8. Gia

8

GIA

I watch Dario and Daniella huddle over their workbooks in the makeshift classroom Max has set up for us. I should be checking email and doing my own work for Nic, but I’m distracted. A week into our stay, and the kids and Max have settled into a routine that unsettles me even as I’m pleased by it.

Max's home has become our sanctuary. Breakfast together each morning, lessons until lunch, afternoons filled with the kids watching movies in that incredible theater room or playing in the playroom while I do my work for Nic. But when the door opens in the evening, the kids light up and race out to greet Max, peppering him with questions about his day.

Max has been wonderful to them, to us. It’s a little discombobulating how different he is now compared to last year when he was tapped to protect us. Back then, he kept his distance. His responses when I tried to talk to him were clipped and formal. He'd barely looked at me, maintaining careful distance even when we ended up in the same room. The memory of his turning away when I tried to speak with him alone still stings.

I attribute his change to my making it clear that I’m not harboring any romantic notions about him anymore. My cheeks burn at the memory of my younger self, so desperately in love with him. No wonder he'd kept his distance. He must have worried I'd throw myself at him again.

But now that he’s safe from me, he’s attentive and involved and the kids can’t get enough of him. If he knew how his behavior now is drawing me to him more, he’d probably stop. Watching the kids light up around him, seeing how naturally they fit into his life… it stirs something in my chest, something I can't afford to consider.

But the emotions are bittersweet, because as I watch Max with the twins, my secret grows heavier. The way he helps Daniella with her reading, how he tosses a ball with Dario in the indoor gym, it tears at my heart. It makes me wonder what could have been… but I push that away. That boat has sailed.

“Can we swim today?” Dario asks, looking up from his workbook.

“It’s too cold today.”

The only downside to our situation is being cooped up. Their restless energy is building up. At home, we'd walk to the park, visit the zoo, meet friends for playdates. Here, we're caged in and while it’s a nice cage, it’s a little too contained.

I watch a guard walk past the window, his presence both reassuring and confining. The sprawling grounds beyond beckon, but fear keeps us inside. Whoever sent those messages is still out there, waiting.

"Mommy, look!" Daniella holds up a drawing, and my breath catches. She's sketched our little family, with Max standing beside us. My daughter's green eyes sparkle with pride.

I force a smile, but my hands shake as I take the paper and consider that I need to tell Max the truth. Finally, after all these years, I can let him know what we created that night he’d so tenderly touched me.

I’d been so ready to let him know last year, but he didn’t give me the chance. Now, I feel like I can reveal the truth and yet… something is holding me back. I think back to how he abandoned me six years ago. How he couldn't get away from me fast enough last year. All because he didn’t want to deal with my feelings for him. If he couldn't handle my feelings for him then, how would he handle this bombshell now? Oh, he’d do his duty. He’s good at that. But the kids don’t need a father in their life out of obligation.

I trace my finger over Daniella's drawing, wishing I could make this true for her but knowing it’s too risky. I've been down this road before. Six years ago, I'd convinced myself that Max's friendship meant more, that the tenderness in his eyes when he looked at me wasn't just duty or pity. I'd been young, naive, desperate for someone to save me from my arranged marriage.

Now I know better. Max had made his choice clear when he left for Vegas without a backward glance. I can’t let this return to the old Max kindness fool me into thinking there’s something more between us. It would be so easy to let myself fall again, to lean into the comfort of his presence, to hope that this time might be different. But I’m older and smarter now. It’s better to keep things between us cordial but distant, to remember that this arrangement is temporary. Soon enough, we'll return to New York and resume our life while Max will stay here and continue his.

I wonder how much longer I’ll need to stay here? It’s only been a week, but still, surely, Nic has found out something. I text Nic.

Any updates?

His response comes quickly.

Working on it. Stay put.

I want my life back, my simple, quiet life where I'm just Gia, not a protection detail, not a burden on Max's hospitality. He must know something about Nic’s efforts. I’d be surprised if he wasn’t helping somehow beyond hiding me and the kids away.

I think about how Max has offered me a glass of wine and a chat each evening, which I’ve declined every time. It seems too dangerous. He’s the man I remember from six years ago. The man I’ve always loved. The man I can’t have.

But maybe it’s time to meet with him just to find out where the investigation stands. How long will I have endure the torture of falling all over again for him?

“I finished.” Dario holds up his workbook. I take a look. There are a few errors, but I praise his effort. I renew my focus on the task at hand, educating the kids and doing my own work. The day proceeds as usual, or as usual for this phase of our lives.

When Max gets home, Maria, as usual, has dinner ready. The kids run out to greet him, and he’s quick with a smile as they jump around him sharing their day and asking about his.

Later, when the kids are in bed, I wait for Max to invite me for wine again, but tonight he doesn’t. I guess he got the message. Now what?

Before I can talk myself out of it, I'm heading down the hall, through the living area, and to the other wing of the house where Max’s office and bedroom are. The house is dark except for a sliver of light beneath his office door.

