Last Olive Bistro ✓

Chapter 34: New Beginning

My mind jumped from one speculation over another about what Jacob could have meant. The idea that he might have killed Angela was one of them—the worst one—but I wouldn't allow myself to believe it because I thought I knew him. I wanted to keep knowing him as the man he was now, after his life in a mafia family. He wasn't that kind of a hardened person anymore.

"Your revenge was to get her fired so that she couldn't bother me anymore?" I asked, acting impartial as if I had no crazy theories swarming around my brain like a thousand pissed off wasps.

"In a way, yes. But there's much more to it than what you see on the surface, Chloe."

"Then tell me," I practically begged.

He placed his almost-empty martini glass on a side table and adjusted into a comfortable position that faced me directly. "I couldn't allow Angela to hurt someone else I care about. She was the cause of my wife's murder."

"You said your wife died of a stroke," I said, swallowing, and not letting on that I knew anything further.

He shook his head. "I couldn't tell you the truth at the time, so please forgive me; I'm telling you now. I've been scared to reveal too much to you because, honestly, I haven't been completely sure you'd stick around if you knew."

I placed my glass next to his and shifted my body closer to him. I laced my fingers in his and rested our hands between us. "I'm sticking around," I said.

He gave me a half-hearted smile, but it faded and he continued, "I had to do a lot of things I can never forgive myself for, just because I had to prove my place in that family."

"I figured, I mean..." I answered in a cool tone that let him know I didn't think any less of him, but that it was still not something to be taken lightly.

"Me and my guys whacked Angela's fiancé and we were supposed to get her too. I dodged that part; I couldn't order the murder of a woman, even if she was next in line. But when you're given an order, you have to follow through or you face fatal consequences."

I remained silent as he laid out the truth piece by piece, but gently rubbed my thumbs across his hands for the comfort of the both of us.

"My boss had my wife murdered for that, but I was given a second chance—a revised order that required me to personally kill Angela myself."

His jaw tightened as he breathed deep through his nose, and I could practically see the pain behind his dark eyes. I felt it emanating from his core.

"I'm so sorry, Jacob," I said, touching the side of his face.

"I ran her out of Philly and told my boss that her body would never be found. He was never the wiser; the son of a bitch was gunned down five months later anyway. The new boss was too occupied with the FBI and IRS on his ass."

I felt great empathy for this man who had experienced more than any human ever should. He lived a hard life and wore the emotional battle scars as proof. His hands squeezed around mine but he let go when he quickly realized his tension was escalating.

"What happened to her this time?" I asked, cautious while still inquisitive of whatever he'd done.

His demeanor perked up in the slightest fraction of a second that swept across his face. He cleared his throat and hopped off the couch. My eyes followed him as he reached into a briefcase atop the kitchen island and returned to my side. He held a manila envelope on his lap.

"So, about that," he said. "I bought the restaurant."

My breath stopped and I couldn't comprehend whatever he just said. My body catapulted into a flurry all at once as the realization swept over me, and I mustered up the effort to reply, "Why on Earth did you do that?" Obviously I knew why, in the big picture sense, but at that moment it felt like an even more extreme option than just dumping her body in the Hudson and moving on with life.

Jacob laughed with pride and opened the envelope, sliding out a stapled pack of papers. He handed it to me. "Here, look."

It was a Deed for the property that indicated the grantees as Jacob Lewitt and Chloe Lovric. I read the line three times before my mouth popped open. My stomach contorted into tight knots, only of which could be undone by Popeye after three cans of spinach.

"My name's on this," I said in disbelief.

He gently took the papers from me and tossed them on the table. "I know, Chloe. I bought it for you."

I didn't know what to think; all that washed over me was shock and an instant boulder of responsibility which landed on my back.

"It will be run under my Imperia Cucina company, which is why we own it together, but really, it's all for you," he said. "We'll give it a full renovation, from the décor to the entire menu—you make the decisions. We've already begun by getting Angela out."

"But why?" I questioned, still partially breathless and unable to piece all the information together into coherence. "Why would you do this for me?"

He took a minute and genuinely looked into my eyes the way one would admire a prominent work of art, and relate to it on some kind of grand, emotional level. His hand softly cupped the side of my face and his thumb caressed my cheek.

"I don't want you to have to worry about anything in your life, Chloe. You mean the most to me than anyone has in a very long time, and I felt this was something I wanted to do for you," he said with a hopeful grin. "This is the only thing I knew I could give you so that you could have something of your own."

I was still speechless for a minute and placed my hand over his on my face. I felt a lump form in my throat as the reality of it began to sink in.

"I'm so shocked," I finally admitted, laughing. "Thank you for this." We embraced tightly and stayed like that to let the moment simmer. The world disappeared and opened up at the same time—it was a transition for us together—a new beginning.

"Really? I was nervous for days over this," he chuckled.

"I love it, Jacob. Really."

His affectionate smile brightened his face and he leaned in to kiss me. I confidently slid my tongue over his bottom lip, which made him laugh into the kiss. He carefully separated and murmured, "Before that, I have something else for you."

I laughed, "More? What else could you possibly add to this?" Everything felt like a dream—like being in a world that wasn't my real life because good things rarely happened to me. Now they were, and I knew it would take substantial time for me to get used to everything, especially the heavy obligations of a business.

He returned to the kitchen island and brought back a rectangular box that I was familiar with.

"You forgot this in Connecticut," he said, offering it over.

I accepted the diamond necklace back and gestured for him to sit beside me again. He did and was just as close as he was before. He spun a lock of my hair around his finger, twisting it loosely and letting it go, over and over.

"So, now we're business partners?" I asked, smirking.

"If that's all you want to be, I respect that," he replied in a weighted tone, letting another twisted section of my hair fall, but not going after it again.

I playfully bumped his arm and he broke his fake seriousness. "You know you're way more than that to me," I said.

"Really? How much more?"

I grinned at his challenging question, but he went back into his tongue-in-cheek attitude, although he didn't expect me to fall for it. "Want me to show you?"

He half-smirked and kissed me again, this time with a fierce passion. We celebrated our new journey together throughout the night, and for the first time ever I wasn't at all concerned about getting enough sleep or waking up on time to get to work. I now owned the place.