Pen tugs at her ears. “Sorry, I must be hearing things. What did you just say?”
Esme throws a cushion at Pen. “You heard me, and you also heard me the million times I apologized for ever doubting you and Eric.” Esme smiles, but it’s tinged with sadness. “I’m happy to admit I was wrong and you were right. I envy what you have, Pen. Marriage might not be in the cards for me, but I can see how happy you are. You love your husband and your kids, and you have the career too. You make it look easy, and I’m in awe of you.” She turns to me. “And you too, Sierra. You made the right choices for you and your son, and you’re a fucking amazing mother. No matter what happens with Ben, don’t let him take any of that credit, because it’s all on you.”
“Don’t sell yourself short, Esme,” I reply, fighting a sudden wave of nostalgia. “I know we didn’t talk for a few weeks after I found out I was pregnant, but I always knew your heart was in the right place. You have always had my back, and you came through for me when it counted.”
“And you’re going to be the most successful female lawyer Chicago has ever seen,” Pen loyally adds. “Look at your amazing track record so far. You are the only attorney in your firm who has won every single case. That is freaking incredible, and you deserve it because you work damn hard.”
“To us,” Esme says, raising her glass.
“To us,” we agree, joining in her toast.
* * *
“When will he get here?” Rowan asks the following day for the umpteenth time. I glance at the clock on the wall, fighting the anxiety clawing at my throat.
“Ben should be here any minute now,” I tell him, wiping the kitchen counter down for the tenth time. I barely slept a wink again last night despite the alcohol sloshing through my veins. I’ve been antsy all morning, worried over how this is going to go down.
The bell chimes, and Rowan whoops, racing toward the door. Nausea swims up my throat, and my stomach is twisted into knots as I run after him, grabbing him before he reaches the door. “What did Mommy tell you about opening the door?”
“I am not to open the door on my own, but Mommy, this is different. Ben’s not a stranger. He’s my friend.”
“Firecracker.” I brush strands of his dark hair out of his eyes. “We don’t even know for sure that it’s Ben, which is why you must let Mommy check first.”
He bobs his head, his eyes darting to the door with eagerness.
Butterflies swoop into my chest, and I offer up a silent prayer as I inspect the excited glee on my son’s face. Please God, let this go okay for his sake. While I am still furious at the way Ben has treated me, I am determined to take the moral high ground and act civilized for Rowan’s sake. Clutching my son’s small warm hand, I peer out of my new peephole before opening the door to Ben.
Unlike me, he is the epitome of cool, calm, and collected as he stands on my porch looking hotter than any man has a right to look. He’s ditched the suit for dark jeans, black loafers, and a fitted black shirt that molds to his impressive chest. Like yesterday, he has rolled the shirt sleeves up to his elbows, showcasing his strong tanned arms and a coating of sexy dark hair. A flashy black and silver Patek Philippe watch is strapped to his wrist. When he kneels in front of Rowan, the air swirls around him, blasting his spicy scent in my face. He smells as good as he looks, and I swear my ovaries swoon.
“Hey, Rowan,” Ben says, smiling. “It’s good to see you again.” He lifts his clenched fist, and the second Rowan presses his much smaller knuckle against his father’s, I almost choke on the messy ball of emotion lodged at the back of my throat. Rowan grins, and his blue eyes glow with happiness. Watching them up close like this, the resemblance is so uncanny it blows my mind. They are like carbon copies of one another, and cracks fissure the temporary walls I erected around my heart.
“You wanna see my art studio or see my bugs first?” Rowan asks, grabbing Ben’s hand without hesitation.
Ben straightens up, keeping a firm hold of Rowan’s hand as his glassy eyes meet mine. He looks how I feel, and I’m glad to see it. I’m glad to know that cold veneer he hides behind shields genuine emotion. Right now, he’s feeling the magnitude of this moment as much as I am.
My heart is mincemeat behind my rib cage. A shredded mess barely sustaining my life force. My knees buckle, and I’m seconds away from losing all control.
