Daddy
She doesn’t want to tell me. She’s doesn’t want me to know all of her. Too bad, babygirl. That’s not how daddies work. I want to know all of her. Every little bit.
She won’t answer me.
I look over the park. The lights of the city draw my eye. It’s a beautiful night.
I’ll let her off the hook.
I don’t want to ruin this moment for her. I just want to be close to her.
“You don’t want to tell me. I understand.” I lean forward, dropping my voice to a whisper. “But know this. One day, you’ll tell me.” Everything.
Her teeth sink into her bottom lip. She nods, grateful I’m dropping the subject.
I nod to her plate. “Eat some more. Please?”
“That’s the kind of thing women dream a man will say,” she laughs. She smiles at me. And it’s real.
She has another bite of potatoes.
After our meal, she falls into the bed, exhausted from our travels and the excitement of the day. We’d napped for a few hours earlier, but jetlag still has her tired. She wraps her body around mine, sleeping deeply against my chest. I wrap my arm around her shoulders, loving the weight of her against me. I normally toss and turn.
Now I sleep like a baby.
We spend the next morning walking in the park. We get espressos and pastries from a little French café on the corner. I can’t do the proper English breakfast. Tomatoes and baked beans are not morning foods. She takes pictures on her phone as we explore.
She gives me a shy glance. “Can I take a picture of us?” she asks.
“Why not?” I wrap my arm around her shoulders.
She points her camera at our faces. I’m quite a bit taller than her. “Here.” I take the phone, holding it out. I center our faces in the screen, the rose gardens behind us.
My very first selfie…god, that sounds ridiculous. I snap the picture, glancing down at the screen.
We look good together.
Really good together.
Sure there’s a little silver hair at my temples and smile lines crinkling at my eyes where her flawless skin is smooth…I’m old enough to be her father. Well, her young father. I’d have to have had her when I was about nineteen. What was I even doing when I was nineteen?
Starting my own business. Serial dating in the city. Wining and dining the New York royalty to garner investors. Basically, the furthest thing from fatherhood.
She leans up on the tips of her toes, kissing my cheek. “Thank you. I love it.”
Her fingers fly over her screen and a moment later, there we are, the two of us as the background on her lock screen.
In her world, that makes us official. Doesn’t it? She and I, my arms around her, the two of us decorating her most important possession, her lifeline, her phone.
She slips her phone into her back pocket. The jeans Ashely bought her hug her ass in the most amazing way. I’ll have to give my assistant a bonus.
I know it probably wasn’t easy for Ashely to have to buy things for Reece. Ashely tries to hide it, but I know she has feelings for me. I write it off as an innocent crush that any employee might get on a boss.
But I draw a hard line in the sand about that.
I am your boss.
You are my employee.
And nothing will ever happen between us.
Sending Ashely to Reece’s apartment only served to strengthen my message. Seriously, I couldn’t function without Ashely but I’ve been hinting to her that it might be in her best interest to find a new employer.
She politely declined.
Ashely’s harmless. I’m sure of it. There’s just a bit of underlying unease that prickles up in her gaze whenever Reece’s name comes up.
I tighten my arms around Reece as we look over the Round Pond, watching the white swans glide over the water. Ashely’s going to have to get used to me talking about Reece if she wants to stay.
Reece isn’t going anywhere.
I bury my face into her hair, kissing the top of her head.
She sighs, leaning her back against my chest, snuggling deeper into my arms.
I think of her face at dinner, when I asked about her past. What is she hiding? What is she not telling me? And what will I do when I find out?
I won’t leave her. That’s for damn sure. Her past is just that. Her past.
I’m her future.
Still, there’s a nagging voice in the back of my mind and it won’t quit asking me what I don’t know about her, what information was left out of that report I first ran on her.
Probably because I'm hiding my own secrets.
My phone rings, breaking the magic of our perfect moment. Fuck. I do not want to answer it. I slip the phone from my pocket. It’s Rockland, the head of the family. My pulse quickens. He only calls me directly if something’s gone wrong.
What does he want?
“Sorry, baby. I’ve got to take this. Hang tight.” I hate to leave her, even for a moment. I walk a few steps away to where I’m out of her earshot but I can still keep a close eye on her.
I clear my throat. “Rockland. How are you?”
“Bryant. I’m well. I heard you made it to London.”
“I did.”
“With cargo in tow?”
“Yes.” I give a chuckle. Word travels fast in this family. “Precious cargo.”
“Nice. Tess’s been on me to set you up for years. I’m glad you finally found someone that grabbed your interest.” His voice dips as he dives right into business. “Have you got our little problem under control yet?”
"I've been..." I think of Reece’s body on mine, of our rooftop date, our lazy morning. "Getting settled. Not yet. But it will be. Soon.”
“The family is counting on you.”
“I know. It’ll be taken care of.”
Before Reece, the family was my only concern. My throat feels tight as I watch her. She's smiling at the ducks as they bathe.
