SE7EN: A Single Dad Mafia Romance

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SE7EN: A Single Dad Mafia Romance Page 17

by Ann, Bry


  My chest puffs out a little. I’m proud of this. I wish I could be more proud, but I can’t get my mind off Isla and how she’s reacting to me ghosting her. I know Nia hasn’t taken it well. She’s more withdrawn than usual. I glance at Frances. He’s scowling at the ground, pounding a glass of whiskey. He’s pissed that I got the promotion before him. Sucks for him, but he’s not fully trustworthy. I do feel sorry for Marley, though. She’s gonna get the shit fucked out of her tonight. She can take it, though. She’s tougher than he is. Besides, Marley’s daughter, Alex, will rip him a new one if he gets too rough with her mom. That little girl is gonna take over the world one day. I truly don’t doubt it. She’s trouble.

  “Second, that leaves an open caporegime position.” Everyone in the room straightens with interest. “I will not be filling it.”

  There is a series of gasps and uproar. Boss holds up a hand and the room is silenced. That’s power.

  “I am the Boss. I have weighed the pros and cons and decided I like having a more intimate group of men after all we’ve been through. I know that’s not the typical structure, but I run things. I report to no-fucking-body. So, I’m changing the rules. Anyone got a problem with that?”

  Crickets. People would be stupid to fight him on it. They’d be gone before they could open their mouths.

  “Next, in light of recent events, no outside doctors, no specialists, no nothing unless it is specifically approved by me, and most likely, it won’t be. I will be bringing in all our own doctors for whatever medical needs are required. I just need to be made aware. If someone is dying, call Seven’s emergency number, as he is now my right-hand man. He will make the call or get a hold of me to figure out what you should do in that situation. Along those same lines…” Boss glances at me in a way that sends a ripple of unease through my body. “I am bringing a new doctor on staff. Since there are now so many children here, I want someone who specializes in that field.”

  Thud. Thud. Thud. My heart thunders in my chest. He wouldn’t…

  “Dr. Isla Grace will be our resident pediatrician. If you have children, make an appointment with her. Her number will be given to the nanny, so you will have to go through her to get in contact with Isla for Isla’s safety.”

  “No,” my voice roars over the crowd of men.

  Boss raises his eyebrows, but before he can speak, pink comes out from around the corner with a proud, shining smile.

  “Yes.”

  “Absolutely not,” I growl, storming forward.

  Boss holds a hand up.

  “We need a pediatrician, and she wants a life outside of work. I can offer her more money than she currently makes, along with significantly reduced hours. It’s a win-win.”

  “She is not working here,” I grind out, tone murderous.

  “Why not?” Isla jumps in, standing proudly in her little pink scrubs in front of all these evil men. “Like our boss said, it’s a win-win.”

  “He’s not our boss!” I boom in—I’m pretty sure—the loudest voice I’ve ever bellowed.

  “Is now.”

  Before I can stop myself, my hand snakes out and snatches her wrist.

  “We’re talking.”

  Boss shrugs and goes on with his speech as I drag Isla out of the room.

  “What?” she snaps when we’re alone in my room which, coincidentally, wasn’t far from where we were.

  “You’re not working for the Goddamn mob, Isla. I refuse to let that happen.”

  “Why not?” she screams, hands flying to her hips. “You do!”

  “I. Am. Bad. You. Are. Not.”

  She rolls her eyes. “You’re not bad. You do bad things. Besides, I won’t be doing anything wrong. I’ll be helping kids.”

  “And what happens when one of them gets hurt doing something you don’t approve of? Something dark and twisted, Isla! You won’t turn away from that.”

  A little crease forms between her brows. The urge to rub it away is so strong I’m starting to regret bringing her to my room. I wasn’t thinking. This was stupid.

  “Of course not.”

  “See? That won’t fly.”

  “Well… I guess we’ll cross that bridge when we get there,” she sing-songs.

  “Damn it, woman! You’re stubborn.”

  She glowers.

  “Is this…?” I don’t finish that sentence. That’s cocky as hell. Of course, this doesn’t have to do with me and her… I glance at her again… does it?

