REDEMPTION | MAFIA ROMANCE | SMUT

CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

Alexa

I stood by the window and peered at the black Mercedes nestled between incurvated trees across the street. I noticed it before entering the apartment building last night. It was parked in the same spot. I am almost ninety-nine percent sure it's the exact vehicle I saw outside Liam's penthouse Christmas morning.

When the driver's side door opened, I held my breath, hoping to get a glimpse of the motorist. His tanned boot graced the concrete as he soared from tinted windows. He is Amazonian tall, lean and muscular. He wore washed-out denim jeans and an unbuttoned paisley shirt over his white vest. His casual attire contrasted his evident taste for top-of-the-range vehicles for someone who owned such an expensive car. His blond, half-messy ponytail hung tight at the back, and his ungroomed beard covered his jaw.

Tapering down anxiety, I unlocked the phone, zoomed the camera on his license plate and clicked a picture. I uploaded the image online.

Find the car owner by vehicle registration number plate.

I clicked on the link, typing details into the search engine.

Arben Biberi.

A wave of dizziness washed over me.

Albanian.

My gaze returned to the window.

Arben walked across the street. He did it so leisurely as if taking a morning stroll. You'd never suspect him or his motives. Pausing by the apartment's entrance, he looked from left to right, cracked open the multi-mailbox and hunted through residents' letters.

I stopped breathing.

Tossing the phone on the bed, I rushed out of the apartment and descended the stairway two steps at a time. I pushed open the building's front door, expecting to catch him in the act. When I got to the entrance, he had vanished. Even the Mercedes disappeared. I saw no sight of him. Yet, when I assessed the tampered post, I smelt pungent cologne in his wake.

My bare feet touched the cold floor. "What do you want?"

And then, parked on the other side of the street, I saw the black vehicle. He relocated and is watching me now. I can feel it in my gut.

Locking the mailbox, I stumbled indoors.

Double-locking the front door to the apartment, I wiped the mugginess from my palms and stared into the peephole.

"Happy birthday!" Chloe boomed, and I jumped like a teenager caught red-handed in a mischievous act. "I was ready to jump on you..." Her liveliness plummeted. "Hey, is everything okay? You're looking a little pale." Putting a hand to my forehead, she murmured something about temperature. "Alexa?"

"I'm fine." Tucking damp hair behind my ears, I stared at the locked door in trepidation. "I am hungry, that's all."

"Well, I plan to feed you." She slapped an envelope on my palm. "Happy birthday, Hon."

"Aw, Chloe. You didn't have to get me anything," I'm lying. I'd have killed her. "What is it?"

Her smile reached her eyes. "Open it and find out."

I tore through the envelope, unable to contain excitement: private box tickets to The Phantom of the Opera in Her Majesty's Theatre. "Oh, God, Chloe. These tickets must have cost you a fortune." I had never visited the theatre before. It is something Kathy always promised we'd do together. "Thank you." Pulling her in for a hug, I held on tight. "I'd be lost without you. You know that, right?"

"I know." Her inoffensive smugness brought a smile to my lips. "I am the best."

Yes, I am blessed.