by Julia Sykes
“I thought I might work in a museum or a gallery for a while,” I replied.
My stomach twisted violently, and I stifled a gasp. I’d never had a nervous reaction this intense before. Then again, I’d never been surrounded by mobsters before. Maybe I was on the verge of a panic attack.
Whatever it was, I needed to excuse myself before I freaked out in front of everyone.
“You okay, angel?”
“Yeah,” I said shakily. “I um, I just need the restroom. Excuse me.”
My body burned with embarrassment. Sweat beaded on my brow, and I pushed up out of my chair.
I didn’t make it two steps before pain knifed through my gut, intense enough to knock the air from my lungs and make my knees weak. Joseph was with me in an instant, catching me before I collapsed.
“Sorry,” I said faintly. “I don’t know—”
I doubled over on a harsh cry as my stomach twisted again. Acid coated my tongue, and a foamy substance dripped from my lips.
I was vaguely aware of Marco shouting for an ambulance, Joseph saying my name over and over again. My body convulsed, pain wracking my senses as everything faded to black.
Chapter Twenty
Joseph
I paced back and forth across the hospital waiting room, my gut twisting with fear I’d never known before.
Poison. Ashlyn had taken the poison meant for my father.
She could die.
I didn’t understand how Marco could bear sitting still in the tiny waiting room chair. His face was ashen, his eyes staring at something far away I couldn’t see.
Inexplicable rage surged. How could he sit there when Ashlyn’s life hung in the balance? How could he hunch his shoulders like he’d already given up on her?
“She’s going to be fine,” I growled at him, even though I didn’t fully believe it. I had to say it out loud, because Marco looked like he was already at her fucking funeral.
He scrubbed a hand over his face. “My fault,” he muttered, and I was certain he hadn’t meant to say the words aloud.
In my anger, I caught on to the admission. We weren’t sure who had slipped the poison into my father’s wine, but if Marco knew who was responsible, he’d better spill. If he was holding back on us for some reason, I’d kick his teeth in. My fury coursed through me, desperate for an outlet. Taking it out on the motherfucker who was responsible for this would be a good start.
“What do you mean?” I barked. “Do you know who did this?”
He finally looked at me, his black eyes drawn with anguish. “I did.”
I wasn’t sure what he was playing at or who he was trying to protect, but that simply couldn’t be true. “What do you know about this? Tell me right fucking now, Marco.”
His gaze shifted. His eyes met mine, but he was focused on something I couldn’t see again.
“I did this,” he rasped. “I took her. I brought her into our world.”
“Fuck off,” I seethed. I didn’t need any melodramatic bullshit right now. “You know we didn’t have a choice. She was in danger.”
“She wasn’t. But I took her anyway.”
I froze. “What the fuck are you talking about?” I couldn’t stop cussing. Spitting out the crass words helped channel my anger.
He blinked and stared at me again, but his eyes were hollow. “You were so unhappy without her. So, I gave her back to you.”
“I don’t know what you’re trying to say, but you’d better start making sense. Snap the fuck out of it. You know our enemies were watching her. They were going to hurt her to get to me.”
“They weren’t,” he said on a strained whisper. “I didn’t know that for sure. I knew it was a possibility they’d been watching you in Cambridge, but there wasn’t a threat against her after you left. Not really.”
My mind churned, struggling to absorb what he was saying. Marco wouldn’t betray me like that. He wouldn’t pull Ashlyn into our world without a good reason. Not when he knew I’d left her behind to protect her.
“But Ricky threatened her at the restaurant when we took her off the estate. He said they had pictures of us together. They’d been watching the estate since we took her.”
“They might have known about your relationship in Cambridge, but they had no reason to think you still cared for her after you left her behind. She probably wasn’t on their radar until I brought her to you.”
“You can’t know that for sure,” I said, still unable to process the depth of his betrayal.
He surged to his feet, getting in my face. “This is my fault, Joseph. Why aren’t you listening to me? It’s my fucking fault. And now she might die. She—”
Whatever he was going to say next was cut off when my fist connected with his jaw. I didn’t hold back, and he reeled at the force of the blow. He took a few steps back and shook his head hard to clear it.
He didn’t tense with aggression. He didn’t take a defensive stance.
He simply stared at me, as though he wanted me to hit him again, to punish him for his unforgivable sin.
“Hey!” a security guard appeared in the waiting room. “Break it up. You’re both going to have to leave.”
Marco rubbed his jaw and turned away from me. “I’m going,” he told the man. “Joseph can stay.”
I watched as he stalked off down the long hallway. My stomach dropped, my chest hollowed out.
Marco had betrayed me. He’d put the woman I loved in danger, for his own selfish reasons.
No, he’d done it for me.
And that only made his choice that much more inexcusable. He’d made me complicit in this. It was equally my fault that Ashlyn was fighting for her life right now. Because I’d chosen to keep her with me instead of sending her to the police for protection. Marco’s reasoning that we were protecting her was just a flimsy excuse for me to keep her. I’d wanted her to be mine, so I’d taken her.
“Mr. Russo?” a nurse in green scrubs called my name.
