, so I'll guard her, keep her safe, and pray I don’t fuck things up with these unbidden feelings. Yeah, good luck with that , I think as I sip my coffee feeling overwhelmed by the domesticity of this morning. Making pancakes, hearing children's laughter, seeing Gia mussed but beautiful right out of bed, it's everything I never let myself want. Everything I walked away from.

“We’re going to school?” Dario asks around a mouthful of pancakes.

“Well, sort of. You’re going to have school here.” Gia wipes his face with a napkin.

“Who’s our teacher gonna be?” Daniella asks.

“I am.”

Dario smirks. “You’re not a teacher. You’re a mommy.”

I’m enjoying this way too much.

“Right now, I’m both.”

“Is there anything you need, Professor Cantore?” I ask, joining in the fun.

She gives me a look. “No, thank you.” She turns to the kids. “You two, go brush your teeth and get dressed. School starts in half an hour.”

The kids grumble but do as they’re told.

I reach for Daniella’s plate just as Gia does. Our hands brush. The jolt of electricity, as always, sends shockwaves through me.

The truth claws at my insides—I'm still in love with her. Never stopped. But I'm her protector, her brother's right hand, her godfather, for fuck’s sake. Each role alone should be enough to end this crazy obsession.

“I’ll take care of this. You cooked,” she says.

“Please. Let me. You have to get ready for school.” I take the plate, along with Dario’s and hers, putting them in the sink.

“What are you doing today?”

“I have to go into the office for the day. You’ll have the run of the house. Maria will be here if you need anything.” I want to stay here, work from home. Because I do, I know I need to leave. I can’t let these silly fantasies fog my mind. I have to fight them. I can’t continue to be taken in by Gia, by the way she tucks her hair behind her ear or how her lips curve when she’s watching her kids. I can’t keep reliving how perfect she’d felt in my arms.

I rinse the dishes and put them in the dishwasher to distract myself and keep from doing something stupid like take her in my arms again. I wonder what she’d do if I did? The Gia of six years ago would have melted into me. The Gia of last year… I can’t say for sure, but I think she would have accepted me perhaps after a little groveling. But now? Now she’s polite but treats me like her bodyguard, which is technically what I am.

“I’m sure we’ll be fine.” Gia slips down from the stool. “Thank you for watching them this morning.”

“I enjoyed it?—”

“But you don’t need to do that. We’re here for our protection. I can’t expect you to take on domestic duties.”

It’s ridiculous how much that hurts. “We’re living under the same roof. Domestic duties are part of the deal.”

She shakes her head. “Not parent—childcare.”

I frown. I feel like she doesn’t want me near the kids. “Did I do something wrong?”

She blinks, like she didn’t expect me to react like that. “No, ah… I just… I don’t want us to be in your way.”

“You’re not in the way, Gia.”

She gives me a wan smile. “Thank you. I, ah… I need to check the kids.”

I nod and watch as she hurries away. I wonder what changed from last year that she’s so eager not to be around me. Perhaps it’s a reaction to how I behaved the same toward her last year. I laugh bitterly at myself at the idea that I’ve brought this on myself.

I finish cleaning up, then find my tie and coat, check that security is full-throttle, and then head out to my office.

I’m barely in my chair at my desk when my phone vibrates. Nic’s name flashes on the screen. For a moment, I feel guilt at the carnal thoughts I have about his sister. No. Not carnal. Or not just carnal, anyway. But affection, love, that’s not something Nic would care about. He’d focus on the carnal and not approve.

“Nic.”

“I wanted to check in, make sure everything is going alright.”

“Any reason it wouldn’t?” I roll my shoulders to defuse the feelings of defensiveness.

“No, just that it’s a big change for Gia and the kids. She doesn’t like uprooting them like this.”

W hat she doesn’t like is having me as her bodyguard , I think but don’t say. “They’re all settling in. Any updates on who’s behind the messages?”

