Dark: A Bad Boy Secret Baby Romance (Citrione Crime Family)

by Penelope Bloom

  “Mommy, who’s that?” asks Roman.

  His innocent little voice is like a knife in my stomach. Oh God. Why didn’t I get Roman inside the apartment first? What is Leo going to think when he sees that I have a child? Will he know it’s his? Will he care? I swallow hard, watching Leo’s eyes fall to Roman and narrow. He recovers quickly, kneeling and smiling at Roman.

  “Hey bud, I’m your new neighbor.”

  Roman rushes toward Leo, making my heart jump. His little hand is raised for a high-five. It’s his favorite thing to do with people.

  Leo gently slaps his hand.

  “Nice one!” says Leo. “Try this.” He holds out his tattooed hand in a fist and takes Roman’s wrist and guides Roman into a fist-bump.

  Roman looks in astonishment at his little fist, like Leo just taught him the secret of making fire. I have to keep from rolling my eyes. Really? I teach the kid the English language, how to eat, how rainbows work, and he’s more amazed by smashing his fist into someone else’s fist? It still makes me grin seeing him like this with someone. I’ve never seen him take to a man so quickly before. The only men he’s ever really had a chance to interact with are some of the older guys who live in the apartment and Lauren’s husband, who never has time to play with him.

  Roman sticks his finger out at Leo’s hand, where “TRUST” is spelled out above the knuckles on his right hand. “Why did you write on yourself?” he asks.

  Leo looks at his hand. “Because I wanted to make sure I always remembered what’s important.”

  Roman giggles. “That’s silly.”

  Leo gives him a serious look. “It’s never silly to find what you believe in, bud. A man has to stand for something, and once he knows what that is, he has to stick by it. That’s what makes him a man.”

  Roman looks thoughtful and then turns to me. “Mommy. Can you write on my fingers?”

  Leo and I both laugh, smiling at eachother for a split second before I remember who he is and what he did to me. My face hardens, and I take Roman by the shoulders, pulling him back. “Yes. As soon as you eat your dinner. Why don’t you go ahead inside and get your hands washed.”

  “But I want to talk to Mr. Leo more.”

  “Mr. Leo made sure we will have to talk to him more when he decided to move in next door, honey. Go inside please.”

  Roman gives me his best pouting face but goes inside. Instead of hearing the faucet, I hear him rummaging through the drawer where I keep the sharpies and markers. Great.

  I lower my voice. “What do you think you’re doing?” I ask.

  Leo folds his arms, face hard and unapologetic. “I’m back in town. I needed a place. Coincidence, I guess. Cute kid.”

  My temper flares even more when he mentions Roman. “You stay away from him.”

  “Who’s the father?” asks Leo.

  “His father was an asshole,” I say. “It doesn’t matter anymore.”

  Leo’s phone buzzes in his pocket and he pulls it out, answering. “Yeah? Okay. Be right there.” He hangs up and then grins at me. “Don’t wait up for me, I’ll be back late.” Without so much as a backward glance, he walks past me and heads down the stairs.

  I stand in place, fuming, thinking about yelling after him to ask why he went out of his way to rent the apartment next door to mine, but I hold my tongue. How conceited would I look if I assumed he actually went to the trouble of renting a place just to live next door to me? But there’s no way. He’s up to something, and I have a pretty good idea what it is. I just wish I could press some magical button to turn off my attraction towards him. This would be so much easier if I could.

  More than that, I wish I knew what was best for Roman. Seeing the way Leo interacted with him was more than a little surprising. I would have pictured him being cold and disinterested around children, but he was really sweet with him. As much as I try, I can’t help picturing the three of us eating dinner together while Leo ruffles Roman’s hair and tells him some inappropriate joke. The thought makes me grin. I did see a softer side to Leo all those years back when we were in the restaurant. I felt like there was another side of him, waiting to open up if I only found the right words.

  Once I’ve calmed down, I step inside to find Roman sitting cross-legged while he writes on his fingers. I kneel down. “Honey, that’s a sharpie. It doesn’t come off easily.” Each finger has a wobbly squiggle on it that I know is supposed to be a letter. “What does this one say?” I ask, pointing to his right hand.

