The Consigliere Who Chose Everyone but Me

We landed in Milan late at night. The moment we stepped into the hotel lobby, Rocco’s satellite phone rang.

He answered. "Don't cry. Stay put. I'm coming."

His face was a grim mask. He told the driver to pull over.

"It's Livia. She followed us to Italy. She's in Milan, at a casino, and she's found trouble. Our enemies are everywhere here. I can't leave her alone."

Before I could say a word, he was in the driver's seat, flooring it back toward the city.

The car door slammed shut. And just like that, he was gone.

He'd left me. Alone. In a foreign country, with no passport, no money, and not a single word of Italian.

The lobby blurred. Voices dropped to whispers. Phones came out, their screens like a thousand hungry eyes. The panic hit me like a physical blow. My throat closed. My heart hammered against my ribs. I couldn't breathe.

I had to get out of there. Find somewhere to hide.

"Aurelia?" A low, calm voice cut through the panic.

I turned. A familiar face.

"Adrian?"

Adrian Volkov stood there in a dark blue suit, his eyes kind.

"What are you doing here?"

"Business," he said, walking toward me. "You don't look so good."

I bit my lip, not knowing what to say.

Adrian scanned the lobby and made a decision.

"Come with me."

He didn't ask questions. He just took my wrist gently and led me away from the prying eyes.

"I need the presidential suite on the top floor," Adrian said to the concierge.

The manager recognized him immediately.

"Mr. Volkov. Of course. Right away, sir."

A few minutes later, I was sitting on a plush sofa in a sprawling suite, a warm cup of tea in my hands.

"Thank you," I said, my voice soft.

"Don't mention it." Adrian sat across from me. "Want to talk about it?"

I shook my head.

"Then we won't," he said, no pressure in his voice. "You can rest here. The room's in my name. You're safe."

His words made me want to cry.

"Adrian, why... why are you always there when I need someone?"

He was quiet for a moment.

"Maybe it's fate."

Rocco finally showed up at ten that night.

He found me, his face a thundercloud.

"What are you doing here?" he demanded, his eyes sweeping over the massive suite. "Whose room is this?"

"Adrian Volkov's," I answered calmly.

Rocco’s face got even darker.

"Volkov? Why the hell is that bastard here?"

"Business," I repeated Adrian's word. "He helped me."

"Helped you with what? You couldn't just wait for me in the lobby?"

I looked at him, and he suddenly felt like a stranger.

"Rocco, you took my passport and all my cash. I was alone in a strange place. I couldn't even buy a bottle of water."

Rocco faltered. "I was just trying to keep you safe..."

"And Livia?" I cut him off. "How is she?"

"She's... she's fine. A little shaken up," he said, his tone strained. "I got her a room at a hotel downtown."

I nodded. "Good."

Rocco came toward me, reaching to pull me up.

"Let's go back to the villa. Livia needs a secure place to rest. This suite is perfect..."

"What?"

I couldn't believe what I was hearing.

"You want me to give my room to Livia?"

"Aurelia, she's been through a lot. She needs the best protection..."

I stood up and took a step back.

"Get out."

"What?"

"I said, get out." My voice was quiet, but he heard the steel in it.

"Aurelia, are you kidding me?"

"I have never been more serious in my life."

Rocco tried to get closer, but I kept backing away.

"If you don't leave, I'll call security."

Rocco stared at me, his face a storm of fury, then he turned and left.

The click of the door was soft, but in my heart, it sounded like thunder.

The next afternoon, Adrian took me on a drive along the Sicilian coast.

The sun glittered on the blue water, and the salty wind felt clean.

"Feeling better?" Adrian asked.

"Much better," I said. "Thank you for yesterday. You saved me."

"We're friends, aren't we?"

"Yeah," I smiled. "Ever since high school."

I remembered it clearly. A group of girls had cornered me in the bathroom, mocking my anxiety, pouring water on my head.

Adrian had burst in, cursing at them in Russian, then gently draped his jacket over me.

"You always protect me."

"And I'm always happy to do it," Adrian replied.

When we got back to the suite that evening, Adrian’s shirt was stained with red wine from dinner.

"You can use the shower," I said, pointing. "I'm going to get some air on the balcony."

I stood on the balcony, looking out at the distant sea.

Suddenly, a loud bang came from behind me.

"Open the door! Aurelia!"

Rocco's voice, angry and frantic.

Before I could react, the door splintered open.

Rocco stormed in and froze.

Adrian walked out of the bathroom. A white towel was slung low on his hips, water glistening on the hard muscles of his chest and stomach.

Rocco’s eyes landed on Adrian, then on me. A muscle in his jaw jumped. "What the hell," he snarled, "is this?"

He lashed out at Adrian with a punch.