“Gone how?”
“Kev and Darren forced the girls’ into Siena’s care—not that she minded,” he added when Ginevra gave him a sharp look from the side. “But she has things to take care of with John, and starting their life, so I figured you would want the girls with you. The apartment is furnished, and ready for you to use.”
He leaned over and opened the glove compartment. There, he pulled out a manila envelope that looked to be two inches thick, or more. “Here—cash. It’ll take care of whatever else you and your sisters need for a time while we wait for Siena to settle out your brothers’ estates, which she has decided will be divided between you, and the girls.”
Ginevra swallowed hard, trying to take all that information in. “And how much is their estates worth?”
“A lot.”
Huh.
Did that mean she would go back to college? Buy a house? Could she pay for Greta’s college next year, or put Giulia into a private school? What did it mean?
Ginevra didn’t have the first clue, and she didn’t care to ask. She took the envelope, nodding as she said, “Thanks.”
“No worries. Least I can do.”
“No, you didn’t need to let me think I would have to marry you right until the last second, Andino.”
He made a noise under his breath, amused. “Everyone needed to believe the ploy. Even you, and I won’t apologize for it, either.”
“People aren’t pawns on a chessboard for you to move as you deem fit.”
“They are if it gives me what I want.”
Ginevra had the strangest urge to hit the man beside her because that might make her feel better if only for a second. “And what’s that, Andino? What you wanted, I mean.”
“A woman.”
His frank answered stunned her.
“A woman,” she echoed.
“And I got her,” Andino said, offering nothing else. “So, I care very little about what you or anyone else says about how I did this when I get to spend the rest of my life apologizing to her for the things I did ... and trust she is the only person in this world I will apologize to, and mean it. As for you, the girls will be brought over by Siena later, and then you are free to do whatever.”
Go back to normal.
That’s what she would do.
Make sure her sisters were able to resume their normal life before all of this happened. It would be hard without their mother, and nothing would ever be the same, but that’s what she planned on doing. And somehow, amid that, try to get back to the men she left behind in Toronto.
Speaking of which ...
“Has anyone tried to get in contact with you to speak with me?” she asked.
Andino passed her a glance. “I don’t understand.”
“From Toronto, I mean.” Ginevra didn’t want to out her relationship with Corrado and Alessio because that wasn’t anyone’s business, but she still had to ask. “Corrado, maybe, because he watched after me. Or ... Alessio?”
It took Andino a second.
Then, two.
He gave her a curious glance when he said, “I heard rumors about those two, but I didn’t know if they’re accurate. People say they’re together, but they share women, too. How true is that?”
Nope.
She wouldn’t do that.
Not with this man.
“Has anyone tried to contact me?”
Andino shook his head. “Anyone in Toronto has been quiet since you left. That’s all I can tell you.”
Why did that sound like a door closing? Like an end—an answer she didn’t want, but one she now had. What should she do with it?
28.
Corrado
It was almost strange how when Corrado needed something to relax him, or pull him out of the hell that was his mind, he often found himself back at a place that rarely allowed him those things in the past. The League, that was.
There was little about the complex that allowed Corrado happy memories. In fact, his training had been some of the worst months of his life. Demanding, intense, and often mind-breaking. Although, that had been the point. They had to break all the pieces of him to put him back together better.
Maybe that was why, now, his mind didn’t work the same way. He didn’t find normal things relaxing—not the shit other people liked to use to chill them out, anyway. Now, he needed the familiarity of a space that had humbled him in more ways than one, and gave him something he hadn’t known was possible in Alessio.
Love, that was.
Even if love wasn’t here now.
Corrado spent a few days at his family’s lodge in Quebec, hiding away from the world, focusing his attention on taking care of himself, and doing what he needed. He didn’t have a phone to answer, and he didn’t use the landline at the lodge to call out except once to let his father know where he was, if needed. He hadn’t stayed on the call long enough for his father to ask questions, and he informed no one else about his whereabouts, either.
Should anyone at The League need him, Dare could use Corrado’s tracker. His brothers had their own life and business to handle, so they didn’t need to worry about Corrado.
Alessio left—the fucking job.
Ginevra ...
Well, she made her choice.
Didn’t she?
Corrado was letting her make it.
Simple as that.
Except it wasn’t that simple.
The one thing he never experienced with Alessio in all their years together was heartbreak. Not because there hadn’t been opportunity or things that came up between them that might separate them. They always chose each other first, and everything else second.
Usually.
For the first time, Corrado learned about having his heart broken by someone he loved, and he realized that, no, he did not react well to it. In fact, he took it so badly that he wanted to hide away from the world.
That was the problem, though.
It wouldn’t be over.
He would not be okay.
And that’s why, when the trip to Quebec didn’t work, he made his way back to Vegas, to sleep in a familiar bed that still smelled like one of the people who still held a piece of his soul and heart in their hands. To walk familiar halls he once walked with Alessio; to focus on anything except the ache in his heart.
Not that it helped.
His mood became worse.
Hence, Cree inviting him for a sparring round in the ring that morning. Had Corrado been a smarter man—apparently, he wasn’t today—he would have refused the offer. Anyone with any brains understood sparring with Cree was pointless because he either beat the shit out of someone, or he nearly did so. Besides, this was him substituting one pain for another.
“Fuck,” he hissed, ducking back to miss a punch Cree threw his way. “If you don’t break one of my bones, that would be great.”
“Or get quicker.” Cree bounced on the balls of his feet as he said that, fists already up and ready to go with Corrado again. He carefully measured every single move he made, and never without an intentional impact when he fought. It made Cree one of the more difficult opponents in a match. “Besides, if you didn’t want this, you wouldn’t have gotten up here today, right?”
Well, he had a point.
Not that Corrado would admit it.