Now she feels just as important to me as the family.
And she’s never even heard of us. The Bachman Brotherhood. A powerful secret society running the city from behind closed doors. And I can’t tell her a thing about us.
The tattoo she’s so curious about was inked on me after my grueling initiation.
I’m a ground guy, our little nickname for family members who remain in the real world after initiation, undercover, running a legit business while making contacts around the world. No one outside the family knows I’m a Bachman.
And I can never tell Reece. Ever.
Unless…
There is one condition.
There’s only one reason I would ever be able to tell her who I really am.
If she were to join the family.
And there’s only one way for a woman to join the family.
Through marriage to one of us.
If she were to be my wife, I could tell her everything.
My thoughts unsettle me and excite me all at once. I’ve never had these thoughts before her. But Reece is so special, my bright little star. She shines. She brings light to my darkness. I watch her as she looks over her shoulder, offering me a sweet smile and a wave, a little delicate waggle of her pretty fingers. God, she’s so beautiful. Looking at her strikes a bolt of longing in the center of my chest.
Here I am, wondering about her past when she has no idea who I even am.
Is it fair to her? To pull her further into her own game? Sure, she started this whole stalker nonsense to get her key, but I’m the one who upped the stakes.
I’m the one that made her mine.
And now, she doesn’t even know what that means.
I’ve got business to deal with. There’s a task before me the family is expecting me to complete. That’s why I’m in London. I need to remember that fact. I need to focus.
But she’s swiping her hair from her face as it blows in the wind, running the tip of her tongue over her glossy lips…
Just begging me to kiss her.
My phone burns hot in my pocket. The boss doesn’t call unless he’s unhappy. And I know better than to keep the boss unhappy.
I’ve got to get to work.
Which means…I have to leave her. If my eyes aren’t on her, then someone else’s should be.
Ashley’s in town. She always travels with me. Well, not with me—I fly private, she flies commercial then does her thing on my dime—shopping mostly—but is on standby 24/7 should I need her.
Of course, I buy her first-class tickets, put her up in a lush hotel, but I don’t invite her on my jet and we stay different places. It’s best to keep boundaries with your employees. Especially younger female employees that may have feelings for you. Sure, I’m corrupt when it comes to my private life, taking my taboo, forbidden, barely-legal babygirl into my bed.
When it comes to work?
I don’t fuck around where I make my money.
And I make a hell of a lot more money now that I’m a Bachman. And I fucking love my chosen family. So let’s keep Rockland happy.
I move to her, sliding my hands around her waist, pulling her in close. “Sorry about that, babygirl.” I breathe in her scent, feel the softness of her hair against my chin.
“Who was that?” She tilts her face up toward me, meeting my eye. The smile she gives me makes me want to give her the world. “On the phone?”
“Work.” I push my hand against her lower back, pressing her lithe body into mine. “You’re so fucking beautiful and sexy, you’ve had me distracted. Now, unfortunately, I’ve got to get some work done.”
I’ve got to accomplish what I came here to do.
“Aw…” She gives a pretty pout. “I wanted to play some more.”
I kiss the top of her head. “We will, kitten. I promise. Listen, I don’t want you alone. Not in a strange city. I’ve got someone here. She can take you shopping, take you to see any sights you want to hit, or hell, together you can just eat your way through the city. She’s got my black AMEX and there’s no spending limit. Do whatever you’d like.”
“Thanks. But…” Her nose crinkles like she already knows the answer to the question she’s about to ask, and she doesn’t like it, “Who’s taking me?”
I force a brightness in my tone like it’s the greatest match in the world. “Ashely! She’s great. You’re going to love getting to know her better. She knows all the shops that women your age—”
“Women my age?” She lifts a brow. “I’m not that much younger than you. Only a decade or two. And I’ll be fine on my own.”
My hand goes from her waist to her ass. “I’m the daddy. And what I say goes. And I don’t want you alone. You don’t speak the language. Ashely can translate,” I joke.
“It’s true,” she laughs. “I still have no idea what anyone is saying.”
“If I can’t be with you, I trust Ashely.” I give her ass a discreet squeeze, letting her know it’s not up for debate.
She gives a sigh of defeat. “Okay. But I’ll miss you.” She pouts, begging for a kiss.
I kiss her, sliding a hand along the back of her neck. “Be a good girl for daddy.”
I love watching that blush bloom on her face.
“Yes, daddy.” She rises on tiptoe, kissing my cheek.
An hour later, Ashely and Reece are marching down Oxford Street, my credit card in hand. Reece says something that makes Ashely laugh. Ashely smiles, putting her hand on Reece’s shoulder. Ashely glances back at me, knowing me well enough to know I’m watching them. She gives me a smile that’s meant to reassure me, to tell me that she’s got this.
That she’s got Reece.
But the smile stops just below her eyes, leaving me feeling uneasy. The hairs on the back of my neck stand on end. I rub them away with my hand. I’m being silly…overprotective.
