14. Jasmine

Chapter fourteen

Jasmine

A s Zane returns from downstairs, the old wooden floorboards creak gently under his steps. I sit on the bed, unable to resist the homemade hummus, even after all the veg is gone. I could hear the faint murmur of voices from below, and cleaning the plate with my finger is distracting me from the thought the other mafia people are going to take me away for my sins.

No, I scold myself, he told me it was his sons.

The door nudges open and Zane's face peeks through the gap, his eyes crinkling with a smile.

"Hey, beautiful," he says softly, as if not to disturb the tranquillity of my meal. "We've got company. A little whirlwind called Alex has blown in."

I stand up, brushing a loose strand of hair from my face, curiosity piqued by the warmth in his tone. Zane seems to be a private man, confessing his devotion to his wife with the sweetest guilt. But now, he has a different energy, an almost tangible excitement.

"Who is he?" I asked, tucking my legs beneath me.

"Someone small but mighty," he chuckles, extending a hand to help me up. "You can stay here if you want, or come meet the typhoon that claims to be my grandson. He'sdownstairs."

"Grandson?" The word feel strange, almost foreign, yet it sparks interest. It solidifies the monumental age gap between us. I haven't even considered children yet, and the thought of Zane already having a family feels oddly comforting, but a grandson feels different somehow/

"Yep," Zane confirmed, nodding. "Alexei. He's quite the character."

"Lead the way, then." I stand, excitedly anticipating this unexpected encounter, wondering what tales this boy carries with him.

Zane waits as I rush off to the bathroom to brush this tangled damp mess I call hair. He's clearly torn between us, but the fact that he stays with me brings a smile to my face.

"It's best if we don't tell him too much about why you are here," Zane mutters. "And don't mention his mother, she isn't around any more."

As we descend the stairs together, the sound of the TV gets louder. We reach the foot of the stairs together, and a young boy runs at us. "Can I have a snack pl-"

The boy freezes when he sees me, his mouth forgetting how to form words.

"Alexei, this is Jasmine," Zane introduces, gesturing toward me with a hint of pride in his voice. "Jasmine, meet Alexei, or just Alex, the greatest explorer this side of the Irwell River."

"Hi!" Alex bounds over, all kinetic energy and a toothy grin, his initial nerves displaced by a simple introduction. "Do you like adventures? I've brought my transformers if you want to play?"

"Nice to meet you, Alexei," I reply, taken aback by his enthusiasm but charmed nonetheless. "I do like adventures, very much."

"Good! 'Cause Grampy has a house full of secrets!" His eyes sparkle with mischief, and I can't help but laugh.

"Does he now?" I play along, glancing at Zane whose expression is a mixture of amusement and mild alarm.

"Yep! And I'm gonna show you all of them," Alex boasts, puffing out his chest with determination. "I used to live here when I was little. Dad's house is big, but not as cool as Grampy's."

"I'd absolutely love you to show me," I agree, bonding with the energetic boy.

"Pack your things away first, and I'll make you a snack before your great adventure." Zane instructs.

I wonder how much mess a child could have made in the short time he's been here, but following the boy into the living room shocks me. He's messed up all the sofa cushions and covered the floor with various-sized cars and robot figures.

"Do you miss living with your grandfather?"

"Kinda. He looks after me a lot so I still get to play here all the time."

The logistics of two important men sharing the childcare for one boy sounds hectic and I wonder how much free time Zane actually gets. The idea of helping with that threatens to bubble out of my mouth, but I'm not sure they want a fugitive murderer watching the boy. Even mafia men would want to protect a child from that, wouldn't they?

Before long, I'm drawn into an imaginative game which I don't really understand but as long as I follow Alex's guidance, I seem to do alright. Before I know it, the sun is dipping over the trees lining the grounds.

"I'd best get dinner prepared for when your dad gets home," Zane announces. "Jasmine, can I leave you to contain the whirlwind?"

Whirlwind is an accurate description of Alex, no part of the living room has been left unscathed by his presence.

"Sure, we can tackle the tidying up." I straighten up the furnishings while Alex pushes everything else back into his bag. We chat about the differences between this house and the house where he lives now.

In the kitchen's warmth, the savoury aroma of tomato sauce and garlic fills the air as Zane busies himself at the stove. He moves with a practised ease around a hob filled with pots and pans. I sit at the kitchen island, perched on a stool, with Alex swinging his legs beside me, both of us spectators to Zane's meal preparations.

