"I hope you're craving Italian." Axel nervously smiles, standing in the doorway, holding up a bag of takeout from Tony's restaurant.
He looks good—really good—wearing his typical snug-fit button up, hugging his toned biceps. His hair's gelled back with a few pieces falling forward as he anxiously fiddles with the pocket on his plaid dress slacks.
"If this is your way of kissing up..." I gesture for him to come in. "...it's working."
Stay focused, Liv!
Walking into my foyer, his intoxicating cologne surrounds me.
Fuck—he smells so good!
He makes his way to the kitchen, setting the bag down on the island as I start to close the front door behind him.
"Ummm...Who's he?" I point at a bulky, broad-shouldered man, leaning against the wall in the hallway, impassively staring at me.
"My security. He's here on Tony's orders. I'll explain."
"Shouldn't you invite him in or something?"
"Bjorn, do you want to come in?" Axel asks, seemingly annoyed by his new shadow.
The brawny looking guy shakes his head no and lets out a grunt as he crosses his arms, firmly planting himself in front of my apartment.
A man of many words, huh?
I shut the door and head into the kitchen, curious to why Tony would even have security, let alone require Axel to.
"Do you want to talk while we eat?" He pulls the to-go containers out and places them on the counter.
Immediately, the pungent aroma of fresh parsley makes me realize I haven't eaten all day. I'm starving. He takes the board lids off and my mouth practically waters as my stomach whispers a quiet growl.
"Sure, I could eat."
Am I being bribed with food just like Liza?
Yes...Yes I am.
Axel empties the foil containers onto glass dishes and heats up our food in the microwave as I pour two very full bowl-sized glasses of wine.
The silence in the room is deafening. I open my mouth to speak, but stop myself. I want to say something, anything really, but I need him to do the talking this time.
Please let me in.
Even though we only went a day without speaking, I missed him. We usually talk or text throughout the day and when we aren't on the phone, we're working together. Normally, I prefer some alone time in a relationship, but with him, I don't want time apart. I know things are moving fast, but I don't want them to slow down.
Shit...I'm falling for him. Like actually falling for him.
"I hope you like Manicotti. It's Tony's family recipe." Axel sheepishly grins, trying to break the ice, interrupting the growing tension between us. "Mickey begged him to make dinner and when I told him I was coming to see you, he said you had to have a plate."
"Well, that was sweet." I take the wine glasses and bring them to the formal dining room as Axel follows with the plates. "Please thank him for me."
"I will."
Be bold. Start asking questions.
"Speaking of Tony..." I allude, hoping to finally get some answers.
"You want to know why a chain restaurant owner requires security?" he interrupts, reading my mind.
Per usual.
I nod as I sit down at the table. Axel places our plates in front of us and sits across from me.
"Tony comes from a known Italian family." He pauses, clearing his throat. "He's uhhh...Well, he's a captain."
"Captain?"
"Kinda like a boss."
"And what do you mean by known?" I ask, making sure I fully understand what he's telling me.
"He's known by law enforcement."
I choke back my wine, in shock. "You're kidding?!"
"No, I'm not." He holds my gaze with his golden hues, showing his sincerity. "I promised you this afternoon—if you'd let me come over, I'd tell you everything that doesn't compromise your safety."
Still surprised by his bluntness, I try to comprehend this new information as my mind replays what I just heard. "So Tony's involved in, like, mafia shit?"
I thought that stuff was only in books and movies.
Axel chuckles. "They don't really refer to themselves as the mafia or mob." He picks up his stemmed glass and takes a large gulp. "But you could say his family is complicit in some illegal activities."
Should I even be hearing this?
"Doesn't telling me that compromise my safety?" I ask, now fully speaking my mind.
"I can promise you he isn't dangerous and I stay out of all of his illegal affairs." Axel smiles, reassuringly. "He's honestly a good man—he treats Mickey and I like we're his own." Staring at his drink, he swirls the Moscato, creating wine legs with the droplets inside of his glass. "The world isn't always black and white."
