“I’ll have to keep working on rewiring my brain to think of my father as a good man instead of the immature jackass I’ve made him out to be all these years.”
“You do that. Because he is one of the best men I know. He’s protective, loyal to a fault when it comes to the people he loves. And is man enough to show it. Embarrasses all of us with his easy affection.”
She sat back in her chair. “How?”
“Smacking kisses to our red faces every time he sees us.” He flashed a crooked smile, as though picturing what he was saying, and poured himself more coffee. He held the carafe over her cup and she nodded. “Uses it being a Russian custom as an excuse. Vincente has the hardest time with it—his family was the opposite of Alek’s with showing emotion, kind of like mine—which is why your father makes V’s greeting louder and longer-lasting than any of ours. He has a dry sense of humor, is generous, but not ostentatious about it. His support, in certain things, is always anonymous. Last year he financed some sort of rebuild in his hometown of Noginsk, on the outskirts of Moscow. Refused to put his name anywhere. Made Maksim wire gobs of money through an untraceable account to make sure no accolades came his way.”
Affection and respect rang clear in Gabriel’s voice, and, even though it was ridiculous, a feeling of resentment had her wrinkling her nose. “I’m sorry, but speaking of selfish, I’m jealous that you know him so well,” she said as she took a drink from her warmed-up coffee.
“Oh, sweetheart…” He reached up and gently tugged a lock of her hair. “You’ll have your chance. I don’t think there’s anything he’d want more than to have you in his life. And don’t think he had any choice in getting to know me. All it took was a time or two that Alek invited me and Vincente to come hang out—after that we just showed up on our own. Anything was better than our places.”
“Why?”
He shrugged and got up to go out into the main room. Coming back with his phone, he placed it next to his plate, facedown. Always facedown, she noticed.
“V’s old man was a flashy asshole who left V to raise his little sister on his own after his mom died. Fuckin’ guy wasn’t even in high school yet, for chrissakes. And in my case, Stefano never hid the fact that he couldn’t stand me, for reasons I’m still not aware of. Even when we were kids, he always looked at me like…” He thought for a second and then shrugged. His knee connected with hers under the table. She didn’t move, and neither did he. “Like he hated my guts. I get why he does now, but back then, it never made sense to me. You’re his fourth target in this eye-for-an-eye thing, by the way. He already took the lives of three women I was involved with.”
Eva put her cup down and tried like hell not to show she was sickened by thoughts of him with those other women. It was awful that they’d been killed, yes, but the idea of him having a relationship with them… Three of them. Having sex. The way he had with her.
Ice trailed down her spine, making her teeth scrape together. He certainly hadn’t been lonely.
“Anyway,” he said, oblivious to her experiencing her first bout of jealousy. “The point I was trying to make was that my brother made being home miserable and I took advantage of any opportunity to be anywhere else. And not only him, but my father. ‘My responsibility’ was all I ever heard about.” His lip curled. “Couldn’t sneeze without him asking if that’s the way a Don would do it. He was a pro at reminding me that leading the family was all I was good for.”
Compassion for the young boy he’d been eased her further down the path of understanding. And forgiveness. No, she wasn’t forgetting that he’d done some shitty things, but he hadn’t done them not out of spite. In his own way, he’d always had her best interests at heart. She saw that now, and it touched her.
Leaning over the corner of the table, she finally gave in and kissed this complex man who was becoming harder and harder to resist.