“I’m taking a look at four. One is Benny?—”

“Aldo’s kid? I thought we scared him away.”

“Yeah, me too. He’s in Atlantic City right now. I’ve got men watching him.”

Benny was dumb enough to poke a bear, but I don’t think smart enough to do it without being obvious, and Gia’s stalker has been more insidious. He wouldn’t be at the top of my list.

“Anyone else?”

“What do you think about Rinella?”

I arch a brow. “Your wife’s father?” Then again, his father did some pretty heinous shit to family members.

“Yeah. He’s pissed that I put an end to the trafficking deal through my ports. He should be thanking me that the FBI isn’t on his ass.”

“You really think he’d go after Gia?”

“Fuck if I know. The D’Amato family… Bella’s sister married into?—”

“I remember.”

“They say Rinella is an asshole, but not stupid.”

I mentally put Rinella lower on the list. Not lower than Benny, but low. Nic made a lot of enemies when he killed his father and took over the family. Surely, there are other, more viable suspects. “Who else, then?”

“Well, there’s Yurchenko.”

“Bratva?” Normally, we got along with Russian organized crime.

“Same deal as Rinella. Pissed that I reneged on a deal my father negotiated.”

“What about your dad’s old associates?”

“Most are dead or have come around. I’m watching Ricky Avila, though.”

“That’s not new.” Ricky Avila’s father, Frank, had been a loyal soldier with Nic’s father. So loyal that when Nic killed Gino, Frank organized a small band of other loyalists to kill Nic. They failed and all ended up like Gino. Dead. Ricky was just coming up in the family, and while he appears loyal to Nic, Nic is wise to keep eyes on all the family members of those loyal to Gino.

“Has he done something to make him stand out?” I ask.

“No. He’s squeaky clean.”

I laugh. “That’s what makes you suspicious.”

“Maybe. The thing is, I don’t have any proof on any of them. We haven’t been able to trace the calls. I’m wondering if you can use your tech skills to see what they’ve been up to.”

“Okay.” During my undergrad, my degree was in computer science and security. Along with my MBA, computer knowledge is helpful when so much of business and finance is done digitally.

"On it. What about surveillance footage near Gia's usual spots? School, shops, that coffee place she likes? You didn’t catch a glimpse of anyone?”

“Those are being compiled now. I'll have it sent over tonight. I want this fucker found, Max. Found and eliminated.”

“You and me both.” I end the call, already pulling up my contact list. Time to put my best people on this, dig through every digital footprint these four have left.

Someone made Gia feel unsafe in her own home. Made her fear for her children. They'll learn why that was a fatal mistake.

Later that afternoon, Alicia Sloan, my admin, knocks on my door. "Boss? Got those phone records you asked for."

I wave her in, scanning the list of numbers that called Gia over the past months. Most are familiar, Nic, the kids' school. But three numbers stand out, all burners, all untraceable.

“Were these cross-referenced with any known calls into the family?”

“Yes. None came up.”

Of course they wouldn’t. Whoever is stalking Gia is too smart for that. I’m wondering if Nic’s focus on four men is too few. There has to be a long list of people who hold a grudge against him. Nic's rise to power left bodies in its wake. But someone specific targeted Gia, chose her deliberately. The question is why. Does it even have to do with Nic? Maybe she has an admirer who is angry that she's not paying him any attention. Or perhaps there’s a woman angry that Gia has the attention of a man.

My phone lights up with a message from Nic. He’s forwarding security footage from areas Gia frequents, her home, the kids’ school, shopping. I lean forward, studying the grainy images outside a coffee cafe. A figure in a hoodie, face covered, loiters, but his attention is on the window of the café. I squint and wonder if the woman in the window is Gia.

Rage builds in me that someone would be following her, menacing her and the kids. I need to put an end to this. Not just to keep her safe, but so that she can go home and live her life and I can go back to mine.