She’s not dead, I told myself in the long second it took for the man to speak. She’s not dead.
“Miss Meyers is stable. She’s going to be okay. You can come see her, if you want.”
My knees almost went out from under me as relief slammed through my body. My legs shook as I followed the nurse to her hospital room, but somehow, I managed to walk without stumbling.
When I got to her room, I rushed to her side, taking her small hand in mine. It was warm, reassuring me that she was alive. But the pretty pink flush was absent from her cheeks, and her full lips were chapped and pale.
She stirred when I stroked my thumb over her palm.
“Joseph?” she mumbled. She didn’t open her eyes, and I wasn’t sure if she was fully awake. She certainly wasn’t completely aware of her surroundings. I’d always known she was fragile, but it pained me to see her so frail.
“I’m right here, angel,” I promised. “I’m not going anywhere.”
“Where’s Marco?” she slurred.
Rage made my muscles ripple and flex, but I was careful not to squeeze her delicate hand.
“Go to sleep, angel,” I said instead of answering her. “You need to rest.”
A little furrow persisted between her brows, but a few seconds later, it eased. Her breathing turned deep and even.
My eyes burned.
Our fault.
My fault.
I never should have kept her for myself. For us.
Now, it was too late to send her back to the safety of her life at Harvard. That was shattered, now that my father’s enemies were aware that she was with me. They knew she was important to me, since I’d brought her to New York.
Since Marco had brought her to New York.
I’d been angry with him in the past, but I’d never felt this toxic rage. It held a burning edge of hatred that made my stomach sour.
I might have no choice but to take Ashlyn back to the safety of his family’s estate, but what Marco and I had shared was broken. He wasn’t my brother any
more, and Ashlyn would never belong to him. She was mine, and mine alone.
It had been three days since I’d brought Ashlyn back to the estate, but she was still weak, and she tired easily. Really, she should still be in the hospital, but I didn’t want to risk her. She was safest on Marco’s estate, behind the impenetrable gates.
So, we had an on-call doctor come check on her twice a day. Other than that, I took care of her.
And Marco kept his fucking distance, as he should.
She’d asked for him several times, but I’d told her he was busy in the city, helping my father track down the fuckers who had tried to poison him. Of course, we knew who was ultimately responsible, but we couldn’t go after Gabriel Costa until someone turned on him. Whoever had tried to poison Dad had to say they were working under Costa’s orders. Otherwise, we’d be the ones instigating the war, and the family might not survive that. It was essential that my father came out on top, with the family intact and as powerful as ever.
I was grateful that the task of finding the traitor kept Marco away, but part of me wanted to help. Twice, Marco had returned with blood on his hands, his knuckles split. He got to be out there, hurting the people who had hurt Ashlyn. And while I didn’t like my violent lifestyle, I wouldn’t mind beating the shit out of whoever was responsible for almost taking her from me.
As it was, Marco only showed his face if he was bringing Ashlyn’s meals to her in the bedroom. He wisely left them on the nightstand and let me feed her. If he tried to pull any Daddy shit with her in front of me, I’d punch him again. He didn’t get to be her Daddy. He didn’t get to take on that responsibility. He’d lost the privilege.
Ashlyn seemed upset when he’d leave, but mostly, she slept.
Today, she was brighter, more alert. She’d been awake for nearly three hours this afternoon, and she was sitting in bed, propped up against the pillows. I’d brought a TV in from one of the guest bedrooms so we could watch Sons of Anarchy together. I sat in bed beside her, and she rested her head on my shoulder.
I couldn’t stop touching her, couldn’t stop feeling her warmth and inhaling her light, floral scent. I’d almost lost her, and I had to reassure myself that she was alive and safe in my arms.
Marco knocked on his bedroom door, waiting for me to invite him to enter. When I did, he stepped into the room, carrying two steaming plates of pasta. He’d been cooking blander dishes for Ashlyn, making sure she could keep the food down while still getting enough calories.
He set the plates on the nightstand, not looking at either of us.
“Marco,” Ashlyn said, her voice soft and pleading. “Come sit with us.”
He tensed, but he jerked his head in silent refusal and turned away. She reached out and caught his wrist.
“Wait. Don’t go. I want to talk to you.”
“I’m sorry,” he rasped and pulled his hand free from her weak grip.
“Come back.” I was sure she meant to sound firm, but she was still too weak to put any real force behind the demand.
He kept walking, his movements stiff but determined.
“Daddy, please. I need you.”
He froze, and I tensed.
“It’s okay, angel.” I tried to sound soothing. “Marco can’t stay.” I made that sharper, letting Marco know he wasn’t welcome.
“No!” she insisted. “I need you. Both of you. Please stay, Marco.”
My arm firmed around her. “He doesn’t deserve to be here.”
Marco turned to face her. His eyes were tight with anguish, but his distress did little to melt my icy rage.
“He’s right,” Marco said. “I don’t deserve you. I’m sorry.”
“Of course you do,” she said. “We’re supposed to be together. All of us.”
“You don’t know what he did,” I ground out.