  Is that conceited? But the timing matches almost too perfectly.

  “Why are you here?” I ask slowly.

  “I want a life. Your boss offered me one.”

  I study her, but she’s unreadable. Her mask is perfectly in place. I take one step closer to her, pushing her further against the wall.

  “Is that so?”

  “Yes…”

  The small swell of her breasts beneath her scrubs rises and falls quickly. The action immediately sends blood rushing to my cock.

  Why does she make things so hard? I’m trying to do right by her. Doesn’t she see that?

  “Really? So, if I were to kiss you right now…” Her sharp inhale of breath makes my cock painfully harder. “You wouldn’t feel accomplished at all?”

  “Not at all,” she breathes.

  “Mmm…”

  I step closer to her until her back is completely against the door. I take one hand and tenderly cup her face.

  “What are you doing, hun?”

  “Working,” she squeaks.

  “Really?” I cock an eyebrow and lean closer.

  “Mmm-hmmm….”

  Chuckling, I lean in so I’m one inch from her face.

  “Working?”

  “Working.”

  My lips brush hers and the way all the air rushes out of her is my undoing. I shift my hand so it frames the back of her head and let go.

  I let my lips land on hers fully, slowly at first, feeling a whimper roll out of her from somewhere deep within. She takes my plaid shirt in her hands, like she loves to do, and grips it tightly between her fingers as my tongue starts to explore the soft silk of her mouth.

  Her hips undulate, rolling forward a bit without her even being conscious of it. The blood to my cock roars and screams for more, but I’ll deny that urge.

  For now.

  No, forever.

  No… Her hands slide up to my neck and she tilts her head to the side, sliding away from the kiss, and hugs me. She’s still panting, so I’m a bit confused why she stopped when she’s clearly still aroused. I can smell it on her and it’s killing me.

  “If we go too fast,” she gasps as she tries to catch her breath, “you’ll run.”

  I hold her tightly.

  “Running is starting to sound less and less appealing,” I admit.

  She smiles against my shoulder. “Yeah?”

  “Yeah. Your message is received, but you’re not really working here, are you?”

  She giggles and pulls away from me with a smile.

  “No, but Seven, if he asks me to help with the kids, I will. He saved my life, too, and I know what he does is bad, but he’s good, too. He’s not evil.”

  “No, he’s not evil,” I grumble, “but I don’t want you here. There are evil men here. I don’t want you exposed to them.”

  I immediately regret saying that when memories flash in her eyes and her gaze flies away. She takes two steps away from me and wraps her arms around her stomach.

  “I know there are bad men, Seven,” she whispers.

  “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that.”

  “But I’m not coming to help the men, I’m here for the children. They all deserve something nice and normal. They didn’t choose their parents, they just want stickers when they get shots.”

  Without conscious thought, I move forward and grip her waist.

  “You’re a really good person.”

  “Thanks.”

  “It worries me. You see good in everyone.”

&
nbsp; “I like seeing the good in everyone. You know, everyone thinks being nice is something I can’t help. They forget that being nice is a choice. I don’t have to be. Trust me, if the situation warrants it, I can be a total bitch.”

  “Somehow I doubt that,” I chuckle.

  “I can!” She swats at my chest. “Jerk!”

  “Sorry, Isla,” I laugh. “I just can’t see it, hun. That’s not a bad thing.”

  She frowns. “I can be a bitch,” she huffs, crossing her arms over her chest.

  “Whatever you say,” I laugh, kissing her temple. That calms her a bit.

  She looks up at me, anxiously.

  “I don’t ever... date or anything. You’ll really hurt me if you disappear on me again. I won’t chase you twice.”

  Her brows pull together nervously. I slide my fingers through her silky hair.

  “I won’t disappear again.”

  “Swear.”

  Inhaling a deep breath, I study her for a moment. Her bleeding heart. Kind eyes. Gentle soul.

  I nod.

  “Swear.”

  “Good.”

  There’s a long, awkward pause.

  “How are you holding up, Isla?”

