Endless love

CHAPTER 3:CONARD

We had just returned to Rome. Tasha was already waiting at the restaurant, but I had a meeting with my father — in the organization.

I dressed neatly in a black suit, my hair slicked back. I’ve always hated meetings like this, but it’s not something I can run away from.

“We’re here,” Silly — my right-hand man — announced as the car stopped in front of the massive black mansion, its gates secured with heavy iron locks.

I stepped out and was greeted by a row of maids bowing respectfully. Without sparing them a glance, I walked with measured confidence toward the meeting hall.

Everyone seated inside was well into their forties. I was the only young face in the room. What a shame.

I took my seat beside my father, whose cold expression could kill anyone in an instant. Anyone but me.

“You’re late,” he remarked sharply.

I didn’t reply. Instead, I turned my attention to the large screen at the front, controlled by Felix . I never liked how he followed me everywhere, but my father insisted. His father’s debt chained him to our family, and apparently that meant he had to “protect” me.

Felix was strong — I’ll give him that — though he had a certain softness to him that made others underestimate him.

Still, I’d recently assigned him to a more important task: protecting Tasha.

“What do you think about this, young man?” a deep voice pulled me out of my thoughts.

I glanced up at the screen. It displayed a new drug they were planning to manufacture. I didn’t like it — not one bit.

“I think it will work out,” I said, avoiding my father’s eyes. The discussion continued, voices overlapping, but I was already lost in my thoughts.

When the meeting ended, I found myself sitting by the window, staring at the people outside — ordinary people, living ordinary lives. Why couldn’t I just have that? Why couldn’t I live like them?

For a moment, I imagined myself in their shoes. No power. No blood on my hands. Just… peace.

“What are you doing here?”

Tasha’s voice pulled me back to reality. She sat across from me, a nervous smile playing on her lips, her voice low.

“Can’t I visit the restaurant to eat?” I smirked.

I reached for her hand, but she quickly pulled it away. Her amber eyes locked on me — sharp, irritated, beautiful. She was angry again. Perfect.

I raised my hand to call the waitress.

“What would you like to order, sir?” the waitress asked shyly.

I glanced at the flash of Tasha’s reflection in the glass beside me — my wife, trying her best to hide her face.

“I want the most expensive dish you have,” I said, “and your finest wine.”

Tasha’s eyes snapped up to meet mine. I leaned slightly closer, just to see that familiar spark of frustration in her gaze.

She sat there, probably calculating all the ways she could murder me without getting caught. I bit back a laugh.

“We’re breaking up,” she said coldly, pushing back her chair. Then she stormed out.

I watched her go, amused. I’d lost count of how many times she’d said those words this week alone — yet she always came back.

My Tasha. So dramatic. So childish.

And still, every time our eyes met… she was utterly irresistible.