Lev stood there in his pajama pants, his arms crossed over his chest, glaring at Alessio in complete silence. The moment he heard my footsteps, he spoke to my brother who stood a few feet away, his hands behind his back. “You’ve got five minutes. Make the time you have worth it, because you’ll never get another chance.”

He kissed my head as I passed him, and I watched him walk into the kitchen. I stopped a long way from my brother. He was dressed in a pair of brown khakis, a white tee, and a black jacket. He also looked extremely nervous.

“Hello,” I mumbled.

He raised a hand in greeting and sighed as he spoke, “Hey.” He stepped forward and held out his other hand. He did this so quickly that I stepped back with a flinch. Alessio’s face twisted as he held out the bunch of pink tulips, his hand falling slightly. “Shit. I’m not gonna hurt you, Mina.”

I hugged myself, my voice flat. “You already have.”

His hands found his hips, the bunch of tulips hanging upside down. He dipped his chin, nodding to the ground. “Yeah,” he admitted. When he lifted his head, he spoke sincerely, “I shouldn’t have said what I said. I thought about some of the things I told you later on, and I…” His lips thinned. “I shouldn’t have said those things. It wasn’t your fault he was a mean bastard, and I mean it when I say I’m glad I took all that shit from Enzo so you never had to. So,”—he shrugged awkwardly and spoke quietly—“sorry.”

He seemed genuinely sorry—or at least he acted it.

“Okay,” I muttered under my breath.

I didn’t know what else to say, so I didn’t say anything.

Alessio, looking more and more uncomfortable by the second, swallowed hard. He moved to place the bunch of tulips on the hall table by the door and stepped back. “Okay, well, that’s all I wanted to say, so I guess I’ll see you around.” He thought about that then sighed, “Or not.”

He was being civil, and something told me that was a big deal for Alessio Scarfo.

Alessio moved to leave when I called out, “Would you like some coffee?”

He stilled, spun back around, and then reached up to rub the back of his neck. He nodded uneasily. “Sure. Coffee would be great.”

We took our coffee in the living room where we could speak alone, but where I wouldn’t have to be far from Lev. I wasn’t sure how this would end. It seemed Alessio could be unpredictable when provoked.

I kept my first question simple. “How old are you?”

“I’ll be thirty this year,” he told me as he held his coffee mug tighter than he should have. “How about you?”

“I’m twenty-four.”

A long silence followed.

“And you were homeless,” he added quietly.

“Yeah.” I nodded slowly. “I don’t really like to talk about it.”

“Sure. Okay,” he said. “And you’re working at Bleeding Hearts?”

“Yeah. I’m bartending.”

“How are you liking it?” he asked politely.

I smiled down into my mug. “I like it just fine.”

Oh, God, this conversation was so freaking painful.

It was like eating chalk. Cheap and tasteless.

I sighed, running a hand through my damp hair. “You don’t have to be so polite, you know? You can ask me real questions. I promise I won’t get freaked out.”

He nodded, but his hesitation was clear. “Clara…” He cleared his throat. “She was nice, huh?”

“She was,” I said genuinely.

He bit the inside of his lip. Just like I did when I was nervous. And the act made me smile. “You got any photos of her?”

“No,” I told him with deep regret. “I left my photo album with my foster parents when I ran away. I was seventeen and stupid. I didn’t even think.” I huffed out a long breath. “I’d do anything to get it back.”

He must have really wanted to see that album, because the next thing he said was, “I’m good at finding people. If you give me their names and whatever other info you can, I’ll see what I can do.”

I smiled at him then, and I grinned wide. “Lev’s already looking for them.”

Alessio shrugged. “Can’t hurt to have two people looking.” His lip twitched. “Many hands make light work, you know?”

The conversation was getting easier. My heart warmed.

But my smile fell. “You’ve never seen a picture of Mom?”

“Yeah, I have, but those were at the club. Laredo has a stack of ‘em. She was all dolled up for the stage. I guess I wanted to see how she looked in real life, you know?” His lip twitched and he caught my eye. “Those photos at the club…I’ve seen our mother’s tits.”

A bark of laughter came out of me so hard that I had to cover my mouth. “Oh, man. Ewww.”

His body shook with silent laughter and the scars around his mouth stretched. “Yeah, not cool.” His smile stretched as far as it could and he winced, reaching up to rub the thickest scar at his lip.

I noticed.

He noticed that I noticed, and his smile fled.

He lifted his hand and ran it in front of his scarred face. “I wish I could change this.” He paused a moment before adding, “I haven’t always looked this way.”

I tried to smile. “I haven’t always looked this way either.”

Alessio pinned me with a stare. “You’re beautiful though.” He shook his head. “You don’t scare kids with your ugly mug.”

His words were pained, and it hurt to listen to them, but he was my brother, and if he wanted to talk about it, I would listen attentively, because he needed me to.

“I know about what happened. I know about your wife and Sasha.” I reached over to lay my hand over his, the hand that rested on his knee. “I’m sorry.”

He shook his head. “Don’t be. She was a fucking lunatic. We married in Vegas after a drunken night out. We met a few hours before. I didn’t even know her. I sure as fuck didn’t love her. She was beautiful though.” He shrugged. “My own fault for thinking with my cock.”

I removed my hand, flushing at his crude admission. “I see.”

He glimpsed down at his wristwatch. “Shit. Is that the time? I…” He looked up at me, wearing a hesitant look on his face. “I gotta go.”

Disappointment filled me. “Oh.” I stood and he followed suit. I forced a smile. “Well, it was nice talking to you, Alessio.” I wasn’t sure how my next request would go. “I know it might sound crazy, but if you have any pictures of Enzo, I’d really like to see them. I know I can’t call him my father, but I was made from part of him. I’d like to see how he looked.”

His face brightened. “Yeah, I got a few. I can bring ‘em down one day.”

A breath of relief left me. “That would be great.”

Alessio grinned then. “I’ll bring ‘em down if you let me find your foster parents.”

I narrowed my eyes at him, but did it smiling. “You really want to see that album.”

His smile softened. “I know I can’t call Clara my mother, but I was made from part of her.”

Without permission, I reached out and took his hand, squeezing. I released it quickly and walked into the hall for a pen and piece of paper. I returned with the written details and handed it to him. “Here. These are all the names of the family members and where they used to live. I can’t remember much more than that.” I pointed out the phone number on the corner of the page. “That’s my number.”

Alessio looked down at the details before folding it up and slipping it into his pocket. “This is a good start. I’ll let you know if I find anything.” He looked up at me. “I’ll call.”

I held out my hand and he took it, not shaking it, just holding it. And my heart ached. Today had gone well. I didn’t want him to go. I wanted to know more about him. I wanted to talk from dusk till dawn until there was nothing left to say.

My eyes bright, I asked on a whisper, “Can I hug you?”

He blinked down at me. His response came in the form of him tugging the hand he held, pulling me to him until his arms wrapped around me, and his warmth blanketed me. Reaching up, I gripped the sides of his tee and rested my head on his chest, closing my eyes, just taking in this special moment.