Leroy Kingston.
He is dangerous. He is ruthless and he craves revenge.
As a mafia boss, he's used to simply taking lives out without even blinking. Why didn't it work with Katrina? Was it the fear in those sky-blue eyes that made him start thinkin...
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Two days go by and I don't see Leroy again.
And I can't shake the feeling that he's avoiding me, even though I keep reminding myself that Leroy is not that kind of man.
After our kiss on the yacht, which was abruptly interrupted by the screaming children running towards us, we didn't get to talk because afterward we sat down with the others and celebrated William's birthday.
He did not come to bed that night.
All I saw at his uncle's house was Alexander pulling him aside with a serious expression. Since then I've only seen him at dinner, where he gives his attention to Danny, of course, because he spends every spare second with him, which I understand and think is wonderful, but maybe...
Well, maybe a glance in my direction? Or a little smile...
"Hey, Rina," I am suddenly pulled out of my thoughts. My gaze falls on Franca, who is being impatiently dragged away by Alexander's daughters. I keep my hands in the dough and smile at her in greeting. "Leroy's calling for you, he's in the attic - yes, my God, kids, it's okay, I'm coming! See you later, Rina."
And with those words, she moves laughing on. Perplexed, I take my hands out of the dough and wash them before slowly walking up the stairs. When did Leroy arrive and what exactly is he doing in the attic?
Confusion as well as joy flood my body. I can finally see him and talk to him! Once upstairs, I walk down the long hallway to the open door, in direct view of Leroy.
"You called for me?"
I'm still standing behind the open door, unsure if I should go further into the room I haven't even seen before. I didn't realize that everything in the attic was so clean and beautiful.
The walls are in beautiful sandy colors, with a fireplace in the corner, a TV on the right, and two big sofas in the middle. An armchair is right next to it, where Leroy sits.
In front of him is a board game, at which he stares intently.
"Yes, I have. Come in," his voice rings out and I blink before slowly walking toward him.
Feeling tense because of his silence, I shift my weight from one leg to the other until he lifts his gaze and looks at me with clear eyes. I force myself to smile a little to lighten the situation. He doesn't return it but nods toward the sofa behind me.
"Sit down and play a game with me."
I slowly lower my eyes to the board game and frown.
Chess.
He wants me to play chess with him?
He apparently read the question from my eyes, because now he smiles a little, even though it is anything but a nice smile, but I stopped blaming him for that a long time ago.