"Grampy makes the best spaghetti," Alex confides, leaning close as if sharing government secrets. His eyes, so similar to Zane's, are bright with admiration. "I wish Daddy and I could still live here. Grampy is the best in the world."

I catch a softness in Zane's usually stoic demeanour, a tender smile gracing his lips as he glances over his shoulder. It seems the family bonds are stronger than most kids share with their grandparents, and it humanises Zane from the mobster I first feared into date material. I gave him my virginity, but I'm beginning to consider if he's worthy of the rest of my life.

"Your grampy is pretty amazing," I agreed, gently ruffling Alex's hair. "And this all smells incredible."

"Wait 'til you taste it!" Alexei's enthusiasm is infectious, and I smile wider than I have in days. "Grampy, this is making me hungry, can we have snacks?"

"Cheese and biscuits?" Zane offers. Alex nods and hurries to the fridge.

"Did you know there's a laundry chute in my bedroom?" he says, barely containing his glee. "It's not just for clothes. When no one's looking, I slide down it. It's like having my own secret escape slide!"

I choke on my water, coughing a laugh while Zane, cracker packet in hand, looks utterly aghast.

"Alexei! That's incredibly dangerous," Zane scolds, but there was no true heat behind his words; more a mixture of surprise and concern. "You know you're not supposed to do that."

"Sorry, Grampy," Alex mumbles, cheeks flushing with the hint of a mischievous child caught in the act. "But it's really fun."

"Maybe stick to using the stairs, okay?" I suggest, exchanging an amused glance with Zane, who is trying—and failing—to maintain a stern fa?ade.

"Okay," Alex concedes with a sheepish grin. "But only if Jasmine promises to look for other secrets with me."

"Deal," I agree, my heart warmed by the boy's spirit and by the glimpse of Zane's hidden depths.

I could be very happy here.

"Can I show you the garden?" Alexei's eyes sparkle with enthusiasm. His chair scrapes back as he stands up, already halfway to beckoning me through the French doors.

"Of course," I smile, wiping my mouth with a napkin and rising from my seat. "If Grandpa Zane will let us off the clearing up?"

Zane nods, a pleased look on his face, as if proud to showcase the world he had built for his grandson.

As we step out of the kitchen and into the conservatory, the evening air is warm and heavy with the scent of blooming flowers. Alex leads me down the stone path, his small hand gripping mine, pulling me excitedly toward each new marvel. He points out the roses, the lilies, and the daisies, naming them with expertise beyond his years.

"Grampy taught me all their names," he says. "He knows everything about flowers."

We reach the end of the conservatory and step out onto the manicured lawn, after walking a short distance, the grass grows a little wilder and the trees cluster closer together. "And here," Alex announces with a flourish, pushing aside a low-hanging branch to reveal a wooden nook behind the largest oak, "is my secret den."

Peering inside, I see a mishmash of cushions, blankets, and a stack of well-thumbed comic books. It is a child's haven, lovingly made by a devoted Zane.

"Wow, your own hideout," I remark, genuinely impressed. "This is amazing, Alex."

His chest puffs with pride. "I built it myself! But Grampy did all the big stuff."

"Did he now?" I look over my shoulder to see Zane standing at a distance, watching us with an indulgent smile that transforms his usually stern features.

"Sometimes we have picnics here," Alex confides, lowering his voice as though sharing more secrets. "And Grampy tells the best stories."

I laugh, taken by the boy's enthusiasm and the image of Zane, this stern, solitary man, woven into these tales of wonder and childish escapades. "I bet he does."

"Come on, let's sit!" Alex tugs me down beside him, and as we settle onto the surprisingly comfortable cushions, I feel something shift within me. I want this life, and I'm going to fight for it, although I'm not sure how I feel about becoming a granny. I have time. I've known this man for less than twenty-four hours; I've got time to relax and enjoy what I have now before I worry about what comes next.

"Thank you for showing me this, Alexei," I said, glancing again at Zane, whose presence looms even in his silence. "I think I understand now why you think he's the best in the world."

Alex beams, and in that smile, I see reflections of Zane. Two very selfless individuals. Beneath Zane's mafia ties and all that comes with it, is simply a good man doing bad things to protect others.