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Christy
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When we walk into his house, Carmella comes out of the library. “Your clothes have been brought over from your place. Tomorrow we can go over and pack everything you want. I’ll sort out getting rid of anything you don’t want.”
Then she’s gone again. I’m frozen where I stand. What? All my things are here? I watch Tony go into the kitchen without looking back. What the hell is happening? Fuck being scared of pushing him. I follow him into the kitchen. He’s working his phone, and I hear the music change from country music to blues. “Tony, you moved my stuff here?”
An eyebrow goes up as he turns to me, “Yeah, of course,” he says the words slowly. I want to slap him so badly.
“There’s no, of course. What the hell is this?”
“What’s what?” He frowns down at me.
“This, what am I doing here? I’m going to follow you around for what a week, two weeks? Until you get bored with me? I don’t even really understand why I’m still alive right now, and I’m trying not to freak out over how that can change at any minute.”
His frown deepens. “Where the hell did you get the idea—”
Oh my god, is he serious? “Maybe from the way you offered to have my death be an easy one not even twenty-four hours ago. Which I totally fucking get. I deserve it. I don’t deserve to be standing here and—”
Hot, angry, and consuming, his mouth is on mine. I’m weak in an instant, clinging to him. I groan when it ends far too soon. Shaking his head, “What I was trying for, my sweet Christy, was to give you time to come to terms with it. Slip the bridle on nice and easy before you even realized you were wearing it, but you have to keep pushing.”
“What the fuck are you talking about? Do you think you're speaking English right now?”
“We settled this the first damn day. Yes, less than twenty-four hours ago and again less than an hour ago. You’re mine. I'm keeping you.”
It doesn’t make sense to me. Even though, yes, not even an hour ago, he claimed me again. This is Tony Sabatini, a cold, ruthless killer. Was he really going to let the whole ‘me trying to kill him thing’ go—like it never happened? “What? Locked in the basement or something?”
The fucker laughs. I know I thought I wanted to hear him laugh but not right now. Especially because it makes me wet, and I need to focus.
“No. You're mine. You belong to me. I'm keeping you with me here in this house, and in my bed. Hopefully,” he reaches out and tenderly runs his finger along my stomach. "soon, you'll help me fill this house with the children I’ve always wanted.”
A baby, he wants me... “You're serious. You're really... Oh god.” My knees go weak, and I sink to the floor.
Tony hauls me up and puts me on the island. Damn, that’s cold. He studies me intently. “Are you okay?”
I shake my head. “No, I'm not okay. You're telling me I'm going to stay here and have your babies like it's not the most fucked up thing I've ever heard in my life. What woman would be okay with that? I’m trying really hard to wake up from this insane nightmare.”
His face goes hard. “You are awake. This is real life—yours and mine. Accept it fast. Because the alternative is killing you.” I flinch. He sighs. “I don't want to fucking kill you, Christy. To keep you alive, I’m keeping you at my side, as my woman in every sense of the word.”
Why do I feel like crying? Is it even fair to him? He’s doing what he thinks he has to do to keep me alive. After what I did, he’s the one forced into this. I shouldn’t be crying—it should be him. “I told you and I mean it. I don't want to kill you. You can let me go.”
That exhale thing that’s not a laugh. “Right, and five years or ten years from now, when you hit a wall, and you're looking for someone to blame, you'll know enough to come up behind me and put the bullet in the back of my head.”
I hate the tears that fall at how sure he sounds, at the bitterness of his words. “No, oh my god, Tony. I could never hurt you. Not now. I can’t explain it. I know it doesn’t make sense, but I couldn’t do it.” I can’t, don’t dare say what is becoming clearer and stronger with every minute I spend with him.
He shakes his head as he cups my face, his thumbs wiping away my tears. “As long as you're with me, I can always see you. And once you have our baby, I'm sure there will be days when you want to kill me, but I know you won't. You won't dare.”
I swear if he hit me, it couldn’t have hurt worse. “That's what our baby will be? A keep-me-from-killing- you card?”
He sighs as he closes his eyes. When he opens them, I’m locked in and can’t look away. “No, it will be the thing that ties us together for the rest of both of our lives. The family I have always wanted and never truly had.”
