Addicted to Santino - Amarie Avant Page 0,87
entertained many black millionaires.
Though I was crawling around intimidated by him as a child and still feel the same level of fright, I hug him. “I asked for you hours ago.”
The federal agents had looked at me, eyebrows raised, as I told them they’d want to send the name up the chain of command.
Alexander plants a kiss on my forehead. “Humph, Galloway, these daughters of yours are as spoiled as ever. Gina, I was told you practically assaulted the alpha in the tactical team who saved—”
“I didn’t need to be saved.”
“Princess, I am not your father,” his tone is as scary as it was when I came up to his knee.
Shit, I cut him off. I shouldn’t have cut him off.
He levels me with an officious frown. “Why should I assist you, Gina?”
“This was all a big misunderstanding,” I grumble, trying to keep my eyes from Gabriella.
“I gathered that when I was awakened on Christmas morning. I am also aware of Santino Morelli’s entire lineage. Namely, the Romans.” His intense stare diverts toward Dad. “Although it’s rather delightful challenging your father’s wishes—”
“Castle,” my father growls.
“Galloway,” Alexander snarls.
My arms deflate. “I’m in love, Uncle Alex.”
He has the same stone-cold expression as my dad. Their love-hate relationship is triggered by those they deem unworthy.
I rub a vulnerable hand over my tight throat. “Geraldine is married to the man she loves. When you all caught up with us before last New Year, you and Aunt Verdie admitted how proud you were of Geraldine and Zane.”
“Ah, yes, Verdena had nothing but wonderful things to say about them.”
“What do you mean, Geraldine’s married?” Dad stumbles over his words.
“Ginaaaa,” my eldest sister tests as an FBI agent moseys by the corridor.
Alexander glares at the inquisitive official, who scurries along, then he grins.
“Galloway, Verdrena sends Geraldine and Zane a spa basket every Christmas. Same as you and the missus. Of course, they’re married.”
“The nicest gift basket I’ve ever seen in my life. Thank you,” Zane mutters.
Dad stares at my mom in shock. She lowers her head. For years, she’s faked oblivious too.
I snap. “Dad, they eloped from the start—married this entire time. Now get over it!” I return my attention to Alexander. “Please, help me. I can tell you the entire story later, but I can’t bear for Santino to be held a moment longer. This summer, Avery’s marrying the man she loves,” I mention his very own daughter. Avery and Donavan were mad about each other before any of us understood the meaning.
“Everyone, leave us!” Alexander’s voice booms. “Galloway, that means you.”
A few moments later, Alexander gestures toward the bench. Though frazzled, I settle down. He drops an arm along the back, peers at me thoughtfully. “Your sole argument is that you should be with the man you love at Christmas?”
“Yes. We all know Geraldine hardly comes around. First Christmas in years. Avery called me once,” I mutter. His daughter is an introverted individual. Also, she spent most of her life deaf and rarely reached out through TTY (a communications number which assists with phone calls for the deaf.)
“Avery and I talked about Geraldine and Dad . . . and you, with her.” My eyes slowly meet him. The tension in both sets of relationships are so similar.
Alexander runs his knuckles over his mouth in deep contemplation. Then Alexander looks me in the eye, as he does when talking to you. He has this gaze that can penetrate through a brain, pick it apart. Hell, I admitted to chipping an expensive glass buffet table at his house after hours of Avery attempting to train me not to. But I was only ten.
“Gina, I will never accept Donavan Hardy. That should be evident to the entire world.”
“But . . .”
“For Avery and my grandchildren’s sake, I make concessions.”
Oh, no. I thought you were developing a heart. This is a business deal in the making.
He inquires, “This summer, you’ll attend their wedding?”
“Of course!”
“I take it, you will assist me in proving they aren’t meant for each other?”
Abash, I utter, “Uncle Alex . . .”
“I’m not asking you to aid and abet me in a crime, Gina. Not that you would be penalized as you obviously are aware of. You called your good old Uncle Alex to assist you with this catastrophic event.” His tone becomes thoughtful. “I’m the only person who can mediate between the Feds and yourself. Especially now that it’s Christmas morning, I’m sure all the magistrates in these parts are on vacations.”
“You’re right. Santino would