Page 44 of His Cruel Exception

“I made it abundantly clear to the men they sent to us that if they came back, they'd lose their lives,” Giovanni Di Lauro adds.

The other men offer similar accounts, with several confirming that the Giulianis have attempted to approach their organizations and others stating that they've already warned their people against entertaining any offers. Father allows everyone to finish before turning the discussion to our preparations, and we spend the remainder of the meeting reviewing the weapons available to each family, their storage locations, and the arrangements already in place to keep our supplies secure.

By the time we've covered the last of the reports, my champagne has gone untouched for nearly an hour, and I'm growing tired of sitting in the same chair. Father looks around the room once more, makes certain nobody has anything further to add, and brings the meeting to a close. The other family heads rise and begin making their farewells, exchanging a few quiet words with my father before heading toward the entrance.

Once the last of them has left and only the Scaleras remain in the living room, Father sits and turns his attention back to us.

“Carmela has some news she wants to share with us,” Uncle Domenico announces.

Aunt Carmela sets her glass on the table and glances around the room. “I'm getting remarried.”

The room erupts in congratulations, with Father rising to embrace her while my uncles immediately begin demanding to know who the man is and why they're only hearing about him now. Carmine lets out a whistle while Raffaele raises his glass, and Marco claps.

Beside me, Enzo groans and rolls his eyes, concealing his smile behind his drink. He's happy for her, even if he'd rather choke than admit it in front of everyone. When his father died, Enzo spent years trying to find his mother another husband. He went as far as introducing her to any presentable man unfortunate enough to cross his path. He couldn't stand the thought of her being lonely, although she never showed the slightest interest in remarrying. Her marriage had been a happy one, and she always insisted she was perfectly content with the family she already had.

For her to have changed her mind now, the man must be someone special.

I rise and make my way over to her, bending to embrace her as she reaches up and wraps her arms around my shoulders.

“When are we meeting the lucky man?” I ask.

“He's currently out of the country, but he should be back in time for Gaetano's birthday party.”

We stay for dinner with our parents, and the conversation remains lighter now that the business of the evening is finished. Aunt Carmela refuses to give away much more about her fiancé, despite Enzo's repeated attempts to get a name out of her, and by the time we leave, Enzo has threatened to run a background check on every unmarried man she's spoken to in the past year.

We separate at the entrance, each of us heading toward our respective cars. I answer a few messages and review the schedule for the following morning on the drive back home, but my attention keeps returning to Alexander, the expression on his face, and the way his words had sounded strained.

Davide drops me off at the entrance, and I head upstairs, loosening my tie as I walk through the penthouse. It's late and Alexander should be in bed, so I try to make minimal noise as I approach his room, not wanting to wake him if he's already asleep.

I open the door and step inside. The bedside lamp is on, casting a warm glow across the neatly made bed, but Alexander isn't there. His slippers are beside the nightstand, and the bathroom light is spilling through the partially open door, so I cross the room and push it open.

The bathroom is empty. I look at the dry sink and the towels hanging undisturbed on their rack, before taking my phone from my pocket and opening the location app.

The little marker shows that Alexander is at his apartment in Brownsville.

I check our message thread, scrolling past our earlier conversation, but there's nothing new from him. No explanation, no request to go home, not even a fucking message to tell me he's leaving.

I didn't tell him he could leave, so why the fuck isn't he here?

As I return to the bedroom, I notice a small Cartier box sitting near the edge of the mattress and I pick it up, lifting the lid to find a Santos-Dumont resting inside. I run my thumb along the edge of the box before closing it. I set the box back on the bed, and that's when I see the Audi key placed on top of a folded piece of paper.

I pick up the note and unfold it.

Thank you for the car, Antonio. But I cannot accept it. I’m sorry. I got you the watch because I know you like the brand. Can you please give me some time to myself? I will text you soon.

Alexander.

I read it once, then again, my grip tightening on the paper until the edges begin to crease.

He returned the fucking car.

After everything I told him in the garage, after I made it perfectly clear that there was nothing excessive about what I chose to give him.

And now he wants time to himself.

I stare at those words, my teeth clenched so tightly that my jaw begins to ache. I crush the note in my fist and storm out of the room, crossing the penthouse with long strides. Davide is standing in the foyer when I reach it, and he immediately straightens at the sight of me, falling into step behind me as I pass.

“Go get him,” I bark, not bothering to slow down. “I don't care if he wants to come or not. Pick him up, kicking and screaming, and bring him to the entrance of the woods behind The Bloodrot.”