  “Ohhh no! No, no, no! You haven’t earned that yet. Thank you for saving my life. You know I mean it, but if you wanna know how I am, prove you’ll stay. My opening up to you didn’t go so well last time.”

  Her chin lifts a little haughtily.

  “Are you at least talking to Danny about it?” I ask softly, ignoring her attempt at riling me up. She wants more from me. She wants the why. She deserves to know why I ghosted her, but right now, with her scrawny arms wrapped around her waist, all vulnerable and haunted, I have more important things on my mind.

  “There’s nothing to talk about.”

  Her heel quickly swivels on the hardwood and her hand snakes out to grab the door. I catch her shoulder before she can leave.

  She freezes.

  “Honey…” I say softly.

  She doesn’t say anything, but I swear to God, I feel her muscles loosen beneath my fingers.

  “Talk to me,” I murmur.

  “Is he dead?” she whispers in a tiny little voice, then squeaks, “Did you kill him?”

  Because she needs to know who I really am, I reply tersely. “Yes.”

  A muffled cry escapes her lips and her legs start to tremble. I flip my grip under her shoulder in case she collapses.

  “I see his eyes in my dreams every night. I can’t escape him.”

  “He won’t be an issue anymore,” I say carefully.

  “Why did you have to kill him?”

  I give a pause before speaking my truth.

  “Because he’s one of the reasons for my demons. Seems fitting he met them.”

  She turns then and takes my face in her hands, studying my eyes. The hazel of her eyes bounces back and forth several times as she studies me like I’m one of her patients.

  “You killed him,” she whispers, mainly to herself. Her teeth slide over her lower lip. “You… hmm… he…”

  “Isla, I murdered someone. You can walk right back out the door. I won’t feel betrayed.”

  Wrong thing to say. Her eyes fill with water.

  “It’s not that simple.”

  “I’d do it again.”

  “Why are you trying to push me away?” she screams, thrusting her hands against my chest over and over. “Why won’t you let me care about you? Just tell me if you don’t like me!”

  She charges for the door with a heartbreaking whimper. I grab her arm.

  “What?” she snaps. “This is ridiculous. I don’t even know you. Just forget it. Forget I came here. Forget I was stupid. Forget I—”

  I spin her and drag her to my chest.

  “Gotta know if you can handle me, hun. Behind this man is a hell of a lot of demons. I gotta know if you can handle ‘em.”

  “Why didn’t you just say that?” she whispers.

  “I’m not good with words.”

  “I say too much.”

  “I know you do.”

  She smiles a little.

  “I don’t trust you.”

  “Let me earn it.”

  “Can you? Can you, Seven?”

  I tilt her chin up with my finger and lightly kiss her.

  “Yes, honey, I can.”

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Isla

  My whole body is on fire as Seven leads me out the door with his hand on my lower back, lightly steadying me. I’m wavering on my feet and dizzy.

  What just happened?

  What is happening?

  I think I’m slipping into shock. Again.

  “Uh, Isla?” a soft voice comes from around the corner. Both Seven and I turn to see Lacey standing there, fidgeting anxiously with the string on her jacket.

  “Isla, can I talk to you a minute?” she whispers.

  Her voice is much quieter than it was when I first met her. There are dark blue circles under her eyes. Her hair is frizzy and tied in a knot on the top of her head, haphazardly.

  She looks like she's been crying. For days. Seven’s brows furrow as he takes her in.

  “Sure,” I murmur. Seven’s fingers tighten around my hip in what might’ve either been a grateful or reassuring gesture, but all the same, it makes my heart swell, knowing I’m doing the right thing by talking to the mafia boss’s wife.

  To be honest, mafia boss stereotype aside, Seven’s boss has been nothing but kind and patient with me. A little scary, yes, but never once has he actually made me feel threatened.

  “So, I just…” Lacey stammers once we’ve rounded the corner… “I just wanted to check and see if you were okay?”

  Her steel grey eyes are so much like her daughter’s, although hers are much more haunted. I wonder why? What has she gone through to become a mafia boss’s wife?