  “Eggo,” he says proudly.

  I smirk. “And this one?” I point to the other one.

  “It says Leo.”

  17

  Leo

  I left early in the morning, before I heard any activity in Julia’s apartment through the walls. I was surprised by how much sound passes through the thin walls, but I drew the line at pressing my ear to it and listening. Overprotective, maybe, but I’m not a creep. Now, if she invites some asshole over to her place, I might have to break that rule to figure out when I need to knock and interrupt them. It’s a random thought, but it twists my gut. She has moved on. The longing I’ve felt for her is one-sided. She has a fucking kid. I’d be an idiot if I didn’t at least consider the possibility that it’s mine. The age would be about right, but I have no idea what she did after I left. For all I know she had wild, unprotected rebound sex the night I left. Could I blame her?

  Fuck. I clench my fists, wanting to hit something. She’s within her rights to fuck whoever she wants now, she always has been, but that doesn’t stop me from wanting to break something.

  I think back to how I felt when I was talking to Roman. I’ve never had a connection with little kids before, but I guess knowing he was hers made me want to do whatever I could to protect him, to help make him into a strong young man, to be there for him. Not your job, Leo. The kid might have looked like me a little, but I feel like that’s a stretch. All I really see in him is Julia. Then again, I’ve been seeing her everywhere since I walked away four years ago.

  I park my car outside Angelo’s new place. He’s staying in a nice apartment the Bianchis put him up in. Four bedrooms, two baths, and the guy doesn’t even own a fucking cat. He’s on the fourth floor, and I find him sitting in a fold-out chair, throwing a baseball against the brick wall. His eyes find me but he shows no reaction.

  “Where you been?” he asks. “Almost 24 hours I’ve been here and you haven’t so much as called. Were you off chasing that pussy?”

  “The fuck are you doing?” I ask. “Go get a couch or some shit. You look like a crazy person, Angelo.” I realize what a hypocrite I am a second later. The place I rented beside Julia’s is equally bare.

  He looks around, as if noticing for the first time. “Yeah, Carlito was going to meet up with me to go check some things out, but he flaked on me.”

  “You surprised?”

  Angelo palms the baseball, picking at the stitches. “Nah. Not anymore.” He tosses the ball in the air, following it intently with his eyes. He purses his lips. “Maybe. Maybe I’m a little surprised. I thought coming back here and getting back in our old life would help him clean up. But it’s just the same shit.”

  I move to the wall across from him and slide down, sitting on the ground. “You know what people do when they’re drowning? They’ll grab at any fucking thing they can to keep afloat. Once it reaches a certain point, there’s no thought to it. It’s just survival. They’ll take you down with them in a heartbeat. They’ll fucking hold you under just so they can push off you and get a few more breaths.” I meet his eyes and don’t look away until he nods slowly, proving he understands.

  Angelo thinks for a long moment. “And what if he’s not drowning yet? You know? What if he’s still swimming toward the deep end.”

  “We had to kill two people because of his drug deal the other night, and he didn’t even bat an eyelash.”

  “I’ve seen you kill plenty of people in the last few years, man. You never seem too bothered by it.” There’s
a question in his eye, like it’s something he’s been meaning to ask. How do you do it? How do you not let it get to you?

  I feel a swelling of emotion toward my little brother. How did I not see how badly he needed my help before? “I’ve been shitty to you…”

  He frowns, confused. “Since when? You went to jail for me. You spent four years on the run because of me.”

  It’s the first time he’s come close to apologizing, but I wasn’t waiting for it. He doesn’t need to apologize to me. He’s a man who makes his own decisions just like I am. If I had chosen to let him clean up this mess on his own he would’ve accepted that, no question.

  “Being a good brother is more than just hitting anybody who tries to hurt you.” I shake my head, searching for the words. “Look. I don’t want you thinking killing people doesn’t get to me. You know what I think about every night before I go to sleep? I think about how every life is like a web. You don’t just snuff one person out of existence and that’s that. People have wives, kids, parents, grandparents, aunts, uncles, friends, all that shit. One dead person and a whole boat load of fucked up lives. That’s what I think about.”

