His Secret Baby (A Bad Boy Romance)

by Waltz, Vanessa

  He squeals as he recognizes me and crawls out of her lap. I struggle to reorient myself as Violet reaches forward, snatching him back. He cries and climbs out of her lap, and she lets out a little scream of frustration.

  “Stop it!”

  I look around the nursery for a weapon, seizing a child’s block as the sound of the fight continues in the other room. She scoops up Daniel and drops him into the crib, which still holds the doll. For a moment she stares at them both, dazed.

  “Violet, it’s over. Give me Daniel, and maybe I can stop Thane from killing you.”

  Actually, I think I’ll just let him kill you.

  She seems to snap out of her trance, looking at me as though I’m some kind of unpleasant vermin she needs to dispose of.

  “Please!”

  Bam!

  The shot rings through the apartment, followed by the loud thump of a body. My heart beats wildly, and for one horrible moment I’m not sure who won the fight.

  Daniel cries for me, and I manage to sit up, slipping my fingers through the bars of the crib. Violet slashes at my hand, and blood sprays over the carpet as I let go of the bars in a yell of pain. My back hits the floor as Violet climbs over me and slashes again, but I catch the blade with my hands to protect my throat. The sharp edge digs, slicing past muscle and sinew. I scream as she bears down on me, blood making the blade slip. I can’t hold her off.

  Then a hand seizes the back of Violet’s hair and yanks her so hard that her hands fly from my throat. I curl over my searing hands as blood pools in my palm from the nasty gash. Violet lands on her back, her head smacking hard into the floor as my husband kneels beside me, wrapping his arm around my back.

  “Are you okay?”

  I’m pretty fucking far from okay.

  “I’m fine—get her!”

  Thane stands to his feet, aiming the gun at her forehead as she shakes her head violently, still clutching the bloody knife.

  “No! No, don’t!”

  I thought he was scary when he was fighting Pierce, but this is something else.

  He grabs her bun so that it falls into a black, tangled mess around her head, and he arches her head back.

  “Why the fuck did you do it? Why did you kill your husband?”

  Violet looks as though she’s having some sort of seizure, and when she speaks, she screams in the sort of voice that shakes the walls. “I don’t know what you’re talking about!”

  “That bloodstain in your apartment. How the fuck did that happen?”

  She wraps her arms around her legs, rocking slightly as she mutters to herself. Losing patience, he digs the gun into her skull.

  “He told me we’d never have a baby—that I couldn’t have a baby!” Then suddenly her lips pull into a snarl. “I hate this place! You made me a fucking whore! You stole my son away from me, so I wanted to take everyone’s kids away from them.”

  “You’re sick.”

  “And you’re a shit father.”

  She suddenly swings her arm in a wide arc, stabbing into Thane’s leg, and then there’s a male yell and a deafening boom. Thane’s nozzle kisses her temple as blood vomits out the back of her head. The spray of red falls gently like mist. She hovers on her knees for a few seconds before falling back, a neat black hole burned into her forehead.

  Thane staggers, and I scream over the baby’s noise. “Are you hurt?”

  “Not really,” he says, hissing with more annoyance than pain. He picks up Daniel from the crib and huddles next to me.

  The moment my baby’s cheek touches mine, a sob chokes from my throat. I wrap my arms around him, never wanting to let go. Thane’s fingers dig into my hair as he kisses the side of my face.

  “Let’s go back to the infirmary.”

  “No! There are still cops swarming the place.”

  “Baby, they’re going to find out it was a hoax, and you’re hurt.”

  “No one is taking my son away from me ever again.”

  A smile staggers over his face as he strokes my head. “Okay.”

  “Get me the hell out of here.”

  I don’t think I can stand to be in her presence or this creepy room for a second longer.

  “Can you stand?”

  I hand Daniel to him and grasp his arm. The room spins as I haul myself to my feet, but I allow myself a few seconds rest before nodding. Step by step, we walk out of that apartment. I keep my eyes focused on the walls, not the floor. He keeps looking at me, as if to reassure himself that I’m still alive. And then finally we’re at our door.