  “I’m okay. I think I’m a little bit in shock, to be honest. But I feel lucky.” I glance up at her through my hair. “Lacey, your husband and Seven…” I feel my cheeks redden. “They saved my life.”

  A cry bursts out of Lacey so unexpectedly. She tries to pull it back by gritting her jaw, but there’s pain in her eyes. I don’t know what I said!

  “Are you okay? Lacey? Hey…” I touch her shoulder gently. “What’s wrong?”

  She’s turned away from me, hands fisted and trembling lightly.

  “You can talk to me. I promise, I’m a great listener. Comes with being a doctor and all.”

  Lacey looks over and gives me a light smile.

  “I’m fine. Don’t worry about me. I’m so glad you’re safe. If you ever need anything, just let me know.”

  “Hey,” I murmur, “I’m here, too. What’s wrong?”

  Lacey sighs and runs a hand through her sandy blonde hair.

  “My daughter, Rose, knows about what Adam does. I-I don’t know how she found out.” Lacey squeezes her eyes. Tears fall. “I just want my children to live happy, normal lives and I don’t know how to make that happen.”

  “Lacey, children are so resilient. So smart. If he is an amazing father to her, if he is kind to you and nonviolent when they are around, that’s how they’ll know him. Even if they go through phases fearing what he does, they’ll always remember his love. I’ve seen and experienced this time and time again. Give Rose time to come to terms with whatever she found out about her dad, then have him talk to her. Not beg for her love or ask who told her, but have a heart to heart. Father to daughter. I promise that’ll help.”

  I offer her a reassuring smile.

  “If there’s anything I can do, I have lots of resources. I know just about every child-friendly therapist in town. I have ones I can recommend.”

  “Do you know any doctors or specialists who can help with Rose’s lisp?”

  “Oh, yes! I would see a speech therapist. It could also be a psychological issue. Her lisp isn’t fully a lisp. It sounds more like baby talk, which is… interesting.” Shaking my hea
d, I mumble, “Regardless. A speech therapist is where she should start. I know a great one. Dr. Rabutcha. She’s literally incredible! I’ve seen her work miracles.”

  I offer her a reassuring smile.

  “Rose is so young, Lacey. There are so many professionals out there who can help her with whatever comes up. If you both are good parents, love on her, and get her help when she needs it, I can promise she’ll thrive. It’s science.”

  I grab her wrist and squeeze.

  “Does that help at all?”

  “That helps a lot. A whole lot. Thank you so much, Isla. Seriously. You don’t know what it means to me. I never expected to be a mom. I don’t want to fail her.”

  “Of course. No problem at all. I feel kinda bad that I’m giving you all this advice after your husband’s ‘no leaving the mansion for doctors’ tirade, but…” I shrug carelessly. “It’s the advice I’ve got.”

  Lacey smiles coyly. “Don’t worry about it. I’m pretty sure I can get my way on this issue.”

  A laugh bursts out of me. “I’m sure you can.”

  There’s an awkward pause. We both shuffle our feet before Lacey’s head pops up.

  “Tomorrow, Sage, Rose—oh, not my daughter, my best friend,” she laughs. “She’s named after her, long story. Sage, Rose, and I are taking a yoga class. We’d love for you to join us. I… well, I don’t love going out much. Neither does Sage, so I have a yoga teacher coming here and we’re gonna eat junk food out on the patio after. Healthy junk food. Sage is very health conscious, so she’s bringing treats. But don’t feel pressure. If it scares you at all, we can keep in touch another way. I know this place can be… strange.”

  “Umm, that sounds really fun. The mansion makes me a little… uneasy. Where will the yoga be?”

  “How about we do it outside? The weather is supposed to be nice. We have an outrageous backyard. Would that be better for you?”

  “Way better.”

  “Perfect! I’m excited, Isla. And like I said, if you need to talk, I’m here.”

  “Thanks, Lacey. Same. What time should I come over?”

  “Yoga teacher comes at ten.”

  “Alright, I…” Technically, I work. For the first time in my life, that truly bothers me. I’m actually turning away a chance at a life.

 

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