Reece does this to me.
I give Ashely a wave. I have no choice but to trust her. I’ve got work to do.
I could call a car but I choose to walk. I need to clear my head. Being with Reece has me all kinds of cloudy. For the past twenty-four hours, all I’ve thought about is her.
It’s time to think about family.
Of course, even that idea makes me think of her…of how this whole twisted secret in my life would be so much easier if she just knew the truth.
If…she was my wife.
Moving too fast?
Hell. I do everything fast. Except pleasing my woman.
That I take my time with.
Still, she’d make a hell of a Beauty.
Beauty—that’s what we call our women in the Bachman family. We treat them like queens. We’d lay down our lives for them if we needed to. The Bachman family is a secret brotherhood of powerful men who tend to look at the law as more of a gray matter than black and white. We take what we want. When we want it.
And as far as NYC goes? We rule the city. Our headquarters are a hidden, secure, town. A place we’ve named the Village. It’s surrounded by brownstone buildings housing businesses that we own. Almost like the castle walls forming a bailey.
Since I’m undercover as Bryant Long instead of Bryant Bachman, I’m housed at The West. The most desirable apartment building in Manhattan. Also owned by the family. My townhome in the Village is vacant, waiting for my return.
Who knows when that will be? Right now the family needs me right where I am. Today, I’m in London because there’s a man here. One who wants to threaten us. I don’t take well to threats. Neither does Rockland. That’s why he sent me here.
The man’s name is Frank Graham, known to some as Frankie. He’s a shipping merchant. Someone who can help us get our arms to our storage facility in Greece. We own a private island there called The Parish. It’s where we store our weaponry.
We did the background checks. Questioned every damn businessman in this city. Frankie came up clean. A man who would keep his mouth shut. But now, we’re hearing whispers…words that could damn a man.
Some say he’s tipped off others to what we’re shipping. Pirates who stand to gain from terrorizing the open seas. Men who embrace violence. Men who could overtake a barge of automatic rifles.
Money. Power. Both are involved. And both will make men do foolish things.
Frankie is waiting for me in the place we agreed to meet. A quiet bar on the corner of Market and Great Castle. He’s sipping on one of those dark English beers. I can tell by the condensation-less glass it's room temperature.
I prefer my beer the way it should be, ice cold.
He’s a thin man. Tall with a blondish mustache I suppose he thinks makes him look distinguished. I move to his side. I stand, towering over him.
“Frankie.”
A grimace washes over his face at the sound of a nickname he doesn’t like.
“Mr. Long. Long time, no see.” He takes a drag of his beer. “No pun intended.”
I nod towards the rear exit. “Walk with me.”
He eyes me, then the beer. He doesn’t want to leave the beer. And he certainly doesn’t want to leave with me.
I lift the glass. Hold it up in the air. Tip it upside down, pouring the dark liquid over his lap.
His bloodshot eyes go wide. “Mate! What are you doing?”
I set the empty glass down. “Walk with me,” I repeat.
A sheen of perspiration dots his upper lip as he stares up at me. His words come in a stutter. “Al—alright then. Hold your horses. I’m coming.” His gaze skitters right to left like he’s looking for his own horse to ride right out of town.
He throws a ten-pound note on the table and follows me out to the alley.
It’s quiet out here. Dark, the sun partially blocked out by the height of the buildings. Frank wraps his arms around himself as if there’s a chill in the air. There’s not. He knows what’s coming.
His lips tremble as he speaks. “Look, mate. I know why you’re here. And I have to tell you—you’ve got me all wrong. I’m not the one who tipped off the pirates, I’m—”
“I never even said why I’m here.” I grab his collar, pulling him close enough I can smell the stench of his alcohol-laced breath. “And that’s all the evidence I need.”
“For what?” he asks, shaking in my grasp.
“For this.” The knife slides from my pocket. It’s so sharp, it glides through his artery like it’s gliding through a stick of butter.
He stares at me, grasping at me for life. Clutching at me while the gurgling sounds fill my ears. I release him. He falls to the cement ground. I watch as a pool of red surrounds him. The knife, I wipe clean of my prints, leaving it in his hand.
Stopping in the Mandarin lobby, I wash my hands. A dozen times. I return to the hotel room. After an event like this, I can never quite feel clean. As soon as I push the door to our room open, I know by the silence that there’s no one here.
Damn. Where is she?
Grabbing my phone I dial her number.
No answer.
Fuck.
I call Ashely. She doesn’t pick up. She’s never, ever, not picked up my call before.
The hairs on the back of my neck go on end again. Should I have trusted Ashely? Could she have done something to Reece? Have I misjudged what I thought was a harmless crush from Ashely?
I’m crazy. Right?
Just coming down off what happened in the alleyway. I’m overreacting. I take a deep breath.
I text Reece.
Where are you
Call me
Now
No answer.
I slam the phone down.