My heart aches all over again for the loss of the dream he once held. A dream I had not long ago too. The dream, for me was three children in a home with a big backyard. I longed for two boys and a girl who would know they were the most important thing and I loved them unconditionally. I can’t keep from reaching out to him. When my hand goes to his cheek, he leans down, and his forehead meets mine as his hands grip my head tighter. He’s everything I see, feel, and breathe. Not a single thing in my entire life has felt so right, so perfect, as this moment.
“A woman that wants me and wants to be with me. A woman that wants children the way I do. This started fucked up, it doesn’t have to stay that way. The reason you believe now you could never kill me is because you know you belong to me. Feel it the same as I do. As time goes on, and we learn each other and we have our baby—and hopefully a few more—this will become stronger until you could never bring yourself to hurt me because to do so would hurt you too.”
Longing builds in me even as fear and shame hover at the edge of what he promises. “But you’re only doing this because you don’t want to worry about me killing you. That makes it feel so wrong. I don’t think—”
Blue flashes so dark it’s almost black as his grip on my head tightens. “Don’t fucking think. You had your chance, and you fucked up. This isn’t up to you anymore.”
I pull back. “My life isn’t up to me?”
“No.” The word is hard. “You said it yourself. You walk away from me and you have no idea how the hell you’re going to get from one day to the next. You don’t know. I do. You’re going to have my kids, be my woman, and you’re going to make this a home again. Shit will get hard from time to time as we both adjust. Your place is here with me. Five, ten, twenty years from now, how we started will be a footnote barely worth remembering.”
Holy shit, he really believes it.
“This isn’t up for discussion. This is happening. You can either accept it like a good girl or fight me and piss me off.” God, he reads me like I’m an open book. “Do you really want to walk away from me? Do you really believe you could be happy away from me and the way I make you feel?”
I don’t even have to think. The shake of my head isn’t something I can stop. The very thought of it stings in a way I hadn’t thought possible. “It’s just, you’re making plans I don’t know I can fulfill. I’ve wanted a baby for the last five years and it hasn’t happened. I’m not sure I can take losing another one,” I whisper. I can’t meet his eyes, ashamed of how much of a coward I am.
“Hey,” Tony catches my chin and forces me to look him in the eye. “That was then. This is now. This is with me. You couldn’t have a baby with him because you were never meant to have a baby with him. I’ll give you what he couldn’t. Everything you want and need, I’m going to give to you.”
It’s a promise he seals with a kiss.
As Tony pulls away, I’m dazed. He turns his head. He says something in Italian. I turn to find Dominic watching us, an eyebrow up as he also responds in Italian. I’m going to have to learn the language as of yesterday.
“This is Christy, my woman. She moved in today and will be here from now on.”
Dominic does that exhale laugh thing Tony does as he looks at me intently. “You sure you don’t want me to leave?”
Tony nods as he picks me up and sets me on wobbly legs. A smack of my ass sends me away from him. “Sit,” he orders me. To Dominic, “A scramble okay? Or I have some leftover gnocchi.”
Dominic takes off his suit jacket and puts it across the back of a chair. “Scramble sounds good.”
As I sit down across from Dominic, it’s a little weird how much he looks like his father. Dominic has dimples in both cheeks, while Tony only has one in his right. Their main difference is that Dominic is leaner, still muscular, no doubt. However, his chest isn’t quite as wide. It’s like seeing Tony only almost twenty years younger.
He looks directly at me, “Are you as young as I think you are?” The question is curious, yet there’s a slight edge to it I can’t define.
“I’m thirty as of a few months ago,” I admit. It’s hard not to shrink beneath his hard gaze, but I refuse to. If I do now, he’ll run over me without hesitation. I have no doubt he will anyway but I’m not going to back down at our first meeting.
His eyes run over me. A slight shake of his head. “What are you doing with my father?”
An espresso cup is set down in front of Dominic with a thump and a growl comes out of Tony. I don’t drop my eyes from blue eyes so like Tony’s it’s spooky. “Trying to be happy for the first time in my life.”
I don’t know where the words come from. I was supposed to be a smartass but I see I’ve surprised him as much as I have my self. He picks up the cup and swallows in one smooth movement. Setting the cup down he looks up at Tony then back to me. He shrugs. “I’m not calling someone almost five years younger than me ‘Mom.’ Just getting that out there now.”
