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Oh, hell on a cracker, make it stop.

Finally, I admit defeat, and because I am too damn polite for my own good, I stand there and await his mouth on mine. I wrinkle my nose as he kisses me like a 6thgrader. Closed mouth, lasting seconds, and then he pulls away, looking mighty pleased with himself. I fight the urge to wipe my mouth, and instead, I smile back and say, “Thank you.”

Thank you? Yeah, good one, Gabriella.

Chapter Five

Brad

Saturday nights, like most clubs in New York City are the busiest nights and The Boardroom is no exception. We are at full capacity, and security has started turning people away.

I’m behind the VIP bar helping Kate, our bar manager, as her team prepare for opening, before I head to my meeting. I know they will have things running smoothly, which is exactly what we need now that Jack’s nights are spent at home with his fiancée, Ria, and Harry is still in London.

“Kate, I’ll drop by before closing,” I yell over the music and point toward the back door to stress my point.

‘No problem. Catch you later. Have fun,” she shouts back with a wave. Pushing through the staff entrance door, I pull my phone and clock the time: 7.30 pm… right on time. I scroll my contacts and hit Facetime on the same name I do every night without fail.

The ringing tone echoes through the hall as I make my way towards my office. Just as I reach the door, a little voice filters through the speaker on my iPhone.

“Hey, Uncle Marco.” I smile at my five-year-old nephew and instantly feel a little more at ease. He is one of the few people who call me by my real name. A name that is attached to parts of my life I’d like to bury and forget, but Luca is one of the only good things that’s attached to that name.

“Hey, bud, how’s your day been?” I say, opening the door to my office and stepping inside. “Good. Mommy took me to the park and for ice cream, and then she got me the Legos I wanted.” He beams through the phone.

“She did, huh?” I say with excitement in my voice.

“Yeah, wanna see?”

“Sure.” He disappears from the screen and I relax back into my leather office chair and balance my phone on the stand I keep on my desk.

He returns holding a box almost as big as him.

“Look, see, see, it’s the one with the plane.”

“I see. You are very lucky, bud. Did you thank your mom?”

“Uh huh,” he mutters, still looking at his box, his big brown eyes wide and excited, and his mop of dark hair framing his angelic face, looking every bit the Italian boy he is. When my sister told me she was pregnant at eighteen and the father was less than interested, I stepped in as much as I could. Luca needed a male figure in his life, and my sister needed support. With our dad and older brother, Matteo, in prison, and my younger brother, Dario, in the military, it left me and our mom to help Alessia. Luca is a good kid, and my sister is someone who just got a little lost in life. When our dad and brother went down for a drug exchange gone wrong, she was barely a teen, then I left for the Marines and her life spiraled. I hold a lot of guilt for leaving, but it was the military or end up the same way as mydad and brother. The least I can do for Alessia is step up and be some kind of male figure in Luca’s life and help guide him so he doesn’t end up like any of us Russo kids.

“So, now you’ve got the plane, what am I gonna get you for your birthday, bud?” I ask.

“Uh, I don’t know. Maybe the rocket, or the truck, or the boat.”

I chuckle. “How about you write a birthday wish list and you can send it to me?”

He nods excitedly. “Are you ready for bed? You brushed your teeth and listened to your mom?” I ask, knowing he’s been playing my sister up. I missed a lot of his first year as I was still in the military, so I try and see him as much as I can, and I video call him every night without fail to say goodnight and check in on my sister.

“Can I speak to your mom?”

“Mom, Uncle Marco wants to talk to you.” He hollers so loudly, I’m pretty sure they heard him upstairs in the club.

My sister comes into view. Jet black hair just like mine, and the same whiskey-colored eyes.

“Hey, you good?” my sister asks as she looks into the camera, and it's then I notice how red her eyes look and the paleness of her skin.

“Yeah, I’m good, are you? You look tired, sis.”

She yawns. “Yeah, I’m okay. Luca has been up since 5 am, and it’s just been a busy day. Once he’s in bed, I’m on the couch curled up with a glass of wine andSex and the City.”

Most twenty-four-year-olds would be out partying or seeing friends. My sister is tucking in her son and spending another lonely night in her apartment, and it hurts my heart a little that she had to grow up far too quickly. But I’m so damn proud of her. She’s an amazing mom, and everything she does is for Luca.