Page 55 of Obsessed by My Ex's Mafia Uncle

Chapter Nine

Robert

What’s a man to do when faced with something he’s spent years trying to find?

The question doesn’t come with an answer. It weaves, circling my mind, almost mocking, because for four years I’ve known exactly what I would do the moment I found her.

I built it up in my head in pieces. I imagined the first look, the first word, the way I’d take back what slipped through my hands that night.

And yet, none of it fits this moment.

She's standing in front of me. Alive, breathing, furious, trying to leave.

She's here.

“You just moved to Miami?” I ask.

She folds her arms across her chest, confusion breaking through the anger.

“What?”

“Daniel refused to give me your home address or last name,” I continue, my tone even, like this is just information being exchanged. “At least he did that one thing right.”

Her expression moves between disbelief and the residue of anger she’s trying to suppress.

I exhale slowly, not breaking eye contact.

“I offered to clear Daniel’s debt completely for that piece of information.”

“You did what?”

“I told him I’d wipe everything,” I continue. “Every last dollar and with no conditions.” I take a step closer. “He refused.”

Her lips part slightly, like she wants to say something but doesn’t know what to do with it yet.

“And if I had known he would refuse,” I add, softer now, “I wouldn’t have let you walk out that morning.”

“Why on God’s green Earth were you looking for me?” She holds my gaze.

“You look surprised.” I don't answer her question.

“Why?” She pushes, the word coming out strained, like she doesn’t actually want the answer.

I step closer again, catching a flicker in her alluring eyes.

“Why not?”

The space between us shrinks again, the air heated with desire like it never left, like it’s been waiting for us to return to it.

She doesn’t move.

I hold her gaze, unblinking, allowing the silence to weave between us instead of filling it.

Four years.

It should feel like time passed, but it doesn’t.

Standing here, looking at her, it feels like nothing changed direction at all. Like the space between then and now collapsed the second she walked into my office.