by Penelope Sky
The Dictator
Banker #2
Penelope Sky
Hartwick Publishing
The Dictator
Copyright © 2019 by Penelope Sky
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
1
Siena
Men collected my things from the house and brought them to the three-story mansion in Tuscany. They took all my clothes and whatever essentials they thought were necessary.
I wasn’t given a choice in the matter.
My house would stand there uninhabited. Landon would eventually realize I was missing and Cato was still alive. He would probably assume I was dead until he heard the rumors that Cato was expecting a child.
He would be relieved I was alright.
Until nine months from now.
My bedroom had a private bathroom, a small living room, and a balcony that overlooked the front of Cato’s property. He owned acres of land and paid top dollar for a tall wall to surround his home, green ivy growing over the limestone. Anyone else would think they were in paradise.
I knew I was in a prison.
Cato hadn’t spoken to me in three days. He stayed in his bedroom or left the house to go to work. Realistically, he couldn’t avoid me forever, but if he had it his way, he probably would. He would just wait for me to deliver the baby nine months later without looking at me once.
I sat on the edge of the bed and pressed my hand over my stomach. It was as flat as ever with no noticeable changes. But my hand felt life growing inside, the son or daughter I never meant to make. My birth control was still active, but doctors said it was only ninety-nine percent effective.
Perhaps Cato was that one percent.
The most beautiful thing had happened to me, and the fact that I would never get to appreciate it broke my heart. My child needed a mother. More importantly, I needed a child. I would bond with them over the next nine months, get to know them so intimately. Once they left my body, I would be both sad and happy. But then that bliss would be taken away from me.
And I would be buried six feet under.
I would never be able to change Cato’s mind. With his brother looming over his shoulder and the world thinking he was a fool, he couldn’t take back his decision.
Feeling powerless was the worst part of all this.
My face looked better now that the swelling had gone down, but the area around my eye was still blue and my lip discolored. The pain was still there most of the time, but after a week, it should be gone.
My bedroom door opened, and Cato entered, dressed in a navy suit. He didn’t knock the way Giovanni did. Just like he did at my home, he welcomed himself inside without warning. In this instance, this was his home…so he really could do whatever he wanted. With one hand in his pocket, he walked toward me, his eyes examining the bruises on my face. “Let’s go.”
“Where are we going?”
He walked out without answering me.
I slipped on my shoes and headed down the stairs to join him. He spoke to Giovanni quietly as he waited, both hands in his pockets. He towered over his butler and filled out the suit better than a mannequin.
Once I came to Cato’s side, he walked out the front door to the car that was waiting for us.
A part of me was nervous he was going to shoot me in the driveway, but the car brought me peace of mind. I got into the back seat, and we left for Florence.
Cato looked out the window and didn’t say a word to me.
“Where are we going?” I repeated.
His hand gripped his left knee, his fancy watch reflecting the summer light. He was a large man who needed a large car like this. He could barely fit inside my bed. “These nine months will be a lot smoother if you don’t talk.” He didn’t even give me the respect of looking at me when he spoke.
“I’m going to die in nine months anyway. So I may as well do what I want.”
He turned to me, his gaze vicious.
Now that a gun wasn’t pointed in my face, my resilience had returned. I’d never been the kind of woman to take shit from anybody. As long as I was immune, I wouldn’t take shit from him either. “Now tell me where we are going.”
His jaw clenched harder. “Just because I won’t kill you today doesn’t mean I won’t bust that pretty lip and blacken that other eye.”
The insult washed over me with no effect. I’d never forget the relief I felt when Cato pulled Bates off me. His fist was cruel, and if he’d hit me one more time, he would have broken my nose or cheekbone. As it was, the pain had been excruciating. Cato could have done nothing, but he protected me instead. “We both know you won’t. Don’t pretend to be something you aren’t.”
He faced forward and shook his head slightly. “You don’t know me very well.”
“I do know you, actually. And you aren’t a monster.”
“No. I’m worse than a monster.”
When the war began, he struck me in the car and made my head slam into the window, but it was a tame hit compared to what Bates had done to me. It was nothing in comparison. If that was the worst he could do, then I was in good company. “Cato—”
“I don’t want to hear it.” He must have picked up on the emotion in my voice. He must have predicted the words about to tumble out. “Save your apology. I don’t want to listen to it.”
“I wasn’t going to apologize.”
He turned back to me. Now he looked like he really wanted to hit me.
“You want to know where this scar came from?” I touched my left shoulder.
He followed my fingers but didn’t ask the question.
“Damien broke in to my house, hunted me down, and when I refused to surrender, he shot me. Then he dragged me to Micah and told me they had my father. If I didn’t bring you to them, they would kill him. And if I failed, Damien would get me all to himself—to play with his food before he ate it. It was nothing personal, Cato.”
