Alina
“So it’s been almost a week, honey.” Mom looks up at me from her plate of fried eggs and bacon and tilts her head with a questioning smile.
“What do you think? Do you like it here so far?”
Huh? Why did she decide to bring this up all of a sudden? I frown, unsure how to react to it. Perhaps she’s worried that I can’t wait to get out of here and go back to Britain-which isn’t too far from the truth. But at the same time…
“It’s not bad here.” I shrug, digging my fork into the fluffy mass of scrambled eggs. “I still can’t get used to American breakfasts, though.”
Mom chuckles, but it doesn’t last long, and a moment later she clears her throat and looks at me, asking carefully, “But what about
everything else? Alina, I just want to make sure that I’ve done all I can to make you feel welcomed.”
Welcomed, huh? I chuckle. What an irony… although I’m sure she means it. She just doesn’t see how different everything is for me.
“Do you…want to stay?” Mom asks slowly, as if choosing her words, and I pause for a moment, staring down at my plate.
Do I want to stay? God, I wish it was an easy question.
The first answer that comes to my mind is hell no. Despite a few moments of closeness between me and Mom, I still feel out of place here. I can’t be a part of the Bratva, I can’t be a part of my family, and I spend most days locked in this house like a cage. Yes, I did run away once, two days ago, but when I came back home Mom met me at the doorstep with
eyes full of worry.
Speaking of that day…it’s the only thing that stops me from buying tickets to fly back to Britain. Because no matter how weird and complicated my relationships with my family are, there’s one person that really makes me want to stay in Chicago.
Gio.
I can’t help the rush of warmth in my body when I think about him, and my gaze automatically darts to my phone. I’ve spent a ridiculous amount of time waiting to receive his message. I gave him my number right before we parted ways, but he still hasn’t messaged me, and God, I feel so stupid for even feeling this way. I know nothing about him! Both times I met him, he showed up out of nowhere and swept me off my feet-both literally and figuratively. I don’t know where he lives, what he does for a living, how he found me, or why he’s so interested in me.
All I know is that Gio’s kiss left me completely head over heels for him. And to think that it was our first date! (If it even counts as a date.)
Never before in my life had I kissed a man on a first date-and maybe that’s why I’m still a virgin, huh-but once he touched me, I
couldn’t stop it. There was something between us, something that pulled us toward each other, and I know Gio felt it as well.
To be honest, if I’d been just a little more light-headed, I’m pretty sure I would have given myself to him right then and there. But thankfully, even after the best date of my life, I still had enough clarity of mind to pull back from him before our kiss turned into something more intimate. Was that the right choice, though? Because ever since he left me with a quick kiss on my lips, I can’t stop thinking about his lips, his hands touching me everywhere, his low voice whispering-
“Alina?” Shit.
I blink and focus on Mom, crossing my legs to push back a wave of arousal. “Yes?”
She frowns. “Did you hear what I asked you?”
“Oh, sure.” I clear my throat and hurry to put my thoughts back in order. “I just needed a moment to-ah, anyway. Do I want to stay? Well, for now, yes. I guess. I mean, there’s still so much to experience here, right?”
I chuckle with a note of nervousness. She’s not gonna get suspicious, right? I haven’t told her anything about Gio, and I have no intention to. I want him to be my little secret for now, until I figure out what place he takes in my life.
“I’m so glad to hear this, dear.” Mom smiles at me all of a sudden, sounding touched, and I’m not sure what I did to make her emotional, but I
give a tense smile back to her. “I was worried that you would feel bored and stuck here-but it sounds like you’re having fun.”
Does it?
“You know what?” Mom sits up in her seat all of a sudden with a look of excitement. “Let me call Irina, I’m sure she’ll find some time for you.”
Really? I sigh under my breath and shake my head, returning to my scrambled eggs. It sounds like Mom’s trying to force us to get along. I’m sure Irina won’t even show up here.
But luckily or not, it turns out that I’m wrong.
Sometime after lunch, when I’m scrolling through the channels on the TV and trying not to think about Gio, I hear the sound of a car turning into our driveway. At the same time, Mom enters the living room with a small smile that doesn’t look genuine and nods at the window. “Your sister is here. Do you want to go for a car ride?”