“Why don’t we start with the art room,” Ben suggests, smiling down at his son. Rowan needs no further encouragement, dragging him forward. Unspoken words pass between Ben and I as Rowan tugs him into the house, chatting away, oblivious to the almost crippling emotion threatening to bring his parents to their knees.
“You go ahead,” I croak, leaning against the wall in the hall. “I’ll be right there.”
Ben glances at me, opening his mouth like he wants to say something, but I shake my head, smiling as I fight tears, urging him to go with his son. He’s used to containing his emotions, so I know he’ll keep it together in a way I’m incapable of.
“I just need a minute,” I mouth.
Leo exchanges some hushed words with Alesso before slipping quietly into the house. He tips his head in acknowledgment at me as he moves past, following Ben and Rowan. A strangled sob escapes my lips the second they turn the corner out of my sight, and I clamp a hand over my aching chest.
“Is everything okay?” Alesso asks, stepping into the hallway.
Tears stream down my face as I offer him a watery smile. I can barely speak over the lump in my throat. “I imagined this sometimes,” I rasp in between choking sobs. “On rare occasions when I indulged stupid fantasies.” I stare at him through blurry eyes, my chest heaving with raw emotion. “But nothing could’ve prepared me for seeing them together.” My heart aches with a mixture of happiness and pain.
Watching Rowan with his father is indescribable. All thoughts of the kind of man Ben is fade from my mind. In this moment, he is just a father meeting his son for the first time, and I’m drowning in wave after wave of self-loathing. “How could I deprive my son of his father? How could I deny Ben all the precious moments he has missed?” I voice the questions out loud even though I’m talking to myself. Right now, I kind of hate myself despite the voice in my ear telling me my motives were pure and it was never my intention to hurt either one of them.
It doesn’t exonerate me though. Like being Rowan’s dad doesn’t exonerate Ben of all the blood on his hands.
I’m a certifiable mess, and my head is anything but clear. My emotions veer like crazy, bouncing from one emotion to the next, as I grapple with what is right and what is wrong. And does it even matter now? It’s not like Ben or I can change the past. The only thing that matters is how we move forward, and I’m determined to do that with my son as the sole priority.
I’m openly crying. That ugly snotty crying no one likes admitting to. But I don’t care that Alesso can see. I’m beyond that point. Alesso looks like a deer caught in the headlights. He has no clue what to do with the blubbering female in front of him. A hysterical laugh cuts between the sobs as I watch his confusion.
Tentatively, he places his hand on my shoulder. “I know you had justifiable reasons, but you should know Ben is a good man, Sierra. He’ll be a good father to Rowan.”
It is not as simple as that, but I nod, unable to explain the confusion fogging my brain. Silent tears roll down my face as I peer into Alesso’s concerned eyes. Out of the corner of my eye, I spot Leo lurking behind the wall that connects the living room to the hallway, and I wonder if he’s been listening this whole time. Right now, I’m too emotional to care. I honestly didn’t think I’d react like this, but it’s no real surprise. My head has been in a tailspin since Friday night.
“Don’t cry,” Alesso adds, wiping my tears away with his thumbs. “You have nothing to fear.”
I clutch his shoulders for support as he continues wiping the tears from under my eyes. “I am afraid,” I whisper, staring into his warm brown eyes. I haven’t even known Alesso forty-eight hou
rs, but there is something solid and steady about him that makes me trust and confide in him. “I’m afraid of everything changing. Afraid of Rowan hating me when he finds out I kept his father from him. Afraid of Ben taking him from me. Afraid of nameless, faceless enemies wanting their pound of Mazzone flesh and coming after me and my son. Afraid that no matter what we do, there is no way to keep Rowan out of the mafia world. He’ll be sucked in, whether we like it or not. I don’t want that life for my son!”
“Ssh. Ssh” Alesso pushes a few stray strands of hair out of my face. “It will be okay. It will all work out. I promise.”
I stare at him, wondering if he truly believes that. If I can believe it. His hand stalls on my cheek, and it’s only now I realize how close we are pressed together and how inappropriate it is.
