Page 68 of Alessio

A hum sounded from the speaker.

Loud and dark.

Alessio seemed unaffected. “That’s nice, and I also don’t care. Because while we’re aware that to you, Ginevra is a means to an end, here … here she means something. So, you give me something to tell her, or I will come cut it out of your fucking mouth. You hear me?”

Corrado grinned, glancing away because right, he was the one who needed to keep himself in check. Not at all Alessio.

No.

Alessio’s fingers tapped against Corrado’s chest, drawing his attention back to the man as he nodded. “Within a couple of months? Not firm, but likely. Got it.”

He hung up the phone without a proper goodbye and handed it out to Corrado accompanied by a pointed look. Corrado took the device, shaking his head at the same time.

“He’s hoping to have everything finished within a couple of months,” Alessio said like Corrado hadn’t heard the conversation already. “We’ll see how that works out.”

“Still nothing for her to have about her sisters, though.”

Alessio shrugged. “They’re alive, Corrado. You can tell her they are still alive.”

Yeah.

What good would that do, though?

“It’s the best we can do.”

“Right,” Corrado agreed.

Not that it made him feel better.

Alessio turned back to the stove, his pancake bubbled in the center to say it was ready to flip.

“Turn it over,” Corrado said. “And try not to make a mess.”

“I am doing fine.”

“I didn’t say you weren’t.”

Alessio made a noise under his breath but did flip the pancake. Corrado wasn’t sure how long the two of them stayed like that, close together against the stove as Alessio made an entire stack worth of pancakes that were decent, and not at all burned, but the minutes ticked by.

In their closeness, he found home.

In their silence, comfort.

A part of Corrado hoped the two of them were getting back to what they had been before this whole thing happened. Oh, he wasn’t stupid enough to think it would be the same, but it could be better.

He wanted that just as badly.

Corrado pressed a quick kiss to the top of Alessio’s wide shoulder. His head turned, his gaze finding Corrado, but he said nothing. Not that he needed Alessio to say anything—all he ever needed was the man to be there.

In Alessio’s stare, he found familiarity.

Understanding.

Corrado figured Alessio still had shit he needed to work through here, and he was more than willing to allow him whatever he needed to do it. Now, at least, they could get back to them while he did it, and that made all the difference.

It always had.

Alessio turned his attention back to the last pancake on the frying pan, saying, “Someone should go wake Ginevra up. She’ll want to eat, too.”