“Whatever it is, I don’t care,” she declared. She reached for Marco, her fingers straining toward him, beseeching. “I love you, Marco. Please, don’t go.”
All the air left my chest, but before ugly jealousy could rise, she turned her sapphire eyes on me.
“And I love you, Joseph. I love both of you. I need both of you.” She looked back at Marco. “Please, Daddy. Don’t go.”
He groaned and closed the distance between them, unable to resist her allure when she admitted her need for him. He knelt by the bed and took her hand in both of his, holding her carefully.
“I can’t be with you, babygirl,” he forced out. “You’re supposed to be with Joseph. I’m not good for you.”
“I’ve told you before, but I guess you forgot,” she said, her voice gaining a little strength. “You deserve to be loved, Marco. And I love you, just the way you are. No matter what.”
His eyes were dark with pain and longing. “But I kidnapped you. I brought you here, and now you’re in danger.”
“I was in danger before you took me. That’s why you brought me here, isn’t it? And when the danger has passed, we can go back to Cambridge. All of us.”
My heart squeezed. Ashlyn had created a pretty little fantasy in her mind. It was past time I gave her the truth about her future.
“We might never be able to go back, angel,” I said quietly. “You weren’t under threat at Harvard. Not after I left. But Marco took you anyway. And I chose to keep you. Now, you might not ever be able to go back. And it’s our fault.”
Our fault. Not just Marco’s. Because I’d done this to her, too. From the moment I’d first met her, I’d wanted her. I’d tried to stay away, but eventually, I broke down. Selfishly, I started a relationship with her, even though I knew it was dangerous for her to associate with me. Just because I’d tried to leave her behind in Cambridge, that didn’t absolve me.
“I never should have come near you,” I admitted, my strain matching Marco’s. We were both at fault, and now Ashlyn’s life would never be the same. “You might never get to go back. You might never be able to have the life you wanted.”
“That wasn’t the life I wanted,” she said firmly. “You helped me see that. I made choices to meet other people’s expectations of me. That’s not how I want to live my life. I want to make my own choices. I want to be with the two of you. Don’t you want to be with me?” She softened on the last, suddenly uncertain.
“Of course we want to be with you, princess,” Marco said. “But we shouldn’t—”
“Don’t tell me what I should and shouldn’t do,” she said with sudden ferocity. “I get to make my own choices from now on, and I choose you and Joseph. We can figure the rest out later. I love you. Both of you.”
I love you. I’d waited so long to hear those words fall from her perfect lips.
“I’ve always loved you, Ashlyn,” I admitted. I’d known she was mine from the moment I laid eyes on her. My complicated life had kept me at a distance from her, but now, I couldn’t hold back any longer.
“I love you, too, babygirl,” Marco said with the weight of an oath.
She smiled and sank back into the pillows. “Good. Now, get in bed and cuddle with us. We can put on Parks and Recreation, if you want,” she offered, knowing Marco preferred sitcoms.
He gave her a lopsided grin. “You have to eat your dinner first, princess. Then, we can cuddle all you want.”
My best friend was back; the self-destructive, miserable man he’d become over the last few days was gone. I was happy to see that man go.
“Marco,” I said his name solemnly, calling his attention to me. “I’m sorry for punching you. I owe you one.”
Now that we’d earned Ashlyn’s forgiveness and love, I couldn’t hate Marco. I couldn’t regret my choices or his actions, because they’d brought Ashlyn into our lives.
“No one’s punching anyone,” she interjected firmly.
Marco chuckled. “Okay, princess. Whatever you say.”
Ashlyn might do as we told her, but we’d do anything for her. She was ours, but we belonged to her.
Chapter Twenty-One
Ashlyn
Good. It was past time we all started living for ourselves instead of bowing to pressure from our parents. After all, I hadn’t been the target of the poisoning. If someone was out to get Joseph’s father, that was his business.
I let out a happy little hum as I sank into the warm bath. Ever since we’d all admitted our love for one another, Marco had been more attentive than ever. He took his responsibilities for my wellbeing very seriously. Between Joseph’s constant affection and Marco’s daily pampering, I felt like the luckiest woman in the world.
“It’s not too hot is it, babygirl?” Marco asked as the water level rose higher, fluffy bubbles covering my abdomen.
“It’s perfect.”
I smiled up at him where he knelt beside the tub. At first, I’d thought it was odd that he didn’t want to get in the massive bath with me. But I’d quickly realized that he wanted to take care of me. This was more than sensual play for him. It was an essential part of who he was. He needed this from me: my trust, my love.
He returned my smile and reached for the showerhead that was attached to the faucet. He’d never done that before. Usually, he massaged my shoulders and washed my hair while I languished in the warm water. This time, he’d piled my hair on top of my head in a bun, keeping it from getting wet.
When the bath was only half-full, he turned the knob so the water sprayed from the showerhead. He directed the spray away from my body while he squirted body wash onto a pink loofa.
He brushed the soapy loofa over my shoulders, applying light pressure at my nape as he rubbed in soothing little circles. My eyes slid closed, and I reveled in the feel of Marco caressing my body.