Page 23 of Plus-Size Bratva Possession (Vadim Bratva #12)

The next morning, I woke up in Gastone’s bed. I was blissfully still lost in thoughts of last night, my body aching pleasantly from our activities . But once I came around to being more alert, my mind shifted and conspired, raced with thoughts about the conversation we'd promised to have today.

Up until that moment, I had no proof. Just a belief that my family was innocent. Until Federico got back to me with real, I knew I didn’t have a standing chance of proving my family’s innocence.

I stepped out of bed and padded through the house. It was empty. Silent. Gastone had already left for the day, so I took my sweet time showering and made myself a nice breakfast. I was just finishing up when my phone rang. I picked up instantly when I saw it was Federico calling.

“Elena,” he said urgently, without even a hello. “I need to tell you something, and you need to be alone when I do. Are you?”

I quickly sat straighter. “Yes. He's already gone. What's up?”

“I've found something.” He paused, and I could hear paper rustling. “I tracked down that journalist who wrote the article about Adriana’s killing—the one that implicated our family.”

My fingers tightened around the phone. It was happening. We had information. I couldn’t believe it. We could finally put this chapter to rest. “And?”

“Well. Turns out that he's dead, Elena. His mother found him murdered in his apartment the very day after the article was published.”

I screeched. “ What ?”

“Yeah. He was shot in the head. It’s suspicious, isn’t it?

So, I started digging. I talked to my contacts in the media.

These guys, they know everything. It turns out he was fired the very same day that the article came out because his editor realized he had no proof of what he had insinuated against us.

He just went ahead and printed an accusation against us by not sending his story through the editors. ”

I gasped. “Why would he do that?”

“That’s what we were wondering. Something must have happened to make him risk his entire career.

So, we looked into it and found out he had been paid.

Someone was actively trying to point the finger at us.

” His voice hardened. “Elena, like I told you earlier, we didn't kill Adriana. When I discovered all this, I went to Gio. He was shocked. Gastone thought so and confirmed it himself that we never even looked in Adriana’s direction. She was never, could never have been, a target. He had no idea Gastone was even with someone at that time.”

“Then who did it?” I whispered, knowing that at last, we could find the culprit. I, too, wanted justice for Adriana. Even though I’d never met her, but she and their unborn child never deserved that cruel fate.

“I've put everything I found in an envelope and sent it over this morning. Did you check your mail?”

“No,” I shook my head. “Just give me the short version, please,” I said, already walking over to look for the mail.

“The short version? Adriana was having an affair, and we believe her lover killed her.”

My blood ran cold, and I paused, finding it unable to move. “What?”

“I'm sorry, Elena. I know that's not what you wanted to hear.

But the truth is, Adriana was pregnant, but the baby wasn't Gastone's.

The police investigated her death, but the man they suspected, her ex-lover, went into hiding.

I got all the reports from an insider at the station.

There are doctor's notes in the police file where she listed a different man as the father.

And when he found out she wasn't going to leave Gastone for him—apparently, she liked the lifestyle too much—he killed her and made sure we'd take the blame.”

My free hand pressed against my mouth, stifling a gasp. “Gastone doesn’t know.”

“He doesn’t,” said Federico, and I heard sadness in his voice.

“So what then? They never found him?” I asked, after a moment’s silence.

“My contact says the police almost immediately dropped the investigation into us because there was zero evidence. They know who did it, but could never find him. Gastone was never keen on talking to the cops because by then the damage was done. Gastone was already convinced it was us. So, he never found out, and the cops got busy with active leads on other cases.”

I fought to keep my breathing even. “Federico, this will destroy him.”

“I know. But he deserves the truth, Elena. Go through the envelope I sent. What you do with it... That's up to you.”

The call ended, and I stood there frozen, my mind spinning with what I'd just learned. Gastone had built his entire vendetta against my family around avenging Adriana and their unborn child. What would happen when he discovered it had all been a lie?

What would happen when he discovered she was having an affair? That the child he had been mourning wasn’t even his?

The dread clung to me, squeezed at my throat, but I needed to see the facts for myself. Maybe… Federico was wrong. About the affair, I certainly hoped so.

