by Renee Rose
I beam at him. “Is that the same as love?”
He doesn’t move. I get the feeling he’s never said it before.
Neither have I, except to my brother.
He leans down and moves his lips across mine. “I think it is,” he murmurs.
Fireworks explode in my chest, my belly, the backs of my knees—everywhere.
He loves me. I don’t say it back. Not because it’s not true, only because… I still feel like I have to protect myself.
This man owns me. I give him my body, but I’m not sure about my soul yet. I’m especially not sure about my heart.
He controls so much. Maybe I just need one thing I can still hold back from him.
Chapter 10
Paolo
We take a limo from the Bellissimo to Alessia and Vlad’s mansion in Summerland North, the richest neighborhood in Vegas. I normally prefer to drive myself and would’ve just taken one of Nico’s expensive cars from the private garage, but I want to give Caitlin all the experiences. Spa treatments. Room service. Ziplining between rooftops. Roller coasters. She’s loved all of them. She drank too much last night and was queasy this morning, but perked right up after ordering everything on the room service menu.
Everything’s new to her and she’s not defensive about receiving any of it. She doesn’t try to pretend it’s not exciting, or that she doesn’t want it. She greets it all with this crazy, childish enthusiasm that keeps my dick hard and my chest warm.
After dinner last night, we saw one of our soldiers, Tony, escorting his girl Pepper Heart backstage before her performance. Caitlin went nuts when she saw the singer, and was over the moon when I called out to Tony for an introduction. She snapped at least a dozen selfies with Pepper, who was as sweet as pie about it.
I meant it when I said I loved her last night. I didn’t even feel vulnerable saying it, even though she didn’t say it back.
I don’t ever feel weak with her.
I know we have a long way to go. I’m not stupid enough to think good sex is enough to make a relationship work, and I also know the newness of money and power will wear off.
Right now, she’s gone silent, though. No bouncing or looking out the windows at everything.
“Hey,” I say. “What’s up?”
She looks at me, but her eyes are blank, like she’s far away. She shakes her head. This is a part of her—it’s why she believes she’s crazy. Why she turns to pain and pleasure to feel alive. What made her go dead?
“You have the same look you had after you spent the night in jail. You nervous about meeting my family?”
She nods, still remote.
I reach over and unbuckle the seatbelt and pull her onto my lap. “What do you need?” I slide my fingers between her legs. She’s in a mini-dress with nothing but a scrap of fabric over her pussy. I stroke gently and her head flops back on my shoulder.
“This.”
“Yeah?” I bite her ear. “You need pain, too? Or just pleasure?”
“Anything. It helps bring me back into my body.”
I want to ask her more. I’m pissed at myself for not finding out everything there is to know about her and her quirks before I expose her to situations that make her tap out.
I slip under the panties and stroke lightly until she gets wet. When she does, I increase the pressure, spreading her juices up to her clit and toying with the piercing.
“You know I’m not gonna let anyone mistreat you, right? These are my younger brothers. They would never fuck with me.”
She doesn’t answer, but she’s rocking her hips over my hardened cock, her pussy weeping for more.
“Caitlin?” I prompt when she doesn’t answer. I slip my fingers out of her panties and slap her pussy.
She moans her appreciation.
And then it hits me. Even though I’m going over there today to ask my brothers in person about her dad, it hadn’t dawned on me that she’s gonna be wondering if they did it.
I spank her pussy again, a dozen light quick slaps. “They didn’t kill your dad, Caitlin. They were here in Vegas at the time. Lo prometo—I promise.”
She whimpers and her back tightens like she’s holding in a sob.
Fuck. I’m an insensitive asshole for not realizing that’s why she was checking out.
Of course that would be too much for somebody to handle—going to meet her boyfriend’s family when they might be the ones who killed her father? Her loyalty between her father and me must be tearing her up inside.
