𝟐𝟔 || 𝐈𝐋𝐋𝐈𝐂𝐈𝐓

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"So you and my brother, huh?" Lena's curiosity had finally gotten the better of her.

Central Park was beautiful at this time of year; the leaves were vibrant shades of green, the grass was freshly maintained, the flowers were bright, and the sun casted a nice glow over the pathway that we walked on.

We'd been strolling for about an hour, and she hadn't brought up anything about me and Dominic until now. We had gotten coffee, and then had a few long conversations about whatever came to mind.

She was hesitant to tell me about what she did for work, but ended up telling me anyways. The information that she shared probably should have scared me, but it didn't, I wasn't exactly fazed by it anymore.

After the auction, seeing her and how she handled a gun, I wouldn't have expected anything less.

She explained to me that she wasn't a part of the Italian Mafia, and she did her own thing. Though on certain occasions, she would attend galas and auctions for the sake of publicity, and maybe to get out a little bit more.

"What?" I asked her in response to her question, my voice tinged with confusion.

"Are you two a thing?" She inquired.

"No. God, no," I replied firmly and quickly.

Her eyebrows raised, and she leaned in closer. "What was that in the bathroom at the auction then?"

Right.

"We were trying to make it look like we did something so that people wouldn't be suspicious of our marriage," I explained, my voice low. "But nothing actually happened."

Lena didn't seem satisfied with my response. "And last night?"

I had been about to continue walking, but her question made me stop in my tracks. I turned to face her, a puzzled expression on my face. "Sorry?"

She laughed softly, turning to face me. Her light blonde, almost platinum hair looked even lighter in the sunlight. "You came out of his room this morning."

How the fuck did she know? I had come out of Dominic's room for a good split second, just to see who he was talking to, but I wasn't aware that she was saw me. "That wasn't anything, nothing happened," I defended.

"You can't walk and you have hickeys on your neck." Her claim to my inability to walk shocked me more than it should have. Each step I took was slower than my usual pace, and I had to push back a wince. I thought I had hidden it fairly well, but I guess she was more observant than I thought she was.

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