by K. Webster
“Stop kissing my girlfriend,” Winston grumbles, looking beautiful and beat all to hell and pissed off. “Come on. Francis has brunch ready.”
Perry laughs and then helps me to my feet. I walk over to Winston. He tucks me against his good side. We follow Perry into the dining room. A leaf and chairs have been added. In the center are the pink bird salt and pepper shakers.
“Interesting decoration choice,” Winston grumbles.
“Shh,” I whisper. “You’ll offend the baby.”
“Baby?” Tinsley chimes in.
“You’re pregnant?” Keaton demands.
“No,” Win clips out. “Jesus. Whose idea was it to move this brunch to my place?”
“Mine,” his mother snips. “Can you put a shirt on, please?”
“No.” He sits down and pulls me into his lap. “Any other requests?”
Caroline purses her lips together in obvious annoyance. She doesn’t make any other demands as Francis bustles around dropping platters of breakfast foods onto the table. It’s a bit chaotic as everyone makes their plates, but it almost feels normal. Like Team Constantine isn’t always a bunch of perfect freaks. Sometimes they can be normal. Ish. They’ll never really be normal.
Once everyone is eating, Caroline begins what feels like a breakfast meeting now rather than a family meal.
“I’ve spoken to Anthony this morning,” she explains, “and he’ll be representing you in court.”
Yippee.
Just what I want to discuss when I’ve barely gotten anything in my stomach.
“For my grandmother’s money?” I ask, offering Win a bite of my bacon since he’s got his only free hand up the back of my shirt.
Caroline nods, her eyes narrowing when I yelp. I jerk my head to glower at Win who wears a smug grin. Fucker bit me.
“See if I feed you again, asshole,” I mutter.
“If you two are done behaving like children,” Caroline huffs, “I thought I’d give you an update this morning.”
“On?” Win asks.
“Manda and Meredith.”
Win and I both tense at the mention of their names, the night before crashing back over us. I shudder at the memory of hanging off the side of the damn building, but Win soothes away the tremors by stroking my bare back.
“Go on,” Win growls.
Last night, Meredith left since the police had nothing to hold her on. I’d been more concerned about getting to the hospital, but Win was pissed they let her walk free. Had he not been injured, he would have probably done more to stop it.
Luckily, his mother is a viper.
When she’s striking out at someone else—an enemy—it’s kind of nice to have her on your side. She definitely gets shit done.
“They’ve both been arrested.” Caroline smiles the kind of smile queens do when they’re telling their minions to behead someone. “Embezzlement charges are the least of their worries at this point. I made sure to send the NYPD every piece of evidence we’ve uncovered so far. Harold and Anthony are working on the rest. We’re going to make them wish they’d never heard our name, much less tried to steal from it.”
“What about my dad?”
Caroline’s stare loses some of the hard edge as she studies the way I absently feed Winston more bacon. “He’s chosen his side.”
Manda’s.
“Oh.” I drop my stare down to the plate of food, my stomach roiling violently. “You spoke to him, then?”
“He’s relieved you’re alive, but he believes you’re in the wrong for wanting to take what’s rightfully yours. He doesn’t think your inheritance was a gambling chip to be used by Manda and rather rudely told me he’d fight tooth and nail to not only obtain that money, but to also use it to sue us once he got her out of jail.”
Elaine laughs and Keaton snorts.
“He won’t win,” Perry states.
“Captain Obvious,” Vivian says. “Of course he won’t.”
I chew on my bottom lip, no longer interested in breakfast. Did I really think Dad would choose me? He’s been choosing her pretty much from day one. Weak for allowing her to manipulate him. One day he’ll realize the error of his ways, but it’ll be too late. His actions—and inactions—nearly got his daughter killed. And right now he’s backing the woman who’s partly responsible.
“Don’t worry,” Caroline says as she lifts her cup of tea. “You’re on the right side. For now.”