I nod in agreement, remembering my shitty childhood and all the terrible fucking people that pretended to be there for me, faking morality to profit off the government's wallet.
We quietly pick at our meals, the sound of our stainless steel forks tapping against the glass plates echoing throughout the house.
I push aside the many questions I have, focusing on what's crucial to right now. "So why does he think you need security?"
He sighs, looking down at his feet, like he's nervous to see what my reaction will be. "Promise you'll hear me out?"
"Yes," I reply, anxious to know the severity of this situation.
"I can't give you any names and whatever I tell you, absolutely can't leave this room." He reaches across the table and holds my hand in his, looking into my eyes, emphasizing the importance of his words. "Olivia, it cannot leave this room.
"I understand."
"You know how I said we got involved with some bad people and hacked a government agency?" I nod and he continues. "Well, it turns out they are very bad people. Like, involved-with-a-drug-cartel kinda bad people."
We've gone from mafia to cartels now?!
"How the hell did you guys get involved with them?" I blurt out, interrupting his story, sounding more judgmental than I intended.
"We thought we were hacking a corrupt corporation's classified project—an unauthorized deployment and operation of a satellite."
"And based on how this all ended, that wasn't the case?"
"No. Turns out the organization that hired us worked for the cartel."
"And the satellite?"
"A federal satellite used by a black ops task force made up of the FBI, FCC, and U.S. military to monitor illegal cartel activities."
"Jesus-fucking-Christ. So what happened?"
"We decoded some of the encrypted files, unintentionally giving the cartel its location." He shakes his head, looking disappointed in himself. "I knew better. I should've caught the red flags. But it was too late, once I realized what we had done, the cops were at our door."
"You can't blame yourself." It's my turn to smile reassuringly, showing him I'm on his side. "What happened with the cartel after?" I ask, trying to understand how they're in danger still.
"That's where it gets complicated. You see, Mickey knew how to create a backdoor into the satellite and the cartel wanted him to do it." He pauses and I gently squeeze his hand, urging him to continue. "Mickey wouldn't work with them. At least, not until they had their guys on the inside beat me up as a warning."
"Oh my God, Axel!"
"It's okay. I'm okay." He playfully rubs his abdomen with his other hand. "Just a few broken ribs. Tony and his men shielded me afterwards."
"That had to be terrifying."
"It was, but more so for Mickey. I had restricted visitation in prison, so he didn't know I was safe." Axel takes another large gulp of his wine. "He agreed to work for the cartel to protect me."
Oh, fuck.
"Why didn't he go to the FBI?"
"Well, they originally didn't show us much leniency when I was arrested, based on my background, so he didn't think they'd help."
"That's terrible. Our system is so messed up."
"It can be, but sometimes it works in our favor." A glimpse of his cheeky grin peeks through, almost distracting me from the heaviness of our conversation. "When I got out, I helped free Mickey by cutting a deal with the feds."
"That's when they wiped your record in exchange for working for them?"
"Pretty much..." he pauses again, looking even more nervous. "They didn't just erase our records. We joined WITSEC."
"WITSEC?"
"Witness protection."
What the fuck? Do I even know the man sitting before me? Has everything between us been a lie?
"The cartel didn't get all of the information they needed and the feds moved their satellite, increasing their security." I see a blink of fear flash through his eyes. "They still need Mickey."
"Then why doesn't the FBI go after them?"
"They tried to." He sighs again, this time in frustration. "They disappeared after a failed sting operation. We were given aliases with the intent of eventually returning to our old lives." Looking up at me, I'm sure he can see the confusion all over my face. I'm almost at a loss for words.
Given aliases?
"When the cartel went dark, we had to permanently become our new identities for our own safety. They stayed underground for years and we thought the past was behind us..."
New identities?
I pull my hand away from his grasp as I interject, "Wait a second." My head swims, drowning with doubt and hesitation. "Your name isn't actually Axel Carrington?"
"No. No, it's not."