  “It’s a bit of a mess.”

  That’s when I notice the blood staining the carpet.

  “Huh. The bodies are gone. He must’ve paid them off already.”

  My heart gallops forward, and I sway to the side. He catches me.

  “What the hell happened?” I ask as he shuts the door behind us.

  His thumb moves gently on the underside of my arm. “I thought I lost you. I went a little nuts.”

  “A little?”

  “Believe me when I say they won’t be missed.”

  He guides me to the sofa, and we all sit down. I’ve never been so glad to sit down in my whole life. Relief settles in my bones as his arm snakes around my shoulder and pulls me into his chest.

  “I thought I lost you,” he says again, this time with a tremble in his voice.

  I think of the dream I had while I was in that hospital bed. Violet’s hands clutching my throat and Thane ripping her back. “You saved me. Us.”

  Thane looks at the hand resting over my belly, his exhausted face creased with a smile. He lets out a long breath and kisses the top of Daniel’s head, who lets out a happy squeal.

  13

  Thane

  Something hard digs into my shoe. A piece of glass, sitting in the middle of the lobby. I pick it up and walk over to the pile of debris being shoveled to the side. Cold air blows through the tarp we have set up to block the entrance. It’s going to cost tens of thousands of dollars to repair the lobby and replace the security machines that were broken.

  Tens of thousands of dollars, countless hours on the phone with lawyers, and back-alley meetings with crooked cops all because of one woman with a chip on her shoulder. She did more damage than I could’ve ever fucking done on my own, and not all of it’s measured in dollars and wounds. Christine wakes up screaming. Almost every night. She insisted on moving Daniel’s crib inside our bedroom. The added stress can’t be good for the baby, but there’s nothing I can do but be there for her.

  Coming here makes me feel better. Watching them work on repairing this place takes the edge off just a little bit. I walk across, nodding at people who recognize me.

  “Hey, Thane!”

  “How’s it going, man?”

  I close my eyes and will their cheerful voices to disappear. The guilt on their faces grinds at me. It’s almost as though being a Blackthorn means something again, and I’m not sure I want it to. It used to amuse me to have grown men groveling at my feet, but now it makes me sick. I can’t stand it.

  Standing by the elevator is a pale-skinned man with dark red curls. His arms cross over his broad chest. Silas doesn’t have a smile for me. Thank God. His guard whispers something in his ear, and he nods without taking his eyes off me.

  He motions with his head, indicating that I should follow him. I fall into step beside him wordlessly as he walks toward a blank door, which swings open into a cramped office. It’s as though it was hastily put together. Silas walks inside first and sits behind the desk stacked with paper.

  “Have a seat.”

  One of his guards squeezes in behind me as I sit down in one of the empty chairs. Silas’s stare is like a disappointed older brother. There’s nothing threatening in it, but I still don’t like it.

  “Three dead members, Thane. What am I supposed to do with you?”

  The rules are pretty clear regarding murder of another member. There’s always a sentencing, followed by a swift blade to the
neck, but that was when there was a Council. Now it’s all up to one man to decide what happens to me.

  “I’m not going to apologize for what I did. My wife was in a coma, and I did what I had to do to protect her.”

  “They were innocent.”

  “No one here is innocent.”

  Silas grips the edge of his desk, leaning in. “Maybe, but you are not a judge. You don’t get to decide who dies.”

  “I don’t regret it, Silas. I tolerated their disrespect for way too long because of what my family used to represent.”

  “You let things slide that you shouldn’t have, and now three men are dead because of it. I’m not happy, Thane.”

  “If this is going where I think it is, I’m not going down without a fight.”

  A tic jumps in Silas’s cheek as he glares at me through narrowed eyes. “I’m not going to kill the man who got our children back. I’d be strung up just for suggesting it. My own wife might do it.”

  So now they love me again.