I send the image to my security team to see if they can make out more features of the stalker.

In between stalker hunting, I do my job, but my mind is never far from Gia and the kids. What did she teach them today? Did they make use of the pool?

At six, I’m walking out the door and heading home. It’s the first time I’ve left on time in years.

I walk into chaos. Flour dusts the kitchen counter, and both kids sport white handprints on their clothes. Gia stands in the middle, attempting to salvage what looks like an attempt at cookies.

"We wanted to surprise you," Daniella announces, her green eyes, so like her mother's, sparkling with mischief.

“Well, I have to say you succeeded.”

“It was a school assignment, so I’ve let them do most on their own.” She looks at the dough. “Clearly, something is missing.”

I roll up my sleeves. "Let me help."

"You bake?" Gia's eyebrow arches.

"I have hidden talents." I take stock of their dough. Okay, so I’m not a pastry chef, but I’ve had enough cookie dough to know they need something wet like butter or water.

We work side by side, getting the dough at a cookie consistency and spooning it on the tray. Hell knows if it’s going to turn out alright.

“Did you make cookies when you were little?” Daniella asks as we wait for the cookies to bake.

“Not so much,” I say with a knowing glance at Gia. She’s heard stories about me and Nic as kids. We were little gangsters even at Dario and Daniella’s age. I share sanitized tales about my childhood exploits. The kids laugh, and Gia's shoulders relax. For a moment, it’s almost like we’re a family making cookies.

I've built an empire here in Vegas, but nothing compares to watching these kids taste our creation, their faces lighting up. Even the burnt ones disappear quickly.

Later, instead of heading to my home office like I usually do, I invite Gia and the kids to enjoy a movie. As we watch, my phone buzzes. I check the caller, and when I see that it isn’t Nic, I ignore it. Whatever it is, it can wait because right here, right now, feels more important.

Dario falls asleep against my arm, and Daniella curls up between us on the couch. Despite Gia’s resistance, I help her put the kids to bed. Not wanting the night to end, I invite her to join me on the patio for a glass of wine. I try not to be too disappointed when she declines my offer.

And so it goes over the next week. Each morning, I’m up early brewing coffee and waiting for the kids to join me to help make breakfast.

At work, I find myself eager to finish the day to return home. As I drive, my mind drifts to whether Dario finished his math homework, if Daniella needs help with her reading, if Gia will join me for wine once they’re in bed. I’m growing frustrated by her polite yet distant treatment of me, like I’m just another one of Nic’s soldiers assigned to guard her.

Every morning and evening, when Gia and I are alone, she executes a perfect dance of avoidance. It’s not lost on me that I performed the same dance last year. And I know it hurt her because I remember seeing the pain in her eyes each time I pushed her away.

She’s right, of course, to keep her distance. Six years ago, everything was different. I’d been her confidant. Her friend. For one glorious night, I’d been her lover.

Now, I’m her protector. I’m giving her shelter, safe harbor until she can return home and resume her life. A life that doesn’t need me.

Tonight, I watch from my office window as Gia sits on the edge of the pool as the kids splash in the water despite the temps dropping to the mid-sixties this evening. I suppose that’s balmy compared to the forties in New York.

The sound of Daniella's laughter floats up through the window. She has Gia's smile, that same light in her eyes. Regret and guilt swirl inside me. I admit, if only to myself, that I left Gia six years ago not just because Gino threatened her, but also to hide from these feelings. I shouldn’t have touched her. I shouldn’t have left Nic alone to protect her from Gino and Aldo. I was damned if I stayed and damned if I left. For five years, I convinced myself that I made the right decision for both of us, but last year, I was forced to face the truth. I ran because I’m a coward.

Gia stands and jumps into the pool with the kids. She breaks through the surface, water streaming down her face, laughing as the twins splash her. Watching it, something breaks inside me. It’s the realization that I could have had something with Gia, but now it’s too late.