I give a knock.

“Come in.”

As I step in, Max’s expression is at first surprised, but then worried. “Is something wrong?”

I feel bad that I’m so distant that when I do reach out to him, he thinks something is wrong. “Not wrong. I’m just wondering if you have news about Nic’s investigation.”

He sits back, his dark eyes studying me. “Already sick of me?” There’s humor in his eyes, and yet, I hear a tinge of hurt too.

“Not at all. I’m grateful, I just… living in limbo is difficult, even more so for the kids.” That’s not quite true. They seem perfectly content. But routine is important to kids.

He waves me in as he rises. He goes to a shelf on his bookcase with a tray and bottles of booze. He downs the glass he has and pours another. “Would you like something?”

“No. Thank you.” I’d had a little bit to drink the night I’d garnered the courage to ask him to have sex with me, to show me how nice it could be knowing it would be a chore with Aldo.

His inviting me suggests he knows something, so I make myself comfortable on the leather couch near his desk.

He sits at the other end, sipping his drink. “Nic has a few men he’s looking at. Rinella?—”

“Bella’s father?”

He nods. “He’s unhappy that Nic thwarted his deal with Gino but still took his daughter. I don’t think he’s high on the list, though.”

“Who is high?”

His dark eyes watch me over the rim of his glass as he takes another sip of his drink. “Benny.”

“Benny?” God. I thought Nic had scared him off.

“Currently, he’s in Atlantic City. Nic has eyes on him.”

“He likes gambling and women.” Benny is one of those men who think they’re God’s gift to everyone, but really, he’s a smarmy, annoying jerk.

“He’s also looking at a Russian and something within the organization.”

My brow furrows. “Someone who works for him? Is he still working for him?”

He nods. “Keep your enemies close, right? He’s the son of one of the men who tried to oust Nic after Gino’s demise. Ricardo Avila. You know him?”

I think about the name, but it doesn’t mean anything. Truth is, I only know a few of the higher ups in Nic’s business and the soldiers he assigns to guard me and the kids.

“Did he do something to make Nic suspect him?”

“Well, Nic killed his father, so that gives him a motive, but in terms of behavior, what Nic is suspicious of is how unsuspicious he is.”

“What does that mean?”

“It means he’s a good soldier. Too good, perhaps.”

I have no clue why being a good soldier would put a man under suspicion for stalking me, but I have to trust that Nic knows what he’s doing.

Max rises from the couch and goes to his desk, picking up a folder. “Nic pulled these from cameras near your home." He hands them to me. The images show men I don't recognize lurking in cars, walking past my building. My skin crawls thinking of them watching me, watching my children.

I shuffle through the surveillance photos, but none of the faces trigger recognition. “I remember seeing an SUV outside a coffee place, but I didn’t recognize it or the men.”

“It’s probably one man. Build seems to be the same for all of them. In some ways, that’s good news and what takes Rinella out of the running as he’s not a man to do his own dirty work.”

“It’s good news that only one man is stalking me?” I ask, a little annoyed that I should be happy about that.

“It means there’s only one man to catch. If I were stalking someone, I’d use a team of men to do the job.”

“So this isn’t a conspiracy against Nic? It’s some wacko focused on me?”

“It could be about Nic. What better way to get to him than through his family, and you’re easier to get to than Bella and the kids.”

I rise from the couch having my answers. Sort of. I know what Nic is doing, although there still aren’t answers about who. “I assume you’ve been watching for anything here in Las Vegas.”

“Everything has been quiet here. Whoever it is doesn’t know where you are or?—”

“They’re making plans… figuring out how to get to me here.”

He approaches me. "That's not going to happen, Gia. I won't let it."

"Thank you, Max. For all of this. For protecting us, giving us a safe place.”

“Of course.”

“I am grateful, but you don’t have to give us so much of your time.”

His head tilts to the side, his eyes narrowing like he doesn’t like what I’ve said. “What do you mean?”

“The shelter and protection are enough. Everything else… well, it’s too much to ask of you?—”

"Too much?" His voice cuts through the quiet office, sharp and harsh. "What exactly is 'too much’, Gia?"

I take a step back, startled and confused by the sudden anger radiating from him. "I just meant?—”

"The security? The playroom? Making sure your kids are safe?" He steps closer, his presence filling the space between us. "Tell me which part is too much for you."

My mouth goes dry. This isn't the controlled, distant Max I've grown used to. This man's eyes burn with an intensity that makes my heart race.

"That's not what I—I only meant we're imposing on your life, your space. You don’t have to?—”

"Imposing?" He laughs, but there's no humor in it. "You think that's what this is?"

I can't read the emotions crossing his face. Anger, frustration, something else I can't name.

"Max, I don't understand why you're so upset."

He moves closer, close enough that I can see the muscle working in his jaw. "No," he says, his voice low and tight. "I suppose you don't."