I say more than I ever intended to tell her. “I really don’t think it was us, doll. He was working with the Russians, too. I’m gonna follow up there. But it wasn’t my brother-in-law, either. He was living in Russia at the time.”
She turns and throws her arms around my neck and buries her head against my shoulder. Her entire body trembles. She’s holding her breath.
“You can cry if you need to, little girl. Or I can fuck you blind. Whatever the hell you want.”
Her tears wet my neck, but she whispers, “I’ll take the second option” and peels off her panties.
“On your knees,” I command. “Bend over the seat.” There’s plenty of room for me to pound her from behind, and I figure that’s how she wants it.
Judging by how quickly she drops into position, I’d say I guessed right.
I unzip and stand on my knees behind her, holding her torso down, even though she’s not resisting.
I rub the head of my cock over her slit and then slide in, the shudder of pleasure immediate. We don’t have much time, so I make it count. I hold her by her nape and pump into her.
“Oh God, yes,” she moans.
She feels so good, but this isn’t for me. I need to make her come. Give her what she needs. I jackhammer into her, make it hard and rough. She arches her back to take me deeper, picks her head up from the seat.
I wrap my hand over her mouth and plug her nose with my thumb.
She jerks in surprise and struggles. I let her breathe again. “I don’t wanna leave marks on your neck, bella, so you’re gonna hold your breath until you come. Understand?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Good girl.” I keep fucking her hard and block her air passages again. This time she’s ready. She doesn’t fight it at first. Then she struggles. I let her breathe again.
“This time,” I tell her sternly. “This time you’re going to come, capiche?”
“Okay, yes. Please.”
I chuckle at the please. So damn cute. I cover her mouth and nose again. I told her how it’s going down, and apparently my balls are also on board, because they tighten up, heat flashes at the base of my spine. I close my mouth on a shout and bury myself deep in her to come, pulling her torso up off the seat and back against my chest.
She lets out a cry against my hand and then she comes. Violently. Her body jerks and twitches. Her cunt squeezes and releases.
I don’t want it to end. I definitely don’t want to get out of the limo. But it’s stopped. The driver is being cool because I told him I’d take care of him if he took care of me.
“Are you okay, doll?” I parted my fingers so she could breathe, but they’re still clamped over her mouth. I peel them away now and turn her chin to see her eyes.
They are aware.
“Yes.” She’s back.
I pull out and clean us both up with some of the napkins provided. Before I let her up, I spank her ass until it turns a pretty shade of pink.
“You got what you needed?” I ask.
When I let her up and see her face, it’s transformed. There’s color in her cheeks. Light behind her eyes. She smiles that wide smile at me.
“I’m much better, thank you.”
I grip the sides of her face and kiss her. “I’m gonna take care of you, doll. Every time. You just have to let me.”
She nods. “I want to.”
I want to.
It’s different than I will.
But it will have to do for now.
Caitlin
I feel a million times better as we walk to the door of the sprawling estate. My ass is warm and tingly, my clit still pulses from the orgasm and all the feel-good chemicals are pumping through my veins.
I’m ready to marry Paolo on the spot for knowing what I needed.
Well, I would if I knew how to trust people, which I don’t. I’m realizing that even if the Tacone family had nothing to do with my dad’s death, I’m terrified of getting close to Paolo. Letting anyone in. I’m already so broken I don’t believe I can rely on anyone but me. I don’t want to make the mistake of believing I can only to have it not work out.
The woman who answers the door looks even younger than I am. “Hey, guys.” She has a plump blonde baby girl on her hip and she pops the child higher before she leans forward and gives Paolo the double-cheek kisses.
“This is Caitlin, my girl. Be nice to her.”
“When am I ever not nice?” The woman scoffs and pulls me into a one-armed hug. “It’s great to meet you. “I’m Alessia, the baby sister. Come on in.”
I get nervous again inside. The giant living room is filled with the Tacone family and they all stop and look at us with interest.
