Page 67 of Contract of a Billionaire

Truthfully, I didn’t give a shit about Branka’s father or his funeral. But I wanted to be there for my best friend.

The moment I stepped out of the cab, I sensed Alessio's eyes on me. I forced myself not to look, focused on my son and tried to slow down my wild heartbeat. Four years ago, I swore I’d never see him again.

But the man kept visiting my dreams. And now I saw him in my son’s face.

All I had to do was take a look at my son and realize that all the pain was worth it. It gave me the most beautiful human being in the world. My son. For that alone, I’d endure a hundred humiliations and a hundred heartbreaks.

It only made me stronger. And I could totally resist Alessio Russo. I was older and wiser now. I knew what he was and the pain that came along with him.

I watched my parents walk to their car with my son between them. I knew Kol would turn his head one more time to ensure I was still here. And he did, as soon as they got to Grandpa’s car. He stopped and glanced over his shoulder. My chest warmed and I waved, smiling reassuringly. He was the spitting image of his father, minus that coal black hair and the little specks of green in his eyes.

But he was mine. All mine. Alessio missed his chance.

“He’s something,” Branka murmured softly.

Yes, he is. My best treasure.

One last wave as my dad drove away and I turned to Branka. “How are you holding up?”

She hugged me again, and I returned it. “Now that you’re here, great. I missed you.”

I tilted my head. “It’s only been a week,” I pointed out.

The moment her father was pronounced dead, by mysterious circumstances, Alessio sent her a text and she flew out while I finished the photoshoot. The latest assignment took us to Central Africa, and we’d been there for the past three months. The wildlife edition. We’d had tons of fun with it - both forNational Geographicand our blog edition.

It had been a dream come true, although with little Kol getting older by the day, it was time to think about a more permanent location to raise my son. With the old Russo gone, Montréal was now a possibility. If only Alessio wasn’t here.

“You should go back to your spot, Branka,” I urged her softly. “I’ll wait for you here.”

“I don’t want to,” she complained. But she knew it was the right thing to do. “Come with me.”

Now that would be the irony. To stand over the grave of the man that came after me and tried to kill my son. I wanted to dance over the fucker’s grave, not keep a straight face.

“I’ll wait for you here,” I told her firmly, smiling encouragingly, then nudging her forward.

I watched Branka take her place with her brother. And just like a magnet, my eyes drifted to his face. No amount of preparation would ever be enough to get used to Alessio Russo.

Beautiful, yet hard. Ruthless. Lethal.

Tell someone who fucking cares.The last words he had spoken to me. The words that changed it all. I still heard them in the whispers of the wind. Sometimes in the heat of a blazing sun. The words left a permanent mark in my heart and my mind.

Maybe it was the best case scenario for our ending because all of the stories I’d read about him over the last four years painted him in dark colors. I didn’t think they were exaggerating either. The criminal of Montréal who ran the underworld alongside Cassio and Luca King, Nico Morrelli, Raphael Santos, and other mobsters.

The only good trait - they were all against human trafficking.

The only problem around that man was my traitorous body that still reacted to the man who shredded my heart to pieces. A shiver ran down my spine. The man that set my sexual expectations so high, it was impossible for anyone to reach them. It left me to endure a dry spell for the past four years.

So many long and lonely nights.

My mind knew he was bad for me. He left me in hell after those words, but my body didn’t care. It was addicted to Alessandro - his touch, his darkness and his mouth. If there was a cure to this damning attraction, I would take it. No questions asked.

Alessio’s eyes shifted from the person he was speaking to and our gazes locked. His jaw tightened and his unreadable eyes bore into me. My stupid, silly heart stuttered in my chest.

He was so damn beautiful and raw, sending molten lava through my veins.

But he wasn’t mine. He was never mine. Not really.

I was smarter now. I had my son to think about.