Corrupted Queen - Nicole Fox Page 0,83

realize.

“That Irish girl who used to stalk Vito was at the funeral,” Mirko comments. “I saw you talking to her, Gabriel.”

I rankle at the thought of Siobhan, with her Botoxed lips and orange skin. “I think if Alexis hadn’t been there, I would have ended up yelling at her. I can’t believe she had the audacity to show up.”

“Despicable,” Dom agrees.

Antonio nods.

“I want to do something for her,” I say, staring into the bottom of my glass of whiskey.

“Siobhan?” Mirko asks, frowning.

“Alexis.” I drain the glass. “She’s kept me from snapping a few times, seems to have a knack for it. I feel that merits some sort of reward.”

She didn’t just keep me from snapping, either. She held me together when it felt like I was a bundle of sticks with only a thin cord stopping me from falling apart. I feel beholden to her for all she has done for me, even with everything I have put her through. I just don’t know what to do about it.

“What kind of reward?” Dom asks.

“I don’t know,” I reply, tugging the bottle of whiskey closer and pouring myself another glass.

The waiter comes through and distributes pizzas across the table, and my stomach growls. I have not eaten all day, too busy to even consider it. Perhaps I do need a break, as much as my men do.

“Jewelry,” Mirko says, folding a slice of cheese pizza in one hand. “Women always like jewelry.”

I pull a piece of pepperoni onto my plate. “Alexis doesn’t wear much jewelry.”

“She would if you bought it for her,” Mirko points out, taking a big bite.

I don’t know if that’s true. I sigh. I’m bad at this.

“Clothes,” Antonio suggests. He lifts a slice and the gooey cheese trails back down to the box. “Buy her a pretty dress and then take her to dinner. Make her feel like a princess.”

I take a bite of my pizza, chewing thoughtfully. The salty pepperoni is like heaven. I briefly consider just bringing her home a box of pizza. I think she’d like that more than she would a new dress, especially if I picked up some dough balls as well. I don’t think Alexis has ever yearned to feel like a princess, and I bet she’d laugh at me if I ever suggested she had.

I wish Vito were here. He would know exactly what to suggest. These other guys might know women, but they don’t know Alexis. I doubt they’ve ever met anyone quite like her.

“What does she want?” Silvano asks. His voice is quiet, soft. I am surprised to hear him say anything, as he’s been studying us silently this whole time.

I chuckle. “If she told me such things, I wouldn’t need advice.”

“She doesn’t seem the type to say outright that she wants a set of pearls or a new pair of shoes,” Silvano says. “I mean abstractly, what does she want? From you? From her life?”

I don’t know where he’s going with this, but I play along gamely, thinking back to my past few conversations with Alexis. I remember her suggesting that we run away together. I remember how tempted I was for a millisecond.

“She wants a fresh start,” I say, a little surprised by how easy it was for me to think of.

Silvano nods, steel eyes flashing in the way that Vito’s did when he had a particularly clever idea. “You’re all living in your family manor right now, correct?”

I nod, taking another bite of pizza.

“And that house has been in your family for generations?”

I nod again. The other men are watching, as though sizing up the younger Gambaro. They trusted Vito as inherently as I did, so they will readily accept Silvano into our ranks if I give the word, but they are keeping vigilant nonetheless.

“Then give her a fresh start,” Silvano suggests simply. “The two of you could move into a house that is just your own, one without the ghosts of your past, the attempted kidnapping, the attacks.”

He has a point. We have had good times in the mansion, but there have been plenty of bad times too. Then there is the matter of everything that house represents, all the history and all the violence.

“That’s a good idea, Silvano,” I say.

And the rest of my men nod in approval.

It takes my realtor Alice only a few hours to source the perfect property, and within two days the ink is dry and it is mine. Or ours, I should say.

David drives Alexis and me out to