  “I just think about what it must be like. The moment you know it’s over. You know? I mean sometimes it’s quick. Get them in the right spot in the head and they go down before they know what happened, but not always. Shit, remember the guy in Hillsboro? I thought he was never going to stop bleeding and coughing.” Angelo laughs, but it’s a hollow sound, and his eyes are distant, brows drawn together. “Just makes you wonder what that’s like. You’re sitting there bleeding your guts out and knowing it’s all over. Everything you spent so much energy caring about doesn’t matter anymore. Gets me to start thinking about how it’s going to be us one day.”

  I move to him and clap him on the shoulder, yanking him up so I can hug him. “That shit’s normal, bud. You’re supposed to think about that. I should’ve told you that when we got into this business, but I’m telling you now. Killing people isn’t something the human mind was made to accept. If this wasn’t getting to you, I’d be worried. Okay?” I pull back, holding him at arm’s length and searching his face. “Okay?”

  He nods, but doesn’t meet my eye. “Yeah. Thanks, bro.”

  18

  Julia

  A few minutes after I put Roman to bed, there’s a knock at my door. I look through the peephole and curse under my breath when I see who it is. It’s Leo. He’s holding a pizza box and even through the distorted fisheye peephole, he looks absolutely gorgeous. I unlatch the locks and open the door.

  “What are you doing?” I ask. I notice the box is from Lenny’s Pizzeria, my favorite.

  He steps inside without waiting for an invitation, rummaging through my cabinets for plates. “Thought we could catch up. You like pizza?”

  “Shhh!” I hiss as he bangs a cabinet door closed and practically slams two plates on the countertop. “Roman is sleeping.”

  Leo winces, holding up his palms defensively. “Won’t happen again, ma’am.”

  I cross my arms, glaring at him. “What if I say no? What if I tell you to take your stupid pizza and leave?”

  “Then I’ll leave. You just give the word and I’ll go.” He steps closer to me until I can smell his cologne and feel the heat radiating from his perfectly muscled body. “I’ll walk away and you’ll be left wondering what tonight could have been like if you’d have let me stay.”

  I clear my throat, moving past him to the counter and opening the box. Cheese pizza with black olives. How the hell does he know that’s my favorite? I plant a fist on my hip, hesitating. “You and your stupid pizza can stay, for now, but only because you just happened to get my favorite.”

  “Yeah?” he asks, plating a few slices for me and then himself. “Guess we’re soulmates. I just got it because it’s my favorite, too. Have any booze?”

  “Over there,” I say, pointing to a cabinet too high for Roman to reach.

  “Nice, this’ll do,” he says, pulling out a bottle of Cab. He pours us each a glass and looks around. “Have any card games?”

  I frown. “I have Uno…”

  “No shit! I fucking love Uno.”

  I stifle a laugh.

  “What?” he asks, rooting through the drawers to look for the game.

  “It’s just the image of a guy like you playing Uno is a little funny.”

  He sips his wine, smirking at me as he finds the box and pulls it free. “A guy like me?”

  I shrug. “You know. A tough guy? A bad boy? I don’t know what the hip term is for it anymore.”

  He moves close, smoothly moving his hand behind my back and catching my eyes with his. “There is a name for guys like me.” I think he’s about to kiss me, and then his unbelievable lips split into a grin. “Uno Master.”

  A few glasses of wine later, I’m staring at the last two cards in my hand while Leo holds five. He’s glaring at me over his hand, hilariously pissed that he’s losing. I’ve had one too many glasses of wine and feel constantly on the urge of bursting into uncontrolled giggles. I play a card.

  “Draw two!” I say, giggling.

  He fumes, pulling two cards and adding them to his hand. I realize my mistake right as he does. I only have one card left in my hand and I forgot to yell “Uno”. He leans forward on the table jabbing a finger toward me.

  “U—” I start.

  “Uno!” he yells over me. “Fucking Uno! Draw two cards, do not pass go, go to jail.”