I frown and sit up, listening to Irina’s steps outside. “Where?”
Mom does her best to hide her displeasure, but I can see it in the way she purses her lips for a moment as if forcing herself to smile. “To Elena.”
I blink. Oh. I didn’t expect to hear that-mostly because Mom kinda hates her.
Well, okay, hates is a strong word. But after your daughter sneaks away from home, disappears for eight years, and then comes back with an unclaimed son and deep resentment toward you and your family, would you feel affectionate toward her? I guess each mother would choose for herself
-but ours decided that Elena’s betrayal was too big to forgive. So even though the relationships between the Russians and the Messinas have improved, Mom still refuses to talk to her.
Which doesn’t mean I’m going to support her against my sister. “Is it true?” I ask as soon as I go out of the house to meet Irina,
shielding my eyes from the sun. “Are we going to Elena?”
“Yup.” Irina chuckles and nods at the car, reaching for the door handle. “It’s worth getting into an argument with Mom.”
I huff with a smile. Yeah, I can imagine.
It doesn’t take us long to get to the Italians’ part of the city-a piece of Chicago owned by the Messinas, as Irina explains to me-and finally, we drive into the parking lot of Riccardo Messina’s mansion. Damn, it’s huge. I have to stop for a second to take it in when I first get out of the car. It has three floors, a swimming pool, acres of property around it, and a whole fountain in front of the entrance!
No wonder they call the Messinas the kings of Chicago.
“Impressive, huh?” Irina smirks, watching me throw my head back to take a better look at the patio under the roof. “Riccardo doesn’t hold back when it comes to proving his status.”
“It sounds like he’s a douchebag.” I turn to her, quirking my eyebrow, and Irina only shrugs with a hint of a smirk on her lips.
“You wouldn’t be the only one to say that. Let’s go, time to-”
But before we get out of the parking lot, another car appears on the road and turns into the long driveway weaving through the perfectly mowed lawn. Irina pauses halfway up the stairs leading to the entrance and narrows her eyes, watching the car. It’s as black and suspicious-looking as any other car in possession of a Mafia family, so I don’t really know what she’s looking for.
“Do you know who it is?” I look up at her, feeling uneasy. I’m on Riccardo’s property, after all. Would he be happy to see me here?
“I have an idea.”
Really? I hum and turn to look at the car pulling into the parking lot.
I wonder how she can spot a difference between this one and-
Before I can finish the thought, the soft sound of an opened door and a quick tapping of feet against the marble interrupts it. “Daddy’s here! Yay! He-oh. Auntie Ira?”
I turn around just in time to see a young boy, no older than twelve, stop in his tracks at the top of the stairs. He has the dark eyes and raven hair of his father and the sharp features and full lips of his mother; a perfect combination of two of the most powerful people in Chicago.
“Hey, Max.” Irina smiles and waves a hand at him, taking one step forward. “It’s been a while, huh?”
It takes Maxim a moment to process her words before he takes off toward us with happy laughter bubbling on his lips. “Auntie! Aunt Ira is here, Mommy!”
He runs straight into Irina’s embrace, almost knocking her off her feet-I even place a hand on her back to make sure she stays stable-when I hear a few chuckles coming from behind us. Damn, I almost forgot about the car! I quickly turn around only to see three men walking up the stairs, all of them sharing Italian features and amused smiles.
“Take it easy, Max. You’re too big to jump at people like that, even if it’s Irina.”
One of the men quirks an eyebrow at Max, and I assume it’s Riccardo if only because of the way he holds himself. All three of them exude strength and confidence, but Riccardo clearly-and probably habitually-positions himself at the front. He looks more self-aware than
the other two, and when his unreadable gaze lands on me, I feel caught red- handed, even though I’ve done nothing wrong.
“You must be Alina,” he says with a curious note, studying me for a moment before holding out his hand with a slight smile. “I’ve heard about you.”
“Me too.” I smile tightly, taking his hand. “Riccardo, right?”
“It’s been a while since you had to introduce yourself, huh?” One of the other two chuckles and slaps his hand on Riccardo’s shoulder before turning to me. “I’m Louis, and this is Paolo.”