“This is Vlad, my husband,” Alessia says, when a tattooed man in shirtsleeves comes over and takes the baby from her. “And the baby is Lara. Our son Mika is over there.” She points at a teenager who can’t possibly be her real son. She couldn’t have been more than ten when he was born.
Vlad shakes Paolo’s and my hand and studies me with a piercing gaze. A shiver runs through me.
Paolo slides his arm around me and spreads his fingers across my belly, pulling me tightly against him. The message couldn’t be more clear. I’m under his protection.
It feels nice.
Corey and Stefano come over to welcome us, then I’m introduced to Paolo’s other brother, Nico, and his wife Sondra, a pretty blonde who also has a baby on her hip. “This is Nico Jr.,” she tells me, kissing the baby’s cheek.
“What can I get you to drink? A glass of wine? Cocktail?” Alessia offers.
For some reason, the thought of alcohol just turns my stomach. I swear I didn’t have that much to drink last night, but I’ve been queasy all day. “Water would be great,” I tell her.
“You want to put steaks on the grill?” Alessia suggests to Vlad.
Turns out it’s code for all the men to go outside and stand around the grill while the women gather in the kitchen with wine.
Except when Mika gets sent back inside I know they’re talking business out there.
Is it about my dad?
My queasiness kicks in even more. I pick up a cheese square from the hors d’oeuvres tray and pop it in my mouth.
“Did you have fun at the Bellissimo?” Corey asks.
I cringe. Small talk. Awk-ward. And I can’t even pull out Crazy Caitlin to play. I want these women to like me.
What does that mean? Am I really seeing this thing with Paolo as a future?
That seems nuts, and yet… he means something to me.
“I had a great time. I’ve never been to Vegas at all, so Paolo made sure I got a taste of everything.”
Alessia hands me a glass of water with lemon. “Not to freak you out, but Paolo’s never showed up with a woman before. So we’re all kind of fascinated to finally figure out his type.”
“I don’t think Caitlin’s a type. I think she’s an anomaly,” Corey offers. To me she says, “You somehow cracked the Paolo code.”
I tense, thinking she knows I’m a hacker, but I don’t see any signs of it in her face.
“Nico was the same way, though,” Alessia goes on. “No girlfriends and then suddenly—bam—he meets Sondra and knows she’s the one.”
“I-I don’t know if I’m the one,” I stutter in surprise. I try to picture myself here, part of their family, a baby on my hip. I can’t see it.
“Yeah, no pressure. Sorry, I didn’t mean to freak you out. I’m just happy to see Paolo happy.”
I look at Paolo through the sliding glass door. It’s Vegas, so they can stand out there without freezing even though it’s December.
“How can you tell he’s happy?” I ask doubtfully.
She laughs. “Well, connected, I guess. You’re right, it’s hard to tell what Paolo feels about anything. He keeps his cards pretty close to his chest. The way I tell is by his actions. If he brought you here, it’s because you mean something to him.”
I don’t want to believe her. Because the idea of this thing actually working out terrifies me.
"I’ll tell you something else about Paolo. He doesn’t forge many connections. So when he does, they’re powerful. He would do anything for the people he’s decided he cares about. And I mean anything.”
Paolo
Vlad manages the steaks on the grill with his toddler on his hip. She leans into him, playing shy and watching us with big blue eyes. Every now and he speaks to her softly in Russian.
She’s not Alessia’s kid, but my sister couldn’t be happier to be stepmom. Her health wouldn’t have supported a pregnancy, so Lara and Mika—their adopted son—were a godsend.
I still want to beat the shit out of Vlad for kidnapping my sister and taking her to Russia, but I can’t because he’s family now. And I have to admit he’s doing a damn good job making my baby sister happy.
“So you and the hacker. Didn’t see that one coming,” Nico says. “I thought I saw on the news she got picked up by the FBI. How’d she get out of jail?”