  I laugh so hard I snort as I draw two cards. “That’s definitely not the right phrase.”

  I’m forced to watch in dismay as Mr. Uno Master slowly picks me apart, adding more and more cards to my hand while thinning his. When he finally says Uno, he looks so pleased with himself I burst out laughing.

  “Congratulations. You beat me at a kid’s game.”

  He looks smug. “My condolences. You lost at a kid’s game.”

  I try to swat at him, but he catches my wrist over the table, meeting my eyes. The moment passes when I giggle again, leaning forward helplessly. I’ve always been a silly drunk, which is why I’m normally way more careful about drinking in front of people. I think he’s about to kiss me when Roman walks out from his bedroom, rubbing his eyes.

  “Mommy, I heard a noise.” He notices Leo and the sleepiness evaporates from his face. “Mr. Leo!”

  “Was just leaving,” says Leo graciously. He ruffles Roman’s hair and gives him a quick fist bump before looking at me, biting his lip. “You know where to find me.”

  19

  Leo

  There’s a knock at my door. It’s four in the afternoon, but I’m tired as hell. Tensions between the biggest families in Jersey reached a boiling point while we were gone. The Capobiancos have moved their operation from Chicago and set up shop in Jersey. They managed to get a squeeze on the entire dockyard shipping industry, and if rumors are true, they might be pulling in more cash than even the Morettis are with the shit they are selling to Mexican cartels. That leaves the Bianchis, who have basically been shafted in the whole deal. The other families just see them as mad dogs, too stupid to handle any kind of delicate operation, and it’s true. Not for the first time, I wish I could go back in time and drag Angelo away from these idiots by the scruff of his neck.

  When I’ve been working, I’ve managed to get someone to keep an eye on Julia’s apartment for me. When I’m here, I can’t seem to make myself sleep. I wake at the slightest noise or footstep in the hallway, thinking it could be a Moretti coming after Julia and her son. I think about her, and the few times I’ve been with her. I feel a little crazy when I realize how much I care about this woman I’ve probably only spent a few hours with. But fuck it. I know what I want, and I want her.

  Someone bangs on the door again, louder this time.

  I rub the sleep from my eyes, squinting against the bright sun outside as I move to open the door. Julia stands in the doorway, arms crossed, eyes unsteadily darting from me to the apartment b
ehind me and down my bare chest.

  “You...” she starts, and then she frowns when she takes in the whole picture. “What are you doing, sleeping on the ground?”

  I glance at the bare floor behind me. I moved into the place three days ago now, but haven’t had time to get furniture. “Pretty much. If you came over here for a booty call, I could see if the landlord has a blanket we can borrow.”

  She makes no sign of even hearing me as her eyes dart down my bare chest and stomach, falling on my briefs. “You’re just walking around in your underwear in the middle of the afternoon?”

  “You complaining?” A smirk creases my face.

  She bites her lip. “I’m not doing this with you. I had to ask my friend to watch Roman for tonight because I need to know what you’re doing. What is this? Why are you here?”

  “I’m here for you,” I say.

  She shakes her head. “Well you’re about four years late for that.”

  I wince, knowing I deserve it. I still can’t help smiling a little when I see her face. “You know you do this thing with your nose when you’re pissed. Just a little wiggle. But you do it when you’re horny, too.”

  Her nose wiggles just slightly, and then her cheeks burn red.

  I laugh. “See? I can’t figure out if you want to fuck me or deck me.”

  She sighs, letting her defenses fall a little as she grins. “So I’m not the only one trying to figure that out?”

  I see the heat in her eyes, the way she takes me in. She wants to, I know she does. I’ve always been tuned in to women’s desires. I can see them so clearly they might as well appear in bright red letters on their foreheads. Right now hers would say “fuck me.” A few more words, a touch, a whisper, and she’d be mine. But would it last? That’s the real question. As much as I burn with a desire to take her again, I know she needs more than that. If I give in and take her now, I’ll just be what she thinks I am. That’s not enough. I need to show her I’m more, to show her I’m capable of being in her son’s life, of taking care of her.