Page 53 of Filthy Dirty Dom
But she knew better than to pry. She trusted Alex, but there were things about himself he kept behind heavily guarded walls that she’d never get over.
Given where they were, the image was beyond ironic.
Turning her attention to Leslie, the older woman studied her for a moment, her gaze flickering with unspoken thoughts. After a long moment, she gave Leslie a small smile that warmed her eyes. It was a simple gesture, but something in it hinted at a deeper sentiment, one that Leslie couldn't decipher. “Welcome, Leslie. I’m Renee.”
“I’m so pleased to meet you, Renee.” Leslie asked Renee a few polite, surface-level questions, hoping to foster some rapport. Renee remained courteous but vague in her responses, giving little away about her personal life. Maybe it’s a skill she’d taught Alex.
A few minutes later, Alex and Leslie were seated at the table with a feast of Italian dishes in front of them. Leslie focused on enjoying the meal, letting the aromatic smells and delicious flavors provide a momentary reprieve from the chaos that had brought them to this island.
As the meal wound down, Renee came in to gather dishes. "Thank you, the food was amazing," Leslie said sincerely.
Renee gave her a modest nod then replied with something in Italian, her voice soft yet carrying a weight to it. She looked from Leslie to Alex, her gaze settling on him as she finished speaking. The room fell into a brief silence, the meaning of her words lost on Leslie.
"What did she say?" Leslie asked.
Alex’s eyes met Renee’s for a moment before turning back to Leslie. "She said you seem to be a good woman and she's happy to have you here."
Leslie smiled at the kind sentiment.
As dinner concluded, Alex said, "It's getting late." He cast a glance towards the windows where the sun was starting its descent. "We should meet with the head of security while there's still light."
After thanking Renee, Alex guided her down some hallways until they came to an office at the back corner of the house. There they were met by the same stern-faced man who had greeted them upon their arrival, Damien’s posture stiff and professional as he offered them a formal nod before leading the way outside.
Damien pointed out the guards positioned at strategic points around the property, their alert gazes scanning the perimeter with hawk-like precision. He called their attention to the high, formidable fence that encircled the compound, its surface lined with barbed wire, though Leslie wasn’t sure why, since no one would miss it. He explained there were CCTV cameras perched at every corner, their all-seeing eyes capturing every inch of the compound.
“The buildings are fortified,” Damien said, “with bulletproof windows and reinforced doors, designed to withstand any form of attack.”
Alex listened as Damien rattled off the various security protocols, his face a mask of concentration. He asked pointed questions about response times, backup support, and evacuation procedures, the answers seeming to satisfy him.
Leslie sensed the tension easing from his shoulders until they passed by a group of men, and one of them stepped away from the rest. He was lithe and athletic, his youthful features contrasting with the serious, focused look on his face. "Alex," he said, his voice cracking.
Alex froze, his expression going blank. The atmosphere around them grew tense, the sudden silence feeling heavy. Finally, Alex nodded his head. “Nico.”
“Welcome to the island,” Nico said.
“Thank you.”
The interaction was strained, their conversation stilted. It was clear to Leslie that there was a shared history between them, one that was laden with a mix of emotions.
Nico glanced at Leslie, his gaze assessing before offering her a polite nod. "It's nice to meet you, Ms. Duke," he said, the awkwardness of his greeting making her smile politely.
Nico took a step back before he retraced that step and walked up to Alex. He extended his hand to Alex, and after a moment's hesitation, Alex grasped it in return. The handshake was firm, and then to Leslie’s surprise, Nico pulled Alex into a brief, manly embrace. He slapped Alex's back, holding onto him just a fraction longer than necessary.
As Nico leaned in, he whispered something in Alex's ear, the words in Italian too low for Leslie to catch, not that she would have understood them anyway. She was almost fluent in French but not Italian. The closeness of the interaction, the emotional charge in Nico's voice, only added to Leslie's curiosity.
Pulling back, Nico gave Alex a firm pat on the shoulder, a small smile playing on his lips. It was a fleeting moment of camaraderie that quickly dissipated as Nico excused himself, once again joining the group of men who looked at them curiously.
Who was Nico to Alex? And how was Alex connected to these people? She had known that Alex's past was complicated, but she was only now beginning to understand just how complex it was. The difference in the Alex she knew and this Alex was palpable. He was simultaneously softer, like with Renee, and harder, uncomfortable even though he seemed to know these people well, guarding her like a trained attack dog, ready to strike at anyone or anything that might so much as look at her wrong.
23
They continued walking, leaving Nico behind, and Alex struggled to contain his emotions. This place, these people, they were all fragments of a past he had left behind. Yet, here he was, standing on the familiar grounds, surrounded by familiar faces. The irony was not lost on him that he had returned to this place to protect one woman when he’d spectacularly failed at protecting another one for whom this island had meant a great deal.
Every corner of the compound, every face he came across, was a reminder of a time he had tried to forget. Even in the moments that seemed benign, pleasant even, there was a constant undercurrent of unease. Grief.
His gaze slid to Leslie, walking by his side, her trusting eyes seeking his. By being here, he was not only confronting his past but also weaving Leslie into its complex tapestry.
Throughout the tour, he had watched her from the corner of his eye, noticing the way her gaze lingered on interactions a second too long, the slight furrow of her brow as she pieced together fragments of unspoken history. Leslie was intelligent, observant, and despite the fact she was navigating a dangerous and unfamiliar situation, she was aware that there was more to things than appeared on the surface.