I went to the mail basket in the foyer and hunted through it. Most were addressed to Gastone, but one stood out. A manila with the word “EVIDENCE” written across the front in Federico's bold handwriting. I tore it open right there, unable to wait another second.

And there it was. Everything. There were copies of all the police reports, verifying what Federico told me.

There were witness statements by friends and acquaintances placing Adriana with another man repeatedly in the months before her death.

There were medical records with her lover’s name all over it: Ricardo.

There were printouts of the journalist’s bank accounts, showing large deposits made by Adriana’s lover.

And finally, I saw the most damning photo of all. It was a grainy, but clear enough, CCTV footage screenshot of a clearly pregnant Adriana, with another man outside a hotel. She was kissing him.

I sank down onto the marble floor in complete and utter shock.

I put all the evidence back into the manila envelope. I knew I needed to tell him, but if I did, he would be shattered. By telling him, I risked losing this version of Gastone. The loyal, trusting, loving man I’d come to know.

And for what? So he'd know the woman he'd loved had cheated on him? That the child wasn't his? That he'd wasted years hating my family for nothing?

But if I didn't tell him, what kind of person did that make me? The lie would always be between us; he would always hate my family.

I needed to protect both sides, but didn’t know how.

“Fuck,” I whispered as I walked to my room, the envelope clutched in my hand. I couldn’t decide what to do. I knew I had to tell him sooner or later, but I needed to know what state of mind he was in.

I couldn’t risk him seeing the envelope before I knew when the time was right, if he could shoulder this terrible news. On an impulse, I shoved the envelope into my bedside drawer. He’d never look there. Just for now, I told myself. Just until I figured out what to do.

I knew what I needed to do next. I needed to see him. To look into his eyes before I decided what to do. I needed to know if today was a good day to shift the earth beneath his feet.

***

An hour later, I stood outside Gastone's office, my heart hurting from how hard it raced. I hadn't called ahead to tell him I was coming. I needed to see him as he was when he thought I wasn't watching.

The receptionist recognized me and smiled. “Mrs. Ajello! What a pleasant surprise. He's in a meeting, but I'm sure he won't mind if I let him know you're here.”

“No, please,” I said quickly. “I'd like to surprise him. Is that okay?”

She nodded with a smile. “Of course. You know where his office is.”

I walked to his office and stood outside, hearing voices from within. I knew I shouldn’t have, but I leaned closer, trying to get a listen. If he was having a bad day, if he was…and then, I stiffened when I heard what sounded like a woman's tearful thank you.

I stopped, stepped back to take cover behind a large potted plant, and just then, his office door opened. A middle-aged woman stepped out with red eyes. In her hand, she clutched a tissue and repeatedly wiped her eyes. Gastone followed right behind with his hand on her shoulder, his back to me.

“I told you, Maria, take as much time as you need. Your son is what matters now. The job will be here when you're ready to come back, and I’ll make sure you remain on the payroll. If there’s anything else you need, just ask.”

“Thank you, Mr. Ajello,” she said, her voice cracking with emotion. “The treatment is so expensive, and with my husband losing his job—”

“Don't worry about that. I'll arrange for all the medical bills to be covered.” He squeezed her shoulder gently. “Just take care of your boy. That's an order.”

She nodded, unable to speak through her tears, and hurried toward the elevator.

Gastone watched her go, and I saw him, my heart breaking for this unbelievably kind, compassionate man. The man I never thought he could be, when I was festering with anger over how he took me. At that moment, I realized how wrong I’d been about him the whole time.

He was only trying to do his best, and despite the rage he held for my brothers, he never took it out on me.

Gastone turned around to head back into his office, but then he stopped when he noticed I was standing there.

His eyes widened. “Elena?”

I stepped out from my hiding place, trying to smile naturally. “Surprise.”

His whole face transformed, lighting up in a way that made him look years younger. “What are you doing here?”

“I missed you,” I said, surprised to find it was the absolute truth. “Thought I'd come see whether the boss is doing his bossing.”

