Gian (Trassato Crime Family #1)(46)

“Thanks.” My voice cracked.

She picked up the stack of magazines and tucked them under her arm. “Call me if you need anything. I can be a formidable opponent when necessary, and you have an ally in me.”

I didn’t doubt it.

She raised her eyebrows. “These men think they can handle the world and keep us in the dark all the time, but we’re far from the wilting flowers they think we are.”





CHAPTER





TWENTY-FIVE


Gian



I moved through the darkened hallway outside of my bedroom. It was well after two in the morning. The silent hum of the ceiling fan indicated Evie hadn’t waited up for me. With the exception of a text telling me she finished dancing at her studio, I hadn’t heard from her all day.

I paused at the foot of the bed, taking in her shadowed form. My gut twisted in knots every time I saw her. Something about her made it impossible for me to look anywhere other than at her when she was in the same room as me.

For five days, I hadn’t asked Evie a single question about her ex or that woman. And for five f*cking days, I hadn’t heard another word from Nico or Dominick about it. I went to work. I made deals. I dodged Angela at every turn, which meant I needed to fire her ass soon because she couldn’t get it through her head that I didn’t want anything to do with her. When I ran out of distractions, I organized a high-stakes card game for this weekend. As pathetic as it sounded, nothing erased the lingering doubts about Evie and her ex.

“Hey,” she rasped, flipping onto her back, and my heart banged against my ribcage. “You’re home late.”

“Yeah.” I kicked off my black leather shoes. “Some things came up. I couldn’t get away.”

She switched on the lamp next to the bed, flooding the room with yellow light. “There’s leftovers in the fridge if you’re hungry.”

Choking on a laugh, I unbuttoned my suit jacket and tossed it on the top of the dresser. “You cooked?” My mom would have a heart attack if she found out how little Evie actually knew about cooking. She burned half of the things she tried to prepare, and the other half tasted like she opened a can and warmed it up in the microwave.

“No. I ordered takeout. I think I’m done pretending I can cook. I don’t think I’m fooling anyone.”

I unbuckled my belt and shoved my pants to the ground, her eyes tracking every movement. She flashed me my favorite smile—the one that felt as if it was custom-made for me—when she noticed I caught her gawking.

“No. You’re not, but my mom is dying to come over and give you a crash course.”

Her smile slipped. “I’ll pass. I don’t think that’s a good idea, considering…” she plucked at the edge of the sheet, “well, everything. I don’t want her to get invested in something that’s not permanent. It doesn’t seem right, especially with your dad so sick.”

A pang of unease constricted my throat. I didn’t have a f*cking clue how we were going to make this work. “You’re probably right.” I blew out a sigh laced with more than a little regret. “I’m going to take a quick shower. You should go back to sleep.”

Evie curled her arms around her torso, making her dancer’s frame look small and delicate. “Okay,” she said, her voice soft and uncertain.

Although my gut clenched and I wanted to take back my words, I didn’t. I couldn’t. I had no clue what to say. I retreated to the bathroom, closing the door behind me, putting up a physical barrier to match the emotional one that never seemed to disappear between us.

A bright light flickered on the bathroom counter, reflecting off the mirror that ran the length of the far wall. I glanced at Evie’s phone, and a text from her ex-fiancé lit up the screen. I knew I shouldn’t read it. I should trust her, but I couldn’t stop myself. I needed to know what he wanted, especially if I didn’t want to hear it secondhand from Nico or that piece of shit Carlo.

I swiped her screen and pulled up her recent texts. She really needed to put a passcode on her phone; however, I wouldn’t lobby her to do that any time in the near future.



Kevin: We weren’t done talking. Why you’d leave today without letting me explain?



Evie: We don’t have anything else to talk about. Stop contacting me. I don’t want to work things out.



Kevin: Because of Carmela’s brother. You can’t trust him.



Evie: It’s none of your business.



Kevin: Are you dating him?



Evie: I already told you we’re friends. He’s helping me out. That’s all you need to know.



Kevin: He’s going to ruin your life. You need to get away from him.



Evie: You lost the right to tell me what to do when I caught you f*cking your so-called protégé.



Kevin: I know I screwed up, but please let me explain what happened with Ana. I owe you that. We both deserve closure.



Evie: Fine. What time?



Kevin: Be at my studio at noon. We’ll have lunch.



I sucked in a deep breath, anger simmering inside me, black dots spotting my vision. I couldn’t think straight. I’d let her run around the city for weeks unaccompanied. I gave her freedom. I gave her my trust on a f*cking platter, and she repaid me by sneaking around with her ex. Then she crawled in my bed at night like nothing happened. Like she didn’t owe me anything. Like I didn’t have a right to know she’d been talking to that * again.