Tony slaps the back of his head and says what sounds like a bad word in Italian. “My son, the comedian.”
I blush. “Christy is fine. Thanks.”
His eyes are on Tony behind me. “How long have you been seeing my father?”
This time I blush so badly my head swims a little. A small shrug. “I met him yesterday.”
Blue darkens as he studies me. “You met my father yesterday?”
I nod. I don’t dare say more, too afraid of what might come out.
His hands are steepled in front of him the same way Tony’s were last night. They are so alike, not just in looks but in mannerisms. “My father hasn’t fucked a woman the first day he met her in more than a decade. No woman aside from nonna has ever lived in this house. Maybe two or three have ever spent a night here. What’s so different about you?”
His eyes flick back to mine and hold, not letting me go. I’m trapped in his gaze.
Tony sets a plate down in front of both of us, breaking the scary moment. I look down unseeing at the scrambled eggs, sliced prosciutto, tomatoes, spinach, mushrooms, and goat cheese in a heap—far more than I could hope to eat. A small basket of fresh bread is set down, followed by glasses of orange juice.
Dominic says something in Italian.
Tony responds in English. “She knows, no need to speak Italian. I’ll be teaching her the language soon enough. Milos says he has it under control. His club shot up last night, the same night they hit Emilio indicates otherwise.”
“The Serbians are worse than the Bratva. These bastards have no fucking limits. It’s not enough to let Milos handle it. The longer they breathe air, the tighter they hold onto what they’ve gained.” Dominic shakes his head. “Is what you got last night actionable?”
Sipping his orange juice, Tony nods. “It could be, if we move quickly enough on it. The problem will be in acting on it without making waves the way Johnny wants. He prefers this all be handled by Milos. It’s the reason why we’ve come to an agreement with Milos in the first place. Johnny wants him handling all the Eurotrash. I told him if someone hits us, we hit back, no one else. “
“I was talking with Che the other day. He gave me the name of someone who runs a security contracting company who might be able to help get the information we need and hit them without making waves.” Dominic finishes his orange juice. He gets up and is back again with the container, refilling mine as well as Tony’s before his own glass.
“Cesare has a man?” An eyebrow goes up.
I’m with Tony, surprised that his nephew would have someone like Dominic describes. Then again as a billionaire who runs a real estate—what can only be described as an empire—with his youngest brother Dante maybe it’s not surprising. I would imagine billionaires have different security concerns. All of Tony’s nephews, Cesare, Dante, and Enzo—who ran a billion-dollar hedge fund are notoriously press-shy never giving interviews and keeping their companies private. It didn’t stop the papers in Chicago from splashing them on the front of all the sections they managed to get even a tidbit of a story on the men for: business, lifestyle, and the front page because the men were gorgeous and the story of their parent’s murder-suicide was salacious. The papers loved to point at them as the American dream come true. They were men who made themselves billionaires, starting with next to nothing.
“More like a small army. They have over thirty thousand boots on the ground all over the world. He also has people plugged into operations here in the States. The main guy is a former Ranger. He’s into a hundred different countries and can get about anything you could want or need. Only thing is, his services are not cheap. However, I think he’ll be more than worth it in the end. I want to see what he can do first.” A shrug. “If he can deliver, I’ll go from there.”
“You’re not going to let Johnny in on it.” It’s not a question.
Dominic shakes his head. “He’ll only see I’m going outside the family to handle this. This isn’t about the rules of the family. It’s about protecting us from those that are working to destroy us. Milos is trying too hard to keep his hands clean. They’re dirty. We need to get dirty, too.”
A nod. “You’re not wrong. Be careful the guy isn’t too good to be true. If he can find all that out on others, he can find it out on us. Would he even be willing to work for you?”
“I reached out to him. I’m waiting to hear back. Che thinks he will. The guy has his own code. Doesn’t have a problem coloring outside the lines.”
Carmella comes into the kitchen, greeting Dominic. She asks Tony if he left her anything. Tony tells her he did. When Carmella sits down, I’m surprised at how warm and easy she and Dominic are with each other.