He strode toward me, pulling me into his arms like we'd been apart for weeks instead of hours. “Mmm, I like this surprise,” he murmured, pressing his lips to mine.

I melted into the kiss, wondering if it would be our last before he knew the truth. When he finally pulled away, he kept his hands on my waist, studying my face.

“Everything okay? You seem... off.”

I shook my head, forcing brightness into my voice. I wanted to preserve this moment, this day, his happiness. Just a little longer. “Just tired. Last night was quite a workout.”

His smile turned wolfish. “Happy to provide exercise anytime.”

“I bet you are.” I looked around and noticed it was rather quiet. “So, slow day?”

“It’s tax filing season,” he sighed, leading me inside and closing the door behind us. “But now that you’re here, the numbers can go fuck themselves so I can fuck you.”

I laughed, some of the tension easing from my shoulders. “Are you always this smooth with the ladies, Mr. Ajello?”

“Only my wife.” He pulled me back into his arms. “Especially when she shows up looking so damn beautiful, I can't think straight.”

His mouth found mine again, harder this time, more demanding.

I responded with equal fervor, my hands fisting in his shirt, pulling him closer.

Maybe I was trying to memorize the feel of him, the taste of him, before everything changed.

I didn’t know what it was, but I didn’t want the moment to end.

“Lock the door,” I whispered against his lips, surprising myself.

His eyes darkened. “Here? Now?”

“Unless you have another meeting...”

He was at the door in seconds, turning the lock before striding back to me. “Cleared my schedule,” he growled, lifting me onto his desk with strong hands. Papers scattered to the floor, but he didn't seem to care as he nudged my knees apart, stepping between them.

“What's gotten into you?” he asked, his hands sliding up my thighs, pushing my dress higher.

I didn't answer, just pulled him down for another kiss. I didn't trust my voice not to break, didn't trust myself not to confess everything if I started talking. So, I let my body speak instead.

Later, after we'd christened his desk and then, for good measure, the leather couch against the wall, we sat together, my head on his shoulder, his arm around me.

“Not that I'm complaining,” he said, his voice lazy with satisfaction, “but what was that about?”

I snuggled closer, breathing in his scent. “Do I need a reason to want my husband?”

The word still felt strange in my mouth. Husband. Somehow, along the way, that's what he'd become.

“No reason needed,” he confirmed, pressing a kiss to my temple. “In fact, how do you feel about heading back home? I need to change into something more comfortable, and say, we could get dinner after, maybe catch a movie? I can't remember the last time we went out like that. Just the two of that.”

My heart squeezed painfully. There was nothing normal about any of this. About the secret I was keeping, about the truth he didn’t know. “I'd like that.”

He stood and gave me his hand. “Then let’s go.”

I couldn't tell him. Not today. Not when he looked at me like that, all excited like a little puppy for a movie and dinner. Tomorrow, I decided. I'd tell him tomorrow.

The drive home was a blur. Gastone tried to make conversation, but I could barely focus on his words. All I could think about was the envelope waiting for me, and what I had to do.

Back in the apartment, I went straight to the bedroom, dropping onto the edge of the bed. Before I could change my mind, I pulled open the drawer and took out the envelope. I needed to look at everything again, to be absolutely sure before I told Gastone.

Just as I was about to open it, I heard his voice.

“Elena?” Gastone called.

“In the bedroom!” I called back, my voice unnaturally high as I quickly shoved it back in the drawer and slammed it shut. “Just getting ready!”

He appeared in the doorway, loosening his tie. “Good. I need to grab your phone charger. I left mine in the office by mistake.”

He moved toward the nightstand— the nightstand with the drawer —and I jumped up.

“I'll get it for you!” I said too quickly.

He gave me a strange look, his hand already on the knob as he pulled it open. “It's right there in the drawer.”

“No!” and without thinking, I reached over and grabbed his hand.

His eyes narrowed, and he glanced down before I could stop him. The envelope was right on top, the word “EVIDENCE” glaring up at us in bold black letters.

“What's this?” he asked quietly, dangerously.

I swallowed hard. “Gastone, please—”

He picked up the envelope, his expression hardening. “What is this, Elena?” he repeated, his voice like ice.