Her impassive features would be unreadable to most, but I’ve spent quite some time learning Winston’s every facial tic. In her expression, she’s telling me she’ll accept me being on their side, but if I screw up, she’ll happily crush me beneath her heel.
I smile at her because they can’t get rid of me now. “Team Constantine forever.”
Perry holds up his fist and I bump it with my cast. Caroline grimaces as she reads Win’s Sharpie handiwork on my cast.
“You like poking at her,” Winston accuses when the talking starts back up again and I’m no longer the focus. “I thought you were trying not to die.”
“She makes it too easy.”
“Definitely trying to die.”
“I thought about having us all matching Team Constantine shirts made. She’d love it, am I right?”
“Close your bratty mouth, Cinderelliott, or I’m going to drag you into your old bedroom and find a way to do it for you.”
“You can’t make me suck your dick with your family having breakfast right down the hall.”
Blue eyes dark with challenge bore into me. “Watch me.”
“You wouldn’t.”
“You have three seconds to get into that bedroom.”
“Or what?”
“Or,” he rumbles, his strong fingers caressing my hip, “I’ll push you to your knees right here. That’ll get them out of my fucking house.”
We have a silent standoff, neither of us budging, but when I realize he’s actually serious, I bolt from the dining room without so much as a goodbye.
My villainous prince stalks after me.
In this fairy tale, he catches his princess and does very, very filthy things to her.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
Winston
A few months later…
Affordable housing.
The thought strikes me and I almost laugh at the idea of it. Almost. Nothing is laughable when it comes to the Morellis, but seeing the building Leo wanted so badly, that’s located in the heart of an area they mostly own, get turned into apartments that people can actually afford is almost too good to pass up.
The media will see my efforts as a way to help the community.
The enemy will see it as a giant “fuck you.”
I quickly fire off an email to get the ball rolling and then call Deborah into my office. She scurries in, eager to please.
“Yes, sir?”
“I thought I asked you to send Ash in.”
Her features pinch and she huffs. “She vanished. One minute she was in her office on the phone and the next she was gone. Perry says he doesn’t know where she went, but I know he’s lying.”
I swear to fucking God most of my day is spent breaking up squabbles between Perry and Ash against my secretary.
“Hmm.” I grab my keys and stalk out of my office, Deborah trailing behind. “I’ll be out for the rest of the day.”
She grumbles about having to reschedule my afternoon appointments while I lock my door. Ignoring her bitching, I stride into Nate’s old office that now belongs to my brother. Perry sits at the desk, brows furrowed and pounding away on his computer. He doesn’t see me right away, so I take a second to watch him. Ever since the shit went down with Nate, Perry has stepped up more than ever. I could have lost a huge part of my company because Nate was so involved. Rather than feeling the hit like I thought I would, Perry has worked his ass off to make sure we don’t.
“Have you seen the brat?” I ask, strolling into his office.
He abandons glaring at his computer to flash m
e an impish grin. “Nope.”
“Liar.”
“Fine. Maybe.”
“Don’t you two get tired of playing childish games all damn day?”
“Actually,” Perry says, scratching at his scruffy beard that needs tending to, “we don’t. Kind of breaks up the monotony of it all.”
“Where did she go, dumbass?”
“She told me to tell you she definitely wasn’t going to the whore apartment and that you shouldn’t bring her a gyro with no onions.”
“Text her and tell her to be waiting naked for me.”
“Dude. No.” He makes a face. “Seriously.”
I laugh and send her that very text. Her response is immediate.
Ash: Should I tell Danny Boy to stay or go?
Me: So help me if Daniel is in the whore apartment with you…
Ash: Who else is going to help me study for my macroeconomics quiz?
Me: Tell Daniel I don’t pay him to tutor you. I pay him to cart you around town since you can’t manage to not play bumper cars with the Escalade.
Ash: That was ONE time.
Me: Twice. Both times you managed to hit THREE cars.
Ash: The first time was your fault though.
Me: You were still behind the wheel.