“What exactly is going on here?” Ben growls, and my eyes widen in alarm as I turn my head. Unrestrained rage shoots from his eyes like laser beams as he stares at Alesso. “Get the fuck away from her right now,” he snaps, approaching like a tsunami hell-bent on destruction.
23
BEN
I can barely see over the red rage blinding my eyes as I stalk toward Sierra and Alessandro. Wisely, he has stepped back, putting distance between them, but I saw enough. Jesus fucking Christ. Has she already cast a spell on him? I know she’s desirable and easy to fall for, but it hasn’t even been a day and a half, and she’s already ensnared my most loyal soldier?
Rowan is in the bathroom, but he won’t be long, so I make this quick. Grabbing Alessandro by the throat, I shove him up against the wall. He doesn’t protest or fight, understanding he is in the wrong. “You are lucky my son is in the house, or I’d put a bullet through your skull.”
“I’m sorry, boss. I was out of line, but it won’t happen again.”
Sierra tugs on my arm. “Let him go. It wasn’t how it seemed. Alesso was only comforting me when I got overwhelmed.”
“Alesso?” I bark, enraged she has a pet name for him already. I squeeze Alessandro’s neck more firmly, enjoying the rasping sounds slipping involuntarily from his mouth.
Leo chuckles, and I whip my head around, glaring at him. I am in no mood for humor.
Sierra tugs on my arm again, and steam is practically billowing from her ears. Her cheeks are splotchy and her eyes are red-rimmed, confirming she has been crying. I tighten my hands around Alessandro’s neck, and his eyes pop wide. “If you hurt her, I’ll—”
The clicking of a weapon cuts me off mid-sentence as a gun is pressed to the back of my head. “We have approximately thirty seconds before Rowan barges out here,” Sierra says. “Let him go or I’ll pull the trigger. Trust me, asshole. I need little incentive.”
My lips twitch as I fight a smile. She won’t pull that trigger—we all know it—but I silently applaud her bravery. My little Firefly always had giant balls, and she loves nothing better than to champion the underdog. I release Alessandro, holding my hands up. Sierra removes the gun, and I turn around in time to see her open a lockbox in a cubby at the top of her hall tree and slip the gun back inside.
She fixes me with a furious expression I’m growing accustomed to. Funny thing is, my dick loves it when she gets mad, and her added feistiness only enhances the appeal. If she were to look down, she would see the evidence of my arousal straining the crotch of my jeans. She plants her hands on her hips, glowering at me, and I’m trying hard not to smirk.
I see so much of the little girl I adored in the woman who intrigues me, and I love that she has retained the essence of who she is. That growing up hasn’t changed her too much. Yet there is an added layer to her fierceness that’s new. Her momma bear instincts are driving her to fight hard for her son, and I respect her so much for that. It helps to know my son was in such capable hands. That he has not been denied love and protection during the years I was unaware of his existence.
“I don’t understand how anyone can work for you with the way you treat people, and you really need to get your temper in check. I won’t let Rowan near you if you don’t learn to control yourself.”
“It’s cute you—”
She clamps her soft hand over my mouth, silencing me, and Leo’s jaw drops. Alessandro is showing no emotion; most likely, he’s afraid to even breathe in her direction now, which suits me just fine.
“I wasn’t finished speaking.” Her expression dares me to challenge her, and I can’t resist. I lick her palm, laughing when she yanks her hand back with a grimace. “I just can’t with you.” She shakes her head, sending waves of smooth straight golden-blonde hair cascading over her shoulders.
My eyes glue to the long silky strands, and my fingers twitch with a craving to touch her. At least she has managed to deflect my anger, but I still don’t know what the fuck was going on out here.
“As I was saying.” Her eyes pin me in place. “Nothing inappropriate happened, but even if it did, it would be none of your business.”
Placing one finger under her chin, I tilt her head back. “That’s where you’re wrong, Firefly. You are mine now, and my soldati know what will happen if they even look funny at you.”
She scoffs, slapping my finger away and flapping her arms about. “I am not yours, you motherfucking—”
“Mommy!” Rowan’s cute little voice commands everyone’s attention. “You said a naughty word!”
My lips twitch as I lean back against the wall. “Yes, Sierra. That’s a very naughty word.”