“And I’ve never taken it that way. You did what you had to do—and I’ll do what I have to do.”
“In the beginning, I didn’t feel guilty about betraying you. I heard you were a terrible man.”
“And I am.” He faced forward again.
“It was when I got to know you that I realized you were a lot more than that. When it was just the two of us, you were charming, playful, and kind. The more time we spent together, the softer you became. I never expected to like you. I never expected to respect you. But once those feelings developed, I felt so terrible. I argued with myself for hours, trying to decide between you and my father. In the end, I turned that car around. I chose you.”
He wore the same indifference, like my speech meant nothing to him. His hand remained on his knee, and he looked out the window as the city of Florence became visible. “Here’s your answer. We’re checking to make sure that baby is mine.”
I ignored the insult that swept over my body. “It is, Cato.”
“I think so too. But I learned my lesson. Never trust anything that comes out of your mouth.”
2
Cato
The doctor handed me the results in private.
We were a match.
That baby was definitely mine.
“You’re certain?” I asked as I folded up the paper and placed it in my pocket.
“These kinds of tests are never wrong, Mr. Marino.”
I walked into the patient room and saw Siena standing there. She had put her dress and shoes back on now that the procedure was finished. Her brown hair was pulled back in a clip, and her eyelashes were th
ick with mascara. She’d done her best to cover the bruises on her face, but no amount of makeup could hide the damage.
I’d watched my brother beat her mercilessly, and despite my rage, I respected her for the way she handled it. Not once did she scream. Not once did she cry. She didn’t allow any audible sound to give my brother satisfaction.
And when I pointed the gun in her face, she didn’t piss herself.
She looked at me through those full lashes but didn’t ask what the results were.
She already knew.
I’d had her tested for diseases just to make sure. Her results were clean. I tested myself and got the same results. Maybe that was overboard, but I didn’t know this woman at all. I found it unlikely there was another man in the picture, not when I fucked her so well and so often, but I’d rather be safe than sorry.
Wordlessly, she walked out with me and returned to the car.
We left Florence and headed back to the house. Bates would meet me there so we could discuss the Beck brothers. They’d started drilling in a new location, but it didn’t seem like they’d made progress yet.
I hoped I didn’t have to kill his family.
She crossed her legs and sat quietly beside me, her hand resting across her flat stomach. Her gaze was directed out the window, and she wasn’t as talkative as she was earlier. Her black dress fit her curves nicely, and the pearls around her neck made her look like royalty. Whenever she was at the house, she dressed conservatively, like a librarian, but I found the look strangely arousing. She commanded respect with her clothing, and that forced me to respect her—to some degree.
I hadn’t had the chance to let the truth sink in. I’d been too angry to understand how drastically my life would change in nine months.
I would be a father.
I never wanted kids. I never wanted to be a father. This was the last thing I had any interest in.
But I would never forget how shitty it was not having a father. I would never forget how much it hurt me when I was young. Those abandonment issues followed me until I became a man and realized I didn’t need him.
If I turned my back on my child, I would be no better than him.
Couldn’t let that happen.
So now I was going to be a father.
A fucking father.
She turned to me, her pearl earrings catching the light. “How do you feel about this?”
The question made me angry enough to look at her. “I told you I didn’t want a family. How do you think I feel about this? Now I’m having a kid I never wanted to have. All because you lied to me.” Maybe that scar in her arm was old. Or maybe the implant had been deactivated over time. Or maybe it was a scar from something completely unrelated.
“I didn’t lie—”
“Women don’t get pregnant on birth control.”
“Well, I did,” she hissed. “I don’t know how it happened, but it did. You must have super sperm or something.”
I was too pissed to be pleased by that response. “We’re stuck in this situation for the next nine months. I say you stop lying and just be honest. A real man and a real woman tell the truth boldly. They don’t hide behind their lies. They have more balls than that.”
Her eyes narrowed to hostile slits. “I’m not lying, Cato. I really didn’t plan for this. When I kept getting sick, pregnancy didn’t even cross my mind. I’ve been on this regimen for a long time, and it’s never failed me.”
“So you have let a guy come inside you.” I should have known that was a lie too.
“No. That’s not what I said.”
“If you’re using condoms, then how do you know it ever really worked?”
“Condoms break all the time. A responsible woman always has a backup. And in case you forgot, you were the one who wanted to go bareback.”
“Because you enticed me.”
“Oh, that’s my fault?” she asked incredulously. “Women entice you all the time. I never pressured you into that relationship. You basically demanded it and didn’t give me a choice. So don’t rewrite history.”
No one ever stood up to me, and while it usually turned me on when she did it, right now it just annoyed me.
