His brow dipped. “Sorry for what?”
“Ginevra—Marcus told us she’s on her way to a private airstrip to catch a flight to New York today. I assumed that would upset you.”
Sure did.
A lot.
He hadn’t known until now. He couldn’t call Marcus to ask anything because he ruined his phone. He could use anybody’s phone to do it, but he didn’t want to.
If Ginevra needed to leave, why should they stop her?
Yeah, it fucking hurt.
Life took from him again.
“Corrado?”
His mother’s hand came up to rest on his arm, letting him know how stiff and quiet he had gone after she delivered her news. He forced a smile on his face, not wanting to worry his mother, and shook his head.
“I’m fine, Ma,” he said softly.
Cara frowned. “Are you?”
No.
Still, if Ginevra wanted time and space, well, it was hers to have.
“It will be.”
She sighed. “Let me see you out, then.”
“Sure, Ma.”
Outside, on the front steps of the mansion entrance, Corrado kissed his mother on the cheek to say goodbye before leaving her to approach Alessio standing under the maple tree with Bene. One look from Corrado, and Bene gave Alessio a shrug before he darted off to join their mother.
“What’s wrong?” Alessio asked.
He just knew.
Because of course, he did.
Corrado’s life took a nosedive.
Fast.
“Nothing,” he lied.
Alessio arched a brow. “Really?”
“Yeah, just some news.”
“And?”
“Ginevra is on her way back to New York today.”
Alessio stiffened all over, but returned with, “So, you catch a flight, and meet her.”
“Why?”
The two of them stared at one another, saying nothing.
“If that’s where she wants to be, Les,” Corrado said.
“You know nothing she wants. You didn’t ask. Neither did I, Corrado, not really. She asked for time, not for us to fuck off.”
“You have a flight to catch, don’t you?”
“Corrado.” Alessio’s phone buzzed in his pocket, and he scowled. “She’s supposed to be with us.”
“Answer your phone.”
Alessio continued ignoring it.
“Cor—”
“If she wants to be with us, she will, but I will not force her,” Corrado said, letting that be his final word on the topic. “And answer your phone.”
“It’s Cree. Or Dare. I’m supposed to be on a flight this morning, but changed to one this afternoon instead. They got a notification for the change, I imagine—doesn’t matter.”
“The world doesn’t stop for me, Les. I learned that a while ago. You still have a job to do, people are still waiting on you, and I have to figure shit out on my own.”
“Don’t start.”
“Start what?”
“This,” Alessio snapped. “Run because you don’t like to deal. You’ve been doing this for years, and I’ve chased after you the entire time. Stop, Corrado.”
“I’m not running.”
For once, he came to a standstill, and he didn’t have the first clue how to fix it. He was one of three people here—he couldn’t help if Alessio couldn’t understand that, not to mention, that he didn’t think he wanted more pain from this.
Because she left.
Ginevra left.
And that’s all leaving meant to Corrado.
26.
Alessio
The phone continued to ring in his ear; the call went unanswered. Alessio didn’t want to let that bother him, except it did. It wasn’t like Corrado to ignore his calls. For another, he could tell Corrado was in a bad headspace before he left, and wanted to check in last minute before he headed out of The League’s complex to catch his second flight of the damn day.
That night-long layover he was supposed to have after leaving Vegas in Toronto before flying off the continent had changed to two hours. People didn’t complain when a long layover was shortened, but Alessio was the first to do exactly that. Not that he understood why the flight schedules had changed, but it meant he would barely have enough time to get to the penthouse and back to the airport in enough time to catch his flight.
But fuck him if he wouldn’t try.
The ringing in his ear clicked before Corrado’s standard message came on for him to leave a message. Cussing under his breath, Alessio ripped the phone away, and hit the end call button. His calls hadn’t been going straight to voicemail, but rather, ringing through to it. Which meant Corrado didn’t have his phone shut off, at least.
He was just ignoring calls.
Including Alessio’s.
Great.
The one thing that Corrado was ridiculously good at which Alessio couldn’t stand? Wallowing.
“No phones on the job—hand it over to Cree, or leave it on my desk before you head out, all right?”
Alessio stiffened in front of the safe he had been opening in Dare’s office. Not that he had been avoiding the man since he arrived back at The League, but his flights and the shit he had to do didn’t allow him time to seek Dare out.
Dare hadn’t been in his office after Alessio came over from the Vegas penthouse he shared with Corrado, and so he figured the man was giving him some space to get his shit done before he headed out. Apparently, he had been wrong.
Nodding over his shoulder, Alessio muttered, “Yeah, I know. Just some last-minute shit.”
He tried dialing Corrado again, but once more, the call rang through to the voicemail. Jesus Christ, this is the hill you wanna die on, huh?
Corrado was a shit.
So stubborn.
“Les?”
“Yeah?”
He pulled documentation he needed from the safe. A file with a plain silver stripe across the front, color-coded to him so he knew which one was his. Inside, he would find identification to get him through customs regardless of which country he was traveling to. A whole set of IDs that would be destroyed once he was back on American soil, and the job was done just in case he attracted attention in Albania.
Not that he should do that.
It wasn’t the job.
He also pulled out a stack of cash—ten-thousand, nothing more, and nothing less. All in small, unmarked bills. He could take ten thousand in cash through customs, and they wouldn’t say shit about it. One dollar more, and they would confiscate it, and arrest him for attempting to smuggle money.
Because right, that’s what he would do.
Fun times.
“Are you listening at all?”
“No,” Alessio said.
Dare sighed. “Listen, I understand you’re still pissed at me and everything. I know I overstepped my bounds, Alessio. You don’t need to continue giving me the silent treatment as a way to punish me, okay?”
Standing straight, and closing the safe, Alessio kept a tight grip on that folder, and the stack of cash as he turned to face Dare in the doorway. “First, anger doesn’t work that way—I can be mad for as long as I fucking want, and you don’t get to decide when that changes. Not that it matters because I’m not pissed anymore, I’m just busy. I have a solid two hours to make it back and catch my flight.”