CHAPTER EIGHTY

CHAPTER EIGHTY
ELENA

Waking up in Alexander's arms was the highlight of my day.
I made use of this moment to gaze at his eyes—his sleeping eyes seemed more youthful, untarnished by family duties and secrets.

"I can sense your gaze upon me," he whispered, without opening his eyes.

"I couldn't resist. You do get really handsome in morning light." I ran my finger along the line of his jaw. "Good bone structure. Nice features."

"Am I being judged like a statue?"

"It's a very nice property. I am considering investing for the long term."

Alexander's eyes opened, and my heart skipped a beat as I gazed at his smile.
"So, what do you think, Miss Rossi?"

"Well, the location is very nice. The features are excellent. The owner himself is handsome, but he's got family issues." I paused to consider. "I'll put in a bid."

"What kind of offer?"

"The one that holds me here forever, never to leave"

"Sold," Alexander said, holding me tightly in a hug, kissing my forehead.
"We don't need to discuss it."

"You are not a good businessman. You would have been wiser if you had asked for more."

"Certain matters are extremely crucial," he said matter-of-factly, and the sincerity in his voice warmed me up.

"Be careful, Moretti. If you continue speaking this way, I'll begin to think you care about me."

"Perhaps I do."

Alexander stood up and made a move for the tiny coffee section inside his room. I gazed at him in awe at how he looked in his sleep pants, muscles evident beneath his suntanned skin.

"Coffee?" he inquired, starting to operate his special espresso machine.

"You know me pretty well." I lounged in his bed.
"I'm getting accustomed to this, you know.
Next thing you know, I'll be having breakfast in bed and fresh flowers daily."

"Done."

"I was joking!"

"I wasn't." Alexander brought me a well-prepared cup—cream, not sugar, precisely how I like it. "I want to be kind to you."

"This is dangerous," I told him, gladly receiving the cup. "If you are so nice to me here, I'll never be able to leave this penthouse."

"That's my intention."

"Rich people have tricks, I see." I sipped my coffee then sighed in bliss. "So, what do we do this morning until your dad arrives to scare me?"

His expression changed slightly when I mentioned his dad, so I went ahead to touch his arm.

"Hey. We've discussed this. Plus, no bad mood during coffee."

"You're right. Breakfast? A real one, not coffee and whatever the chefs make it a point to provide."

"Going to show off your culinary skills once more, I see?" I smiled. "I must confess, I'm growing accustomed to this excellent service."

"You deserve five-star treatment."

"You are unbelievable, Mr. Moretti."
I sat at my favorite kitchen counter stool and observed Alexander at work. He prepared food with the same elegance he applied to every other aspect of his life, and I marveled at how this seemed so homey. Here was a leading businessman from Chicago cooking me breakfast in a pretty kitchen, dressed in nothing more than a t-shirt and jeans.

"What are you thinking about?" asked Alexander, having realized I was staring.

"Every day, my life becomes more strange. I ate ramen noodles for dinner a few months ago, fretting about how I would pay my rent. Now I'm here, having a billionaire prepare eggs Benedict from scratch for me."

"Regrets?"

"I regret not having spilled champagne on you sooner."

Alexander chuckled, and it was a joyful sound. "It was your best mistake ever."

"I'm not certain it was a mistake. I think it was meant to occur."

"You believe in fate?"

"I do believe in lucky coincidences that occur just for me," I replied. "Like running into handsome and wealthy men at art openings, for instance."

"You mean handsome billionaires in complicated family situations?"

I slipped from my stool and stood at his back, wrapping my arms about his waist. "Yeah, those ones in particular. They are far more interesting."

Alexander leaned back against me, and I kissed him lightly on his back. "Do you know how much I enjoy this?"

"Because I am the only one who is working while you simply chat?"

"Because it feels natural. Normal not like being dull, but normal like this is exactly how we're meant to be. It feels like this is how things are meant to be."

Alexander turned to face me, placing his hands firmly against my hips. "Shouldn't it?"

"Ridiculously right. Suspiciously right. Like the universe is playing some elaborate joke on us"

"If that's true, I am not laughing."

"Seriously? Even the humor of a poor artist having a thing for a billionaire with mob ties?"

"Not when this poor artist became the best thing to ever happen to me."

I stood on my tiptoes to kiss him, "You are being very romantic, Alexander. If you keep this up, I may begin to think that you truly like me."

"Like you?"

"Okay. Love. That you might really love me."

"Might?" Alexander arched his eyebrow in affected innocence. "After last night with my dramatic display of how I feel?"

"I remember enjoying your demonstration greatly when you did it," I said, smiling while recalling it. "Very...detailed."

"I like being detailed."

"I've noticed."

We were about to kiss when Alexander's phone rang. He became annoyed.

"Ignore it," I whispered close to his lips.

"I wish to, but..." The telephone rang once more, and Alexander groaned as he picked it up. "It might be something vital."

It was his father, and I could hear his deep voice at the other end, though I didn't make out any words. Alexander's responses were brief—"Yes," "I understand," "Of course."

I took a guess when he was done. "Plans changed?"

"He's postponing it until this evening. Something unexpected came up that requires his direct attention."

"Why would a partially retired crime lord have any business at eight in the morning?"

"I don't want to think about it," Alexander replied, holding me close once more. "But that leaves us with the whole day to ourselves."

"Terrifying words. What are you thinking?"

"Finishing up breakfast. Perhaps a walk. Definitely more of whatever it was we were doing prior to this call."

"I like this plan. Very thorough agenda."

It was midday, and we were feeling at home when a buzzing noise from the building's intercom sounded.
Alexander frowned and glanced at the clock.

"Expecting someone?" I asked.

"No. Security knows not to allow anyone to come up without calling first."

Alexander stood up to answer the intercom, and I walked behind him, uneasy.

"Yes?"

"Mr. Moretti, a package arrived for Miss Rossi. It has no return address, but it indicates that it is urgent."

We exchanged surprised glances.

"A package?" I asked. "Nobody even knows I'm living here."

Alexander's brow furrowed in concern as he pushed the intercom button. "Let security scan it, then bring it up."

I kept thinking as we waited.

"Who would mail me something here, Alexander?"

"I don't know," he replied in a serious tone. "But we'll know shortly."