His Kryptonite

Chapter 30

Laila's POV

The next day, I wake up to a typical morning scene, greeted by the aroma of breakfast wafting from the kitchen. Taking charge of all the other meals at home has become my routine, but breakfast has always slipped through my fingers. Michael, that early riser, hits the gym, showers, catches up on the news, and even whips up breakfast before I can even blink my eyes open. Honestly, his morning hustle makes me feel like a total slacker every day.

After our last conversation, there was an unsettling silence between us throughout the night. I managed to arrange for someone to give me a ride home, and as soon as my head hit the pillow, I crashed out, so hard that I didn't even notice when Michael came home.

I spent a hell of a lot of time mulling over the entire situation, and I've come to a resolute decision: it's time to move forward. At this point, there isn't much I can do, especially after talking to Lucas yesterday.

In just six days, Michael and I are set to tie the knot, and I can't walk down that aisle with any lingering resentment. So, I've made up my mind to push myself. Michael gave up his ties to the Eastside and cut off connections with the city's second most powerful crime family, all for me. Maybe it's worth sacrificing my own family in return; it's hard to say. I can't change my father's closed-off mind if he refuses to even talk to me. But what I can do is embrace the opportunity to build a new life with Michael.

I make my way to the kitchen and greet him with a simple "Morning."

"Morning, sleepy head," he replies, sliding a plate my way. I can't help but smirk secretly at the affectionate nickname he has for me.

"About last night, I've decided to—"

"You need to get ready, we're leaving soon," he interrupts abruptly, darting out of the kitchen.

I watch him vanish down the hallway, a puzzled expression on my face. "I was talking, but okay..." I mutter to myself, disappointed that I didn't get to finish what I wanted to say. Just when I thought we were on the brink of making peace.

I prepare myself, and before long, Michael and I are on our way out of the penthouse, stepping into his black Cadillac Escalade. I can already predict our destination: either La Dolce Vita or Reggiano's. It's always one or the other this early in the day.

I want to seize this opportunity to share my newfound resolution with Michael, but the music blasts loudly from the speakers, catching me off guard. Strangely enough, it's a lineup of songs that I absolutely adore: "Angel of the Morning" by Juice Newton, "Alone" by Heart, "Believe" by Cher, "Total Eclipse of The Heart" by Bonnie Tyler, "Silver Springs" by Fleetwood Mac, and "Wonderful Tonight" by Eric Clapton.

The selection of songs seems suspiciously aligned with my own "favorite songs" playlist on my phone. I even start to wonder if my Bluetooth is somehow connected. Unable to resist, I find myself belting out the lyrics and grooving to the music. It would be a crime not to.

The music is such a distraction that I fail to realize our whereabouts until I catch sight of this unmistakable big fountain to my left. Gasping, I quickly remove my sunglasses and perch them atop my head.

We're in my parents' neighborhood. My heart starts racing, and I steal a glance at Michael, a thousand thoughts swirling in my mind. Is he bringing me home? And if so, for what the hell reason? What on earth is happening?

Stunned into silence, I can't manage to utter a single question. Before I know it, Michael rolls down his window, positioning the car in front of the gates leading to my home. Usually, those gates open quick, especially for visitors like Michael Rizzuto, but this time, there's a slight delay. I know all too well it's likely because of Papà. Nevertheless, the gates eventually swing open, granting Michael passage.