Total pages in book: 93
Estimated words: 89145 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 446(@200wpm)___ 357(@250wpm)___ 297(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 89145 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 446(@200wpm)___ 357(@250wpm)___ 297(@300wpm)
He averted his stare once more, and I saw his chest rise and fall with a tremble to each breath.
“I never should have dismissed what you said about them—my mother and my sisters too,” I admitted. “In retrospect, I was…I was so adamant about believing things were going well—that we were merged as families, and… I just refused to acknowledge there were any issues.”
And this right here brought on the guilt within me. It formed a fist around my chest whenever I thought about how lonely Alfie must’ve been in those moments. And how it obviously had prompted him to change. To tone things down. Because, if I didn’t listen to him, who would? His own husband had waved him off.
I despised how this muddled things, because there were causes and effects—consequences to every action. No matter how much Alfie had lied, I was desperate to believe I knew him enough to claim he had a good heart. The best heart. He didn’t lie because he was sinister. He hadn’t lied to me because he’d gotten a kick out of it or because he hadn’t cared enough to tell the truth. He’d tried to tell the truth—at least where my family was concerned.
It didn’t excuse his future deceit in joining the goddamn mafia behind my back, but all those changes…? My dismissal had been the starting point. He’d changed in order to protect himself from judgment from people I’d constantly taken him to meet. Alfie had always been supportive of my career, and whenever I’d asked him to come with me for a social function, he’d said yes. Knowing full well he’d be on his own against the worst in my circles, whether that was at work or within my family.
Ironically, I’d wanted him there because I loathed those people too. My field was filled with hypocrites who’d climbed from nothing to suddenly be able to afford nice suits and look down on anyone trying to get up. I’d never fucking understood it. The behavior went beyond competitiveness.
I cleared my throat again, and the guilt pushed me to go further. When I was angry, apologizing wasn’t on my radar—but right now, I needed to say something. I needed to acknowledge what I’d done.
“I’m so incredibly sorry for putting you on the front line without me as your defense,” I said quietly. “I understand how and why you felt the need to modify your behavior.”
He turned back to me with a confused expression, as if this had been the last thing he’d expected.
Truth be told, whatever flew out of my mouth these days was a bit unpredictable. My apology was heartfelt, but in order to get there, I had to make my way through this particular line of thinking first. I had to put myself in his shoes; I had to think back on all those functions. And there were many of them. I’d grown up at garden parties and banquets. Discovering that my line of work came with an abundance of networking events hadn’t even fazed me.
“Thank you.”
I nodded minutely and watched Ellie, unable to decipher the look in Alfie’s eyes. A young woman was gently positioning a rabbit in Ellie’s arms, and I could already predict what she wanted for Christmas.
I released a breath and started gathering the paper dishes back on the tray. Discarded napkins too, before they ended up on the grass.
“You’re a sad monkey.”
I flicked a glance at Alfie. He didn’t smile or anything, and that was good. I was in no mood for banter or lighthearted topics. Nothing about this was light—but sure, I bet I looked ridiculous in my damn monkey makeup.
He didn’t look too badass with his glitter butterfly either.
“We can’t all sparkle like you.” I rose to my feet and carried the tray over to the nearest trash can.
Like a flip of a switch, the grief took over again, and I was mourning the outcome of my life. How all my fucking dreams had shattered.
My eyes burned as I threw away the trash, and then I went to return the tray to the food truck. Maybe I’d missed a garbage station. Surely the trays weren’t meant to be thrown out.
When I came back to the table, I sat down again, and Alfie had a pensive look on his face.
“It’s ironic, innit? Your dad was right,” he said.
I lifted my brows. “Pardon?”
He smiled faintly, without any trace of actual mirth. “I am what your family feared I was. I just stopped denying it.”
Was that… Was he confessing to being in the mob?
“Are you a Son?” I had to know.
He glanced around us, subtle-like, before shaking his head. “Not yet.”
But he would be one day?
“Kellan branched out when he gave me that job,” he said. “He went outside the syndicate to get someone who’d remain on the outside.”