“I deserve to waste my time?” I curl my lip like he’s insulted me, but deep down, I think I might be starting to understand. Fuck. Why now?
“You deserve to grow up and to find happiness and, yes, even sadness. Feelings can be good, despite what we’ve been taught. Mom would have wanted—”
“Don’t.”
“I was—”
“Don’t bring her into this like we even really knew her at all.”
“Pops says—”
“I don’t care. And why doyoucare? Pops doesn’t care about your inventions. Why should you give a shit about what he thinks?” Tito furrows his brows before shaking his head.
“You don’t have to be such a dick, Romeo.” He turns back to his work, and annoyingly, I get a pang in my chest. A prompting to apologize for my idiotic tantrum, but I don’t. I turn on my heel and go straight to my room. This feeling in my chest is untraceable. Why has it come, and for what reason has it decided to bubble up now? I’ve successfully gone years disregarding, stuffing down, and killing every single emotion that did not serve me. Now I’m on the verge of bursting.
And swirling in the midst of everything is Lydia Royce— her face, her laugh, her stubbornness and wit. What is happening to me? I grit my teeth and prepare to take a boiling shower. Something to burn away every thought until I’m empty again and pull it together in time for dinner tonight. That’s all I need— a way to ignore all of these nuisances.
21
KIRA
The past few weekends at the Miu Miu mansion have been very intriguing, to say the least. Romeo has still barely opened up to me, but last weekend, he began to show me a side of him I didn’t know existed.
“I call feelings, nuisances.” He had his arm wrapped around me, palm resting on my forehead, as we lay in the dark of his room.
“Why?” I asked with genuine intrigue, while also hoping this could give me some sort of insight into his life. Another weak point to prod at, since the other leads I provided to Kias all blew up in our faces.
“I don’t know. I think my life really turned to shit when my mother died. We all suffered, but I think my siblings think I’m the most broken.” I felt a knot in my throat when he said that. Something inside me ached for him, and I hated that feeling because it meant I was starting to care for him. I didn’t know in what way and still don’t, if I’m being completely honest. We lay in the dark for hours and kept looking at the ceiling as if it were going to change colors or reveal something spectacular. Then he tilted his head to me in the darkness, and I met his eyes.
“If not feeling means I don’t get to experience you in this way,” He runs a finger down the center of my naked body, and I felt chills expanding outside me as he continued on. “Then I might be willing to bother with them.”
“Might be.” I nudged my forehead to his, and he laughed. That perfect, warm laugh I’ve grown to associate with real happiness.
“Might be.” He whispered into my lips as they collided again.
That was a hard night after he fell asleep. I felt worse looking through his phone, sending my weekly report to Kias as quickly as I could. I stopped going to my room after he made a comment about it the previous weekend. So, it’s a little riskier to do this shit in the dark at the end of the bed, but he’s a pretty deep sleeper, and I needed whatever his phone had to offer.
Nothing, not even Romeo and our inexplicable bond, could stop me from reaching everything I’ve ever wanted. Therefore, I sent the message to Kias and curled up beside Romeo, trying desperately not to feel the pain of betrayal that shouldn’t have felt like a betrayal because I was only doing my job.
Now I’m packing for Paris because after this last weekend in the mansion, we are flying straight there. It’s nerve-wracking and exciting, not because I’m going to be in a fashion show, but because we are so close to getting the San Giovannis to submit to the Bratva. I can feel it.
Yes, most of the leads were a bust the past few weeks, but we have slowly nicked away at the security that their allies felt that they had in the San Giovanni’s by constantly attacking and diverting their plans. It’s been back and forth, though. They’ve made moves against us, and I know they feel threatened because they used to not attack us back unless we actually got one of their guys.
Lately, though, they’ve been making numerous countermoves, and I think they want to rid themselves of us. But the Bratva aren’t backing down so easily. I will admit that I’ve felt more guilt than I should about the whole process of everything with Romeo and me. And I’d be lying if I said this connection between us isn’t making me question why I hope to control the Bratva in the first place.
The other weekend some models on the top floor, the corner of the mansions, threw a rager after lights-out, and Romeo had to drag me there. I really didn’t want to go, but he insisted it would be fun. He was right. We had a blast, drank too much, and stumbled back to our rooms without flashlights.
“Shhh.” Romeo hissed through a laugh as I skipped through the hallway. He stomped after me, and I mocked his shush. His body clung to mine, and I felt free. Like there were no expectations and rules didn’t matter, and our lives weren’t going in completely opposite directions.
“You know. My parents left me.” I whisper in the dark. And he tilts his head down to me in the silence.
“Where did that come from?” He chuffed, and I shook my head.
“Honestly, I don’t know. I guess breaking the rules reminds me of them.”
“Why?” His tone reminded me that he knew nothing of my real life, not even my name.
“Uhm. Well, we have a family business. They left my brother and me to it without even saying goodbye. My brother was devastated, lashed out, and was always gone. I rarely saw him in the years leading up to his death.” I swallowed back tears as he continued to hold me. Our feet were in perfect rhythm with one another, and it felt like we were the only ones in the world.