Page 20 of Veil of the Past
I keep my gaze fixed on the road, forcing myself to breathe, to think. I need a plan. I need to figure out what the hell Helen is doing here, and more importantly, what she wants. If she’s back, there’s a reason. And I need to know what it is before she makes her next move.
But right now, all I can see is her face—the way she looked at me, like she knew I’d be there, like she was waiting for me, like a predator waiting for its prey. I feel a chill run down my spine, my fingers digging into the wheel. She shouldn’t know where I am. She shouldn’t even know I’m alive. And yet…
“Romiro, you’re scaring me,” Alessia says suddenly, breaking through the fog in my head. Her voice is small, almost fragile, and I realize I’ve been gripping the wheel so hard my knuckles are white.
I force myself to relax, to take a breath. “I’m sorry,” I say, my voice softer this time. “I’m just … dealing with something. It’s not about you, okay?”
She nods, but I can see the uncertainty in her eyes, the doubt that’s probably eating at her, the way she’s biting her lip, like she wants to ask more but doesn’t know if she should. I hate that look. I hate that I’ve put it there. But I can’t deal with her questions right now. I can’t deal with anything except the fear crawling up my spine, whispering that everything I’ve built, everything I’ve done to protect myself, is about to come crashing down.
We’re almost at her apartment. The streets are quieter here, fewer people, fewer lights. I pull up to the curb, the car coming to a stop with a soft squeal of the brakes. Alessia looks at me, her eyes searching mine, and for a moment, I feel like I’m suffocating.
“Thanks for the ride,” she says softly, her voice tentative, like she’s trying to gauge my mood. I nod, not trusting myself to speak. She reaches out, touching my arm again, only this time more hesitantly. “If you need to talk … if there’s anything?—”
“I’m fine,” I repeat, a little too quickly. “Just … go inside, okay?”
She frowns, pulling her hand back, hurt flashing in her eyes. “Okay,” she whispers, her voice barely audible. She opens the car door and steps out into the cool night. I watch her go, my heart pounding in my chest, a thousand thoughts racing through my mind.
She glances back at me once more, and I try to smile, but it feels wrong, forced. She nods, then turns and heads toward her building. I watch her until she disappears through the door, then I’m alone. Just me and my thoughts, the city stretching out around me like a labyrinth of dark clouds.
I let out a long breath, my hands still gripping the wheel, my mind spinning. I need to figure this out. I need to know what Helen wants, who she’s working with, and why the hell she’s back. I can’t let her destroy everything I’ve built—everything I’ve tried to protect.
I reach for my phone, my fingers trembling slightly. I falter, my thumb hovering over Eli’s number, then Nicolo’s. Who do I tell? Who do I trust with this?
The only thing that keeps repeating in my mind, over and over like a chant, is the one thought I can’t shake.
She’s back. She is back.Fuck.
Helen’s back. And I don’t know what the hell I’m going to do about it.
I sit in the car, the engine idling, my mind racing. I watch the door to Alessia's building for another moment, hoping she’ll come back out, that she’ll defy me, walk back to me, and just sit with me, even if she doesn’t understand. But she doesn’t. The door stays closed, and the silence inside the car feels suffocating.
I run a hand through my hair, exhaling sharply. I can’t just sit here. I need to move, to do something. I grab my phone from the console, my fingers moving on instinct as I dial Eli’s number. It rings once, twice, and then he picks up.
“Yeah?” Eli’s voice comes through, gruff and annoyed. I hear the noise of the street in the background; he’s probably on a date with Val or heading off to one of the clubs.
“I saw her,” I say, cutting straight to the point. My voice is lower than I intend, almost a growl.
There’s a pause, a beat of silence. “Saw who?” Eli asks, like he’s already bracing himself for bad news.
“Helen,” I say, my voice flat, but the name feels like a punch to the gut. “My mother. I saw her, Eli. She’s alive.”
I hear the sharp intake of breath on the other end, the rustling of movement. “What the fuck, Romiro? You’re sure?” His tone is all business now, sharp and focused.
“I know what I saw,” I snap, pounding on the wheel. “She was across the street from the restaurant. I saw her come out while I was leaving with Alessia.”
Eli lets out a low curse, and I can almost envision the way his face tightens, the way his eyes narrow when he’s thinking hard. “Shit. This is the last thing we need right now. We’ve already got the Russians breathing down our necks and the Outfit lurking around like fucking ghosts. And now this?”
“I know,” I mutter, the anger is rising in me again. “I thought she was dead, Eli. I thought we were done with her.”
“Well, apparently not,” he snaps back. “And if she’s here, it means trouble. Big trouble. Who the hell is she working with? Why now?”
I don’t have answers, and it’s pissing me off. “I don’t know, but we need to figure it out. Fast.” My phone signals another person is attempting to call me, and I merge the calls together.
“Yeah, no shit,” Eli grumbles. “This is gonna put more heat on us, more than we can handle right now.”
I hear a click, and Nicolo’s voice cuts in, cold and controlled. “What’s going on?”
“Romiro saw Helen,” Eli tells him. “She’s alive.”