  “You’re the boss.”

  “But I’m not God, and I can’t control the minds of men.”

  “That’s too fucking bad, isn’t it?”

  The desk shoves a foot forward as Silas stands up, his hands planted on the desk as his face hovers inches from mine.

  “Don’t push me, Thane. You got lucky. You suspected her when no one else did, and without you we’d still be sitting around with our dicks in our hands. You’re a hero now, but that can change in a heartbeat.”

  “I don’t care about being a hero.”

  “But you care about the future of this place, don’t you?”

  Once I felt a glow of pride about being a Dragon, but now it feels broken beyond repair.

  “My whole life was built around the syndicate. It used to feel like a family. There was honor. Respect.”

  “It’s our home and we’ve got to fight for it. We can’t build it back to what it was without a united front.”

  “I don’t understand what you want me to do.”

  “You’ve got to get the others on board with putting this mess behind us, because we’ve got bigger problems right now. I’ve got the local cops breathing down my neck, threatening to open a federal investigation against us. If that happens and the syndicate is still fractured, people will rat on us.”

  Now I understand where he’s getting at. I act as the Black Dragons poster boy and lead by example, while Silas deals with all the bullshit in the backend. It’s a good deal. It’ll save my ass.

  “I don’t like it.”

  His knuckles whiten.

  “I don’t want to be used.”

  “Some would say it’s your duty to be used.”

  “Fuck that.”

  I step around the chair and stand up, turning my back on him.

  “What about your son?”

  Silas’s steely growl brings heat to my chest, and my instinct is to bite back that I’ll never let any harm come to him.

  “What kind of world do you want him to grow up in?”

  The room pivots as I rotate my body, facing Silas again. His eyes reflect the same anxiety fluttering in my chest. My world changed when I found out I was a father. There wasn’t me anymore. The moment I held him in my arms, he became my life. My purpose.

  14

  Christine

  Blue skies and not a cloud in sight. The warmth of the sun gently kisses my skin as I lie back against Thane’s chest. The smell of freshly mown grass saturates the air. My three-year-old boy makes car noises with his mouth as he runs his toy truck over the grass.

  “Daddy! Wanna play with me?”

  “Play what, buddy?”

  “Cops and robbers! I’m the bad guy, and you’re the cop.”

  “I’m the cop?”

  “Yeah!” Daniel gives his father a toothy grin.

  “Why don’t you play with your sister?”

  My sweet son crawls to my lap where Jill sits in my arms. He runs the car over my legs as Jill’s bright eyes follow it. Then she whimpers, reaching for the toy. Daniel hands it over and kisses her head. I feel a warm glow of pride for my son as he lets his sister play with it. Jill’s tiny fingers clutch the bright red truck, and she makes a happy squeal.

  “Cops and robbers,” Thane repeats with a smirk.

  “Well, you can’t blame him for picking up things at home.”

  Life has settled back down to normal, or as close to normal as it can be in the syndicate. Thane’s back to work, and I spend my days taking care of our kids or helping the women of this place adjust. When he’s not putting out fires, I’m dealing with a crisis. It’s nonstop, hard work, but it’s worth it.

  “What do you think he’ll be when he grows up?”

  “I don’t care what he does as long as he’s happy.”

  Thane squeezes my shoulder as I twist around in his arms. His hot mouth descends over my lips as I touch his jaw.

  Our family is safe and happy.

  For now, that’s all I want.

  We break the kiss, smiling like two kids drunk on love.

  “Ashley!”

  A three-year-old girl with soft, brown curls and a pouty mouth stares at Daniel, her parents standing behind her.

  “Hi, Daniel!”

  The pout becomes a grin as Ashley walks toward Daniel, and I lay my head back on my husband’s chest, smiling.

  * * *

  If you enjoyed His Secret Baby, please leave a review on Amazon! Want to read Silas’ story? Keep scrolling to read Bad Boy’s Bride, the first in the Bad Boy Empire series. Find out what comes next by signing up for my newsletter! Join it to never miss out on free books and 0.99c sales. Click here to join!