“It doesn’t make sense for me to do this on purpose. My job was supposed to be to hand you over to Damien. How does getting pregnant help with that? Explain the motivation behind that.”
I didn’t have any theories. It really made no sense for her to do that. But then an idea struck me. “Inheritance.” My eyes narrowed on her with a new sense of rage. “I die, and then our child gets everything. Which means you get everything.”
The hatred on her face matched mine. “I don’t want your money, Cato. I’ve never wanted your money, and I’ll never want it.”
“Right.”
She pressed her lips tightly together before she spoke. “Not all people are obsessed with money, Cato. Not everyone needs overwhelming security like you do. Truly happy people can have nothing and feel perfectly content. Only sad people need a billion dollars to feel secure.”
“I’m worth six billion.”
She rolled her eyes. “Is that supposed to impress me?”
“Impresses everyone else.”
“You know what does impress me?” she snapped. “The way your brother is so loyal to you. The way you’re loyal to him. The way you smile after you tease me. The way you fuck me four times in a row like you haven’t seen me in weeks even though it’s been one day. The way you look far more powerful naked than in the $10,000 suits you wear. The way you take care of your mother. The way you pulled your brother off me when he almost beat me to death. The way you lowered your gun when you knew there was another life at stake. That’s what impresses me, Cato. Not the size of your wallet. That’s what made me turn around. Because I actually care about you.”
I walked into the conference room downstairs and found Bates sitting with his feet on the desk, smoking a cigar while the Monet painting hung behind him.
“No smoking in here.” I sat across from him and eyed the painting on the wall. It was impossible for me to look at it and not think of the woman who picked it out for me. The beautiful colors of the flowers made me think of the brightness of her eyes, and the quiet stream reminded me of her home…even though there was no stream nearby.
“Why?” He took another puff. “I always smoke in here.”
I nodded to the painting on the wall. “Because of that.”
He let the smoke rise from his mouth as he turned his head to look at it. “Looks like a piece of trash that trash picked out.”
“It’s Monet, and I paid ten million for it. Put out your fucking cigar.”
Bates took another long puff before he smashed the cigar into the ashtray.
“Besides, with a pregnant woman around here, we can’t have any smoke anyway.”
“You just make me hate that bitch more and more…” He interlocked his fingers behind his head. “I can’t wait until we kill her. Executing traitors is one of my fetishes.”
I opened the folder and read through the contracts.
Bates kept staring at me. “I’m guessing you’re the father, then?”
“Yes.” I clicked the top of my pen and added my signature to the bottom of the page.
“Damn.” He shook his head. “We can still kill her, you know. We agreed we wouldn’t have families.”
I clicked my pen again so it wouldn’t dry out and looked at my brother. “I know what we agreed on. But shit happens.”
“Never fuck a woman without a condom.” He held up a finger. “Rule number one.”
I never should have broken that rule. “It is what it is, Bates.”
“The baby is like a week old?” he asked. “Does that really count?”
“Enough, Bates.”
“Come on, think about it.” He pulled his legs off the table and sat up, his elbows resting on the surface. “You have the baby, kill her, and then what? You’re changing diapers and reading bedtime stories? Having a kid is
n’t easy. Why do you think Father left us? Because it was fucking hard.”
“Nothing is too hard for me. I can handle it.”
“You say that now. Wait until you hear the constant screaming all day and all night. And how do you think this will affect your sex life?”
“I’ll get a nanny.”
“Doesn’t matter. At the end of the day, that little brat is still your responsibility.”
Regardless of my brother’s argument, I would never take my unborn baby’s life. “This way, we have a legacy. We have someone to pass the business down to. It’s not the worst thing in the world.”
“What if it’s a girl?” he countered. “She wouldn’t be able to hold her own.”
“If she’s my daughter, yes she will,” I said proudly. “I won’t raise a princess. I’ll raise a queen.”
“I still think you should reconsider.”
“Well, I never will. So drop it.”
He gave me that knowing look, the same look he’d been giving me all our lives.
“What?”
“Why do I feel like this has something to do with Siena?”
“Because it does. She’s the one who’s pregnant…in case you didn’t notice.”
“Maybe you’re more attached to this baby because she’s the mother.”
It was a ridiculous accusation. “If she weren’t pregnant, I would have killed her. You know I would have.” My finger wouldn’t have hesitated to pull the trigger. She was a traitor, and she deserved a traitor’s death.
“But when I was smashing my fist in her face, you told me to stop.”
“Because you were going to kill her. And I’m the one who deserved to take her life.”
He shook his head slightly. “I hope that’s the truth, Cato. Because she’s a snake in our garden. Never turn your back to a snake.”
I looked down at the contracts then pushed them across the table toward him. “Trust me, I won’t.”
3