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"His love life is and always has been private. It's also none of my business. But, if it makes you feel any better, he hasn't dated anyone seriously since I've come into the organization."
"That sounds lonely."
Lorenzo shrugs it off. "Power is lonely."
With that, our conversation dies down, letting the faint sounds of talk radio fill the rest of our drive to a medical complex not too far from my parents' home.
The offices of Dr. Kathleen Bireli are the definition of squeaky clean. Every surface is so white, perfect, and the place is quiet. There's a receptionist sitting behind the desk as we enter the waiting room. Lorenzo takes a seat in a line of empty navy blue chairs and picks up a magazine to read.
The girl has to be younger than me, and I'm only twenty-five. She has a job, and I stay home all day, cooking and baking for the family. I need to figure something out. But deciding who I should be that doesn't involve being my father's daughter or Alessandro's wife is daunting.
After filling out copious amounts of paperwork, Dr. Bireli steps into the waiting area with a warm smile on her face, blonde curls tucked into a low ponytail, and piercing blue eyes that remind me of Alessandro. I'm already stripped down and in a hospital gown, sitting on the tissue paper-covered exam bench.
As she puts on her gloves to examine me, I can't stop myself from rambling. "I know this must be crazy to just pop in because Alessandro says so. I hope this didn't take you away from any patients. I can come back if you're busy. As a matter of fact, I can come back."
"Take it easy, Mrs. De Luca. You're fine." She nods with a shade of arrogant nonchalance. She takes all my vitals, blood, urine, and asks me a slew of questions about my medical history.
"The receptionist has the contact info for my GYN and my primary in case I've forgotten anything. How long does it take to get the results back?" I ask her once we finish.
"A few hours. We have a lab here. It helps maintain confidentiality and minimize leaking of records, visits, et cetera. All in all, everything looks good, but we'll wait until the results come back to be sure. And you're on birth control already?"
"Yeah, good old implant," I tell her, tapping the top of my arm.
She nods. "Okay, if you ever want to change methods or have it removed, feel free to stick with your GYN, or you can call me anytime, Mrs. De Luca."
"I don't like the way you say that, or maybe it's the way I'm hearing it. Did, or do, you and Alessandro have something between you two?"
"I apologize if my tone alluded to anything like that because no, we don't. We're just two peas in a fucked up kind of pod. You've got nothing to worry about from me, honey. Any more questions? About your visit today?"
"No, that's it." I thank her and leave the office with Lorenzo by my side every step of the way. I can't stop thinking about what Dr. Bireli said. What the hell did she mean? It's driving me crazy to the point that when Lorenzo pulls up to the brownstone, I'm anxious to get inside.
He's in his office when I burst through the door, ignoring his rules. It draws a raised eyebrow from him as he sits behind his desk.
"What's wrong?" he asks.
"What's the fucked up pod you're a pea in?"
9
ALESSANDRO
The tightening of my jaw is a natural reaction to tamp down my temper in situations I don't have enough context to react to. When the beautiful Evelyn De Luca bursts through my office door, I'm wondering where this conversation is going.
"I don't pee and haven't peed on anyone in any pod. What are you talking about?" I ask her.
I nod at Lorenzo, who's standing behind her in the doorway, ready to hoist her out and toss her into the bedroom upstairs. The nod lets him know this is allowed, for now. He retreats, closing the door behind him and Evelyn. My dangerously seductive Evelyn storms toward my desk and plants her dainty fingertips on top of my documents.
"I spoke to your doctor," she says in an accusatory tone.
"That was the point, mio dolce. Remember? Nothing between us." I tease her because this expression of anger reminds me of the same one she wore in the church, right before she became my wife.
"Not even secrets, right?" she asks.
That grabs my attention. "Everyone has secrets, Evelyn. I'm not going to tell you mine after being married for twenty-four fucking hours."
"Oh, so your tasting my pussy with your cock in my hand isn't too much to share, but telling me what's going on between you and Dr. Sexy Sexington can't be a topic of discussion? You sent me to her knowing that you two share some sordid past, and you let her call me Mrs. De Luca. You should have heard the way she said it."
If we're going to have this conversation, I'm not going to do it sober. There's a decanter on a shelf behind me where all of my law books, journals, case studies, and client files fill a floor-to-ceiling built-in unit. I grab two glasses and pour myself one. When I motion to pour her a drink, she shakes her head in disdain, folding her arms across those supple breasts.