Ash: The first time they deserved it.
The triplets deserved everything they got. I sometimes wonder how they’re liking their new life with the Morelli rats and what they think about their mother sitting in jail awaiting trial. Then I remember I don’t fucking care.
Baron, so far, is technically innocent—or just really damn stupid in my opinion—because Ulrich hasn’t found anything that indicates he was in on their scheme. He is, however, sticking with his bitch wife rather than his daughter. The evidence of Manda attempting to defraud Ash of her inheritance is damning. That, coupled with all of the botched surgeries that are clear evidence of retaliation against women who criticized or mocked her in the past, Manda is looking at hard prison time.
Meredith will take the fall for all the embezzlement from Halcyon as Nate’s lover and accomplice. I’ll make sure she spends just as much time in prison as her wicked bestie. It’s Nate who got off easy. What he did to Ash still makes me see red sometimes and I have occasional nightmares of where they fall and I don’t catch her.
Ash sends me some shrugging emojis that shakes me from my inner thoughts.
Me: Yes, they deserved it, but the minivan, cab, and Mercedes Benz did not deserve it. The guy driving the minivan was a priest.
Ash: Those curse words he flung at me were not very godly…
We continue our ribbing through text as I leave Halcyon, drive across town to the gyro shop, and eventually make it to the whore apartment that Her Royal Highness insists on keeping for “when I annoy her.”
By the time I make it to her apartment on the twelfth floor, I’m damn near desperate to see her. All this time I thought I’d get bored of her. That we were nothing but a transaction. That she was nothing more than a toy that would lose its thrill.
I was wrong.
Ash is sexy and funny and insane.
Plus, I love her bird.
I unlock the door and step inside. Ash is no longer wearing the tempting dress she had on earlier at the office but has changed into black yoga pants and a fitted white top. She’s actually studying and her books are spread all over her desk. Thankfully, despite her teasing, Daniel isn’t here.
“I should fire you,” I complain as I lock the door behind me. “You only work when you feel like it.”
She waves her middle finger at me, not bothering to look my way. I walk over to her and drop the bag of food in front of her.
“Oh my God,” she groans, choosing to tear into the bag rather than acknowledge me. “Have I ever told you I love you?”
“Only every time I bring you food.”
Which is always.
That’s all she does these days.
Eat and eat and eat.
“Stop judging me,” she grumbles as she devours her gyro. “I’m eating for two and it’s all your fault.”
I lift a brow at her. “My fault? You were supposed to get on birth control.”
“I did!”
“And stay on it.”
“You can’t blame this on me,” she argues. “You didn’t even give it a chance to work before you were filling me up with your super sperm. Now your mom is really going to hate me.”
Mother only pretends to hate Ash.
The monthly spa dates and shopping trips they seem to squeeze in makes that pretty obvious.
We haven’t told anyone yet that Ash is pregnant. Not even Perry. She’s done a pretty good job of hiding her little baby bump, but now that we’re entering the second trimester, she’s beginning to show.
While Ash continues to bitch per usual and wolf down her gyro, I kneel down next to her to rub her stomach. At one time, I never saw kids in my future. But, the moment Ash tearfully thrust a positive pregnancy test at me this summer, I knew without a doubt I wanted them. With her. The girl makes me a greedy bastard because I want everything with her.
“Is he moving yet?”
“I felt a flutter but I don’t know if it’s him.” She polishes off the rest of her gyro and then leans in to kiss me. “Shouldn’t you be working?”
“Shouldn’t you?” I taunt, but I’m only joking with her. She’s taking a full course load at NYU and still insists on coming in to work some. It’s like now that she’s fucking loaded after finally obtaining her inheritance, she’s decided to work her ass off.
“My boyfriend-slash-boss is kind of an asshole. I like to sneak away to my apartment to see my lover. He’s sweet and brings me food. Oh, and I’m carrying his baby. Shh, don’t tell my boyfriend.”