I’m not surprised by how close Tony and Dominic are, I’d heard of it. Seeing it in front of me is something else though. They finish each other’s sentences and communicate without saying a word. How can Tony truly keep what I did, how this all began, from his son? As if Tony can feel my fear, his hand comes down on mine, instantly soothing me. Dominic’s eyes flick over the movement. I see his curiosity, yet he says nothing, and chuckles as Carmella tells him she has the perfect woman for him.
Dominic’s cell phone rings. He glances at Tony as he stands and answers it, walking out of the kitchen as he does. Tony gives my hand a soft squeeze before he gets up and follows Dominic. “I’ll be back.”
***
Tony
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Dominic is ending his call as I enter my office. I close the door and wait for it, making a beeline for my scotch as I do. “Drink?”
“No. That was the guy. He’s willing to take me on as a client, asked for a few days to get me what I need.” His arms are crossed as he studies me. “What the hell is going on?”
I sip my scotch as I settle into a chair by the fireplace. “I found my woman. I didn’t expect it. I sure as fuck wasn’t looking for her, but I’m too fucking old to let her slip through my fingers after all this time.”
“Christ, she’s younger than me. Where the hell did you even find her?”
I consider the question, shrugging I decide to keep as close to the truth as possible. If he asks Vito or Joseph, they’ll tell him. “She came to live and work in the building.”
“Are you serious?” He goes to the scotch and pours a few fingers, swallowing it in one take.
“Calm down. She’s been with one man her entire life. She had no business there. Lisa, one of the women in the building talked her into it.” I shrug.
“Christy has been through some shit. Her husband was a fucker who cheated pretty much their whole marriage. She wanted a baby and lost two she only got through fertility treatments. When she lost the last one, it fucked her up and she lost her nursing job. The woman is intelligent but not street smart. She’s down to fumes and needed a way to support herself.”
Dominic glares at the scotch on the shelf. “You and those damn eighteenth-century writers. This isn’t Jane Austen. I get she’s been through some shit. If I didn’t know you never lie to me, I wouldn’t believe she’s been with one man her whole life. At thirty, that makes her practically a virgin. She has that doe-eyed look to her. You playing savior to someone as messed up as she is could come back worse than how shit went down with Mom.”
I bite my tongue. He doesn’t need to know how I met Christy. It doesn’t mean shit. All that matters is I did. “You really think after all this time and as many women as I’ve had, I don’t know that? This isn’t about saving Christy. It’s about me finally finding my woman. I’m aware the twenty-year age difference and her shitty past means things aren’t going to be easy. Hard hasn’t stopped me before, it’s not going to now.”
Putting his glass down, he sighs as his eyes meet mine. An ache hits me—my boy, my own fucking heart beating outside of my chest. The hell I’ve been through for him. All of it was worth it. I would do it all over again, no hesitation. I need him to accept this, accept Christy as my woman and in my life.
He sighs. “If she is what you want, what you need, I’m not going to do anything but support you. Just because I don’t believe in happily ever after doesn’t mean it can’t happen for you and her. And if it goes sideways, I won’t say I told you so or any obnoxious shit. I’ll be here if you need me.”
“Grazie,” I murmur as I finish my scotch. Smartass.
The little shit chuckles. “I’m going to head into the real estate office. There are some contracts I need to look over and have you sign off on.”
“I’ll be in after a bit.” With me needing to take Christy with me, I’ll wait until he’s gone. I don’t want him wondering why I’m taking her everywhere. Up to now, the time with my mistresses was kept to a carefully maintained part of my day. I went to their place, or we went out for dinner, the theater, and other outings. My time with them was in the evening, I never brought them into the office with me.
“You going to tell me what went down with you and Carlo?” He narrows his eyes on me.
I raise an eyebrow and shake my head, not surprised he heard something happened. Mafia men are worse about gossip than any woman I’ve ever met. I managed to keep me as the go-to hitter from him all this time, I’m not going to tell him now. Out of protection for the designated hitter, they weren’t named beyond the person needing the hit and the Don who approved the hit taking place and named the hitter.
A long time ago, I admitted to him how deep I got into losing myself in bloodlust and killing so many men I lost track and a part of my soul. There was no pride as I told him. It was to prevent him going down the same road I did. If he knew, he’d resent Johnny. I don’t want him to when it was my own damn fault for letting it go so long.
A small nod. “Fine, be that way.”