Louis nods at the third man who’s eyeing me with an unreadable expression. What, do I look suspicious to him? I give Paolo a cautious smile and turn back to Louis. I like him the most among the three of them.
“Are you the one who came from Britain last week?” “Yes.”
“So how do you like it here?” Louis lingers to ask me while Riccardo and Paolo continue walking to the entrance with Maxim in tow. “Have you shot a Mexican yet?”
What? I part my lips, not knowing what to say to that, but Irina beats me to it. She straightens up and crosses her arms, giving Louis a jokingly suspicious look. “Are you bothering my sister?”
He immediately rolls his eyes before turning away to follow his brothers. “Since when is showing curiosity considered bothering? Or are they the same thing in Russian? I wouldn’t be surprised.”
“Don’t listen to him.” Irina lowers her voice enough for only Louis and me to hear it and gestures for me to follow them. “He gets out of
control when Sasha isn’t around.”
Louis gives her a pointed glare, but I only open my eyes wider. Of course! How could I forget?
“Are you Sasha’s husband?” I rush up a few stairs to catch up with him, and Louis chuckles and demonstratively raises his hand, showing me his wedding ring.
“Yeah, she caught me.”
“She almost shot you when you proposed,” Paolo comments all of a sudden, quirking an eyebrow at Louis. “You were the one begging for-”
“Okay, okay. Should I tell her the story of your marriage, huh?”
Now I understand why Irina told me not to listen to him-but at the same time, it’s kinda fun listening to two of the most powerful men in the Messina Clan bicker like teenagers. It makes them look like an actual family. Unlike the Bratva’s members who usually keep all their emotions to themselves unless it’s a family holiday or they’re drunk.
While I’m thinking about it, I finally enter the mansion, and the grand luxury of the interior takes my breath away for a moment. The high ceiling, perfectly matched furniture, polished windows, and a damn butler meeting us at the entrance. Everything here is just…wow. Riccardo knows how to live a gracious life-especially when he has someone to share it
with.
“Alina!” I hear Elena’s voice coming from above, and as soon as I look up, I see her hurrying down the stairs with a smile on her lips. “God, I can’t believe you’re finally here.”
She rushes to hug me, and I feel my heart swell with fondness as I carefully wrap my arms around her shoulders. No matter what Mom thinks, Elena will always be a part of our family.
“Let me look at you.” She pulls back, keeping her hand on my shoulder, and I can’t help but study her as well.
Yes, Elena has changed over the years, but it has only added to her beauty. She’s not as slender and pale as I remember her; instead, it looks like she’s gained some curves and a healthy blush to her cheeks. With her loose dress and blonde hair tied in a pigtail, Elena looks like a young mother-even if you don’t take into account the seven-month-old baby in her arms.
“Mia, are you ready to meet your new auntie?” Elena turns to her daughter a moment later, when Mia flails her arms in an attempt to reach Elena’s pigtail. Her other hand is in her mouth, her gaze focused on Elena’s chin, and it looks like Mia is quite content without any aunts in her life.
Unlike Maxim who, after studying me from the corner of his eye, finally tugs at Irina’s sleeve and asks in a loud whisper, “Is this your friend?”
“It’s our sister,” Elena says instead, and looks at me with softness in her bright blue eyes. “And she’s finally back home.”
For some reason, when she says it like that, it does feel like I’m home.
I spend the rest of the day at Riccardo and Elena’s mansion, catching up on life with my sisters, entertaining Maxim and Mia, and getting to know my in-laws better. And you know what? It turns out that this side of my family is quite fun.
To be honest, after everything I’d heard about how fierce and powerful they are, I thought the Messinas were cold, sneaky, and obsessed with their status. Well, pretty much like how I imagine any other Mafia family. But in reality, the Messinas turn out to be good people-at least, the ones I get to know. Louis is loud and keeps cracking jokes, Paolo asks me
about life in Britain, and Riccardo offers me just enough hospitality to make me feel welcomed without bringing too much attention to my presence.
All in all, I find myself enjoying their company-but from time to time, my thoughts still drift back to Gio. I can’t help but think how similar he is to the men in front of me, both in appearance and attitude.