My hands curl into fists. “You got a problem with her?”
“I got no problem with her if you don’t. This is your show, Paolo. The only thing I’m concerned about is the Feds connecting the two of you. Because you know they’d pick her up and put the screws to her in a heartbeat.”
A wash of ice-cold rushes through me, even though I’ve already considered this possibility. Still, I don’t like to hear it said out loud, especially not from Nico, who is probably the smartest and most tactical of all the Tacone brothers.
“I paid for Lucy Lawrence to go in anonymously. They won’t trace it.” Lucy’s firm has handled our family’s legal business since my father’s era, but she took over our account about five years ago and impressed the shit out of all of us. She’s a brilliant attorney who somehow maintains her humanity without being all high-moraled.
“Good,” Nico says, but I get the feeling he doesn’t believe it’s all good.
“She wouldn’t roll over, anyway,” I say fiercely. But I’m not one hundred percent sure of that. She holds herself back. This could all be one giant manipulation.
“Whose idea was it to come to Vegas?” Nico’s question is deceptively casual.
Fanculo.
“Hers. But she hasn’t been out of my sight.” Of course she was typing away on her computer this morning, and I have no way of knowing what the fuck she’s doing on it.
The memory of her quizzing me over and over again about what I’d do if she betrayed me buzzes around in the back of my mind.
“There was no breach in security that I can see since you’ve been here,” Vlad says with his thick Russian accent.
Well, that’s good.
“She thinks the Family offed her dad,” I tell them.
“No shit. Who’s her dad?” Stefano asks.
“Lake West. Remember him? Small time middle man for stolen goods. Electronics mostly. That’s what I’ve dug up, anyway. You know anything about his death?”
All three of them shake their heads.
“I think he could’ve been working for the bratva, too. Vlad, do you have ties to the other cells there? One that would’ve been around ten years ago when he disappeared?”
Vlad shrugs. “I can make an inquiry. Set up a meeting if you like.” After a moment’s hesitation, he shakes his head. “They would kill you alone. I would have to come to Chicago and go with you to ensure your safety.”
“Would you do that?”
Vlad shrugs. “
You’re family. My new brotherhood. Maybe Caitlin will be my new sister, ah?”
I look through the sliding glass doors at my crazy, wild unicorn of a girl. The geeky glasses perched on her nose somehow make the banging hot body even more banging. She’s uncomfortable and I need to go in and rescue her soon.
“Something like that,” I say, because it’s hard to imagine Caitlin agreeing to marry me. But when he says it, I realize that’s it. I’d love to lock this thing down with her forever. If I could be sure I trusted her. If I got to see all the secrets of her soul.
“Okay. I will set it up. We’ll go next week.” Vlad slides the cooked steaks onto a plate, which Stefano picks up, since Vlad’s hands are full with Lara.
“Thank you, I appreciate that.” I follow the men in and take up my protective position beside Caitlin.
My crazy, beautiful hacker unicorn.
The girl I’m not sure I can trust.
The girl I love.
Chapter 11
Caitlin
In the silence between sex and sleep, Paolo’s deep voice cracks the darkness.
“Who hurt you, doll?” We’re spooning, my back to his front, his arm around me, hand molded over my breast.
I go still, listening to the sounds of our breath, making sure I know what he means. Even though I’m pretty sure I do, I warble, “What do you mean?”
He waits a beat. Then he says, “Tell be about the checking out thing.”
My heart starts hammering. He must feel it because he shifts his hand to rest over my heart instead. His lips come to my nape. “Don’t be afraid. Just tell me.”
I don’t know if afraid is the right word. But I’m broken. Damaged. And I don’t like looking at my brokenness.
I lick my lips. “The official diagnosis is depersonalization-derealization disorder. It’s one of the dissociative disorders. When I’m triggered, I have this out-of-body experience, not in a good way. Like I’m just an observer. Like you said, I check out.”
“And who made you that way?”