She purses her lips as I smile. Giving my son my undivided attention, I add, “I think Mommy owes the naughty jar a dollar.”
Rowan’s brow furrows. “We don’t have a naughty jar.” Then his brow smooths out, and his eyes light up. “But we have a naughty step.” Planting his hands on his hips, in a virtual mirror image of his mom a few minutes ago, he waggles his finger at Sierra. “You need a time-out, Mommy.”
“Mommies don’t get time-outs,” Sierra says. “But nice try, Firecracker.”
I press my mouth to her ear, speaking before engaging my brain. “I could put you over my lap and paddle your ass. I think that would be an appropriate punishment.”
Two rose-colored dots bloom on her cheeks, only adding to her beauty. “You are incorrigible.”
“And you’re beautiful when you’re embarrassed and when you’re mad.”
“Ben.” Rowan tugs on the leg of my jeans. “Do you wanna see my garden now? I have bugs, and we have a vegetable garden and a fish pond!”
His eager tone does funny things to my insides, and I kneel so I’m at his level. “I really want to see that, but first I have something for you.”
His trusting blue eyes light up. “What is it?”
I ruffle his hair, and emotion swells in my chest to the point of pain. “Wait here and I’ll be right back.”
Leo comes outside with me. “It wasn’t intentional,” he says, as we walk to the Merc. “Sierra got emotional when she saw you with Rowan, and Alessandro was only trying to comfort her.”
“But?” I ask, hearing one, as I pop the trunk and remove the larger of the two boxes.
“They’re the same age. She’s beautiful. He lives like a monk. Now you’ve thrust them together, and they’ll be spending a ton of time with each other.” He shrugs.
“She is going to be my wife,” I hiss, shoving the smaller box at his chest. “And if he can’t keep his dick in his pants, I’ll chop it off and solve the problem.”
“Wow. She really has you all worked up.”
I slam the trunk down with unnecessary force, hating he’s right. I need to get a grip. I’m not acting like myself at all. “Shit.” I rub a tense spot in my chest.
“If it helps, she appears to be struggling in the same way, and she seems somewhat remorseful.”
I lean back against the car for a minute, not wanting to take too long when I know Rowan is waiting. “Being back in Chicago and being around Sierra again has brought a lot of memories and emotions to the surface. I’ve spent so long not thinking about my past, tryi
ng to forget about Vegas, and focusing on building the business and taking care of my father that I don’t know how to deal with this. I’m not sure I’m equipped to handle the onslaught of things I’m feeling.”
The first few years in New York I battled to hold on to the man I was until I realized I had to let him go or I wouldn’t survive the cutthroat reality of my new world. Now, I’m wondering if I subconsciously maintained some of my previous persona, because it feels like I’m straddling a line between the man I was and the man I am now, and I have no clue which side I’ll land on. It feels like I’m losing myself again, and that can’t happen. There is too much resting on me, and I need to regain my control.
“It’s okay to feel, Ben. You can feel and still be in control,” Leo says, proving he knows me so well.
“Not in our line of work.” I push off the car and walk toward the door. “I can’t let my guard down. Not even for a woman I know I could love and a little boy I already do.”
* * *
Rowan loves his telescope and the new insect tank I bought him. We spend an hour in the garden before Sierra cooks an early dinner, and then I have to leave for my flight. Rowan hugs me when we are saying goodbye, bending another few bars of the steel cage surrounding my heart. Leaving was more difficult than I imagined, but I’m grateful I have the work week ahead of me. I plan to use the time to deal with everything that has happened and to get my errant emotions in check.
It’s after nine when I arrive at my penthouse apartment in Manhattan with Ciro, my new bodyguard, in tow. He retreats to the apartment below, leaving Leo and me alone in my home office. “Do you think your little chat with Alessandro will work?” he asks as I pour a bourbon for me and a scotch for him.
“Alessandro is a good soldier with a promising future. He won’t fuck it up.”
“Maybe you should send Ciro to Chicago instead?” Leo suggests, swirling the amber-colored liquid in his glass before he takes a sip.
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