  Bad Boy’s Bride

  I'll drag her to the altar to save her.

  The name's Silas. I'm not the type to settle down. New town, new job, and a new girl to warm my bed. All part of the job, with one hitch that's got me in knots.

  The new girl. Fawn. I'm not supposed to look at her, let alone touch her, but every time she makes eyes at me, I want to rip her clothes off. I'm counting down the minutes until I get her alone-in my bed, on the counter, anywhere I damned well please.

  I'm no good for anyone, but there's a man after her that makes me look like a saint. I said I'd never marry, but that was before I met a girl I was ready to kill for.

  Fawn is mine.

  No matter the cost

  1

  Silas

  A small orange piece of fruit—a mandarin—touches her lips. Delicate fingers push the curved fruit into her small mouth, and I catch a glimpse of her pink tongue. Her fingers run with juices. She swallows and pops them in her mouth, sucking them one by one as her deep-blue eyes stare at me from across the table. I keep my eyes trained on her forehead, averting them from the low-cut, see-through blouse and her tits straining against the sheer fabric. I can see her black push-up bra and the swell of her flesh. A triangle of her flat stomach peeks from her shirt, just above the seam of her leather skirt.

  No doubt she left it unbuttoned just to fuck with me.

  Ignore her.

  But the sound of her lips and tongue fill my ears as though there’s a speaker right next to me, blaring live audio of a blow job. Just one look at her shimmering lips and my dick strains against my slacks. Fuck, what I’d give to have that mouth wrapped around my cock right now. The ornately decorated dining hall echoes with her noise, and I have to look at her because I can’t take it anymore.

  The girl smiles, her eyes alive with mischief. Once she’s done licking and sucking every drop from her fingers, she takes the little napkin from her lap and meticulously wipes herself, all while giving me the most brazen fuck me stare I’ve ever seen on a girl. She wants me so badly that she’s not even being subtle about it. Hell, she’s even touching herself now. She trails her neck, sweeping up and playing with her long earrings. I watch her hands as though they’re mine. I can almost feel her soft skin beneath my touch, burning with lust. She loops a finger around a
strand of her dirty-blonde hair. It’s long enough to touch her shoulders—perfect for grabbing as I force that girl to her knees. I’d make her open wide for my cock and I’d fuck her throat before I’d flip that leather skirt over her bare ass and take her over the table.

  My cock twitches in my slacks.

  Ignore her, you fucking idiot.

  It’s rare that a girl this hot hits on me so openly, and it’s even rarer that I don’t act on it. Unfortunately her daddy’s in the room. He also happens to be my client.

  They warned me about him. He’s a touchy bastard with the tendency to overreact to men flirting with his daughter. Apparently he decided that he doesn’t want any man’s cock to touch his daughter’s precious pussy. If that dough-faced fuck caught a whiff of my attraction to her, I’d be dead.

  And yet she does not stop teasing me.

  Blood drains from my head as a sweet smile spreads over her pretty face. And then she slowly winks.

  A man’s throat clears, and I ball my hands into fists so that my nails dig into my palms. I look away, my eyes traveling over the dark mahogany table laid with a spread of Chinese food, and they finally rest on a man’s face, wearing a permanently fixed scowl.

  “Did you hear what I said, or were you too busy staring at my daughter?”

  Shit.

  Ryan strikes me as one of those guys who has never been happy his whole goddamn life, and so he makes everyone else’s life miserable. He has never cracked a smile in the two weeks I’ve been here working for him. I normally never stay so long in one place, but the Black Dragons Syndicate pays really well. Too well. Unfortunately that means dealing with this prick every day, and the daughter who makes it quite clear that she wants me, who has done everything to attract my attention other than grabbing my cock. The second part amused me for a while, but now this is getting dangerous. I’m practically getting hard-ons in the dining room. My reputation as a professional, world-class hitman is crashing around my ears.