I stand up and scoop her out of her desk chair. She grins at me as I carry her to the bed. I’m gentle when I lay her down because she has my kid growing in her, but then I yank off her tight clothes to get to her soft skin underneath. Once she’s naked, I loom over her, admiring her perfect body. Her tits are sensitive but getting big and her stomach is so fucking cute.
“Winston Constantine,” she gasps out. “Look at you. Sooo obsessed with me.”
Ignoring her, I yank off my suit jacket, wincing slightly from the lingering soreness that I’m still dealing with from my injury this summer that thankfully ended up not needing surgery. I toss it away and then tug at the knot on my tie.
“Touch yourself, Cinderelliott. I didn’t come all this way to watch you lie there like a lazy ass.”
She flips me off but then takes that same finger to tease at her clit, luring me in like a fucking demon. I can’t get my clothes off fast enough, eager to be inside her.
“I’ll let you say filthy, rude things to me while you fuck me if we can get ice cream after this.”
I shed the rest of my clothes and pounce on her. “Deal, my little fuck toy.” I smack her hand away to take over rubbing her pretty pussy. “This needy clit belongs to me. I paid for it long ago. You say girlfriend, I say whore.”
Her fingers thread into my hair and she pulls me to her for a kiss. I coax moans out of her with each rub against her clit. She squirms, trying to spread her legs to urge me inside of her.
“Greedy fucking girl.” I deny her what she wants, whispering kisses over her parted lips. “Your pussy is so wet. Probably from dreaming about me calling you names like slut and come gobbler.”
She snorts out a laugh. “Win!”
I bite her lip. “Hmm?”
“You’re so nasty.”
Any other words she tries to speak are stolen when I pinch her clit and roll it between my fingers. It only takes a few times of this before she’s jolting with an orgasm. I waste no time jerking her thighs apart and lining the tip of my cock against her slickness. She screams when I drive into her with a hard thrust. I fuck her hard—much longer than forty goddamn seconds, thank you very much—until she’s a trembling mess beneath me. With a contented sigh,
I release inside her, filling her with hot come. I don’t slide out of her but instead rest on my elbows on either side of her face so I can look at her.
“Do I make you happy, Win?”
I lift a brow. “Fishing for compliments. So unattractive.”
“Liar. It’s one of the things you love about me.”
“Happy? Hmm. Maybe just fine. I feel fine.”
She smacks me. “I hate you.”
“Not when I give you flowery words,” I taunt. “Yes, beautiful girl. You make me so fucking happy. I can’t live without you. You’re my everything.”
Her hazel eyes twinkle with mirth. “Keep going.”
“That’ll cost you.”
Her grin is devilish. “I can afford it.”
“So fucking cocky, Cinderelliott.”
This girl changes me—warms frigid parts of me I didn’t know existed—and I’m not even mad about it.
“You, old man, taught me everything I know.”
I kiss her hard and then spend the rest of the afternoon teaching her a few things she doesn’t know yet.
I think they call this a filthy fucking happily ever after.
EPILOGUE
Winston
Seven and a half years later…
Team Constantine.
That’s what Ash calls us when she’s trying to round us up to get out of the house or to get our group to cooperate. Like our own little family cheerleader. Of course, our team sucks. Lane is particular as fuck and can’t ever seem to get his backpack organized just the way he likes it which nearly always makes us run late. He’s the most neurotic kid you’ll ever meet. Noelle—or No-No as we like to call her—is a monster. Three and a holy fucking terror. Even the baby, Tuck, nine months old, is better behaved than his sister. Whenever it’s time to leave to go to the Constantine Compound or our house here in the Hamptons or anywhere for that fucking matter where we have to pack, it’s a goddamn zoo.
“Okay, who wants a snack, Team Constantine?” Ash says from the middle of the towel she’s laid out on the sand. “Mommy brought applesauce.”
Lane, ever the serious one and who lives to please his mother, says, “I love applesauce.”