The Tyrant (Banker Book 3)

by Penelope Sky

  The Tyrant

  Banker #3

  Penelope Sky

  Hartwick Publishing

  The Tyrant

  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.

  Contents

  1. Cato

  2. Siena

  3. Cato

  4. Siena

  5. Cato

  6. Siena

  7. Cato

  8. Siena

  9. Cato

  10. Siena

  11. Cato

  12. Siena

  13. Cato

  14. Siena

  15. Cato

  16. Siena

  17. Cato

  18. Siena

  19. Cato

  20. Siena

  21. Cato

  22. Siena

  23. Cato

  24. Siena

  25. Cato

  26. Siena

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  1

  Cato

  Weeks passed, and we didn’t discuss what happened in Florence. Maybe she was waiting for me to say it, to whisper those words to her when she least expected it. That wasn’t going to happen, so I was glad we didn’t have to talk about it again.

  I didn’t enjoy hurting her.

  But I wouldn’t say it just to make her happy.

  We were both asleep in the middle of the night when she became restless, kicking her feet and whimpering in her sleep. Then she jolted upright and rested her hand on her stomach. “God, do you ever stop kicking?”

  My heavy eyes opened to take in her frame in the darkness. She held herself up with one arm while the other gently stroked her stomach. She breathed hard through the kicks, tensing up in a way she never had before.

  I sat up and placed my hand over her stomach, but I didn’t feel any kicking. “Baby, I don’t feel anything.”

  “Well, I feel pain…”

  All the sleepiness left my eyes, and I shifted into action. I got out of bed and pulled on the first pair of jeans I could find. I threw on a shirt and a jacket then picked out something for her. “Baby, get dressed.”

  “Where are we going?” She slowly rose to her feet, her hand still on her stomach.

  “We’re going to the hospital, just to make sure everything is okay.”

  “God, do you think there’s something wrong?” She grabbed the clothes I picked out for her and quickly pulled them on.

  “I’m sure everything is fine, but I’d rather be safe than sorry.” I pulled out my phone and called my team to prepare the car. Then I had my security captain call the hospital before we arrived so they knew I was coming. Siena wasn’t going to wait even a minute to be seen by someone.

  I helped her down the stairs and out the front door.

  She kept gripping her stomach. “It hurts.”

  “It’ll be alright.” I helped her into the back seat, and we finally drove off. I put the heater on full blast and then wrapped my arms around her. “I’m sure Martina is fine, Siena. Your body is going through a lot right now. Just remember that. It’s probably normal.”

  “God, I hope so.” She breathed hard as she gripped her stomach. “I couldn’t handle it if something happened to her… She’s everything to me. I love her so much.” Her eyes filled with a sheen of tears.

  My heart snapped in two. “I love her too. If she’s anything like either of us, she’s strong. She’ll get through this.” I held Siena close to me and brushed my lips along her hairline. I tried to do anything to keep her calm. Siena wasn’t the type of person to respond emotionally to trauma, but the pregnancy clouded her pragmatism.

  “I hope so…”

  We got in to see the doctor right away, and after running some tests, they determined Siena was experiencing Braxton Hicks contractions, a common occurrence in pregnant women. The contraction of the uterus was the source of her discomfort. She must have thought Martina was kicking because she was half asleep, her faculties slow.

  “You’re sure she’s alright?” Siena asked as she sat back on the hospital bed, her hands on her stomach.

  “Absolutely,” the doctor reassured her. “But you made the right decision coming in tonight. The contractions should stop in a few hours. Try to stay comfortable until they pass.” He walked out and left us alone in the room.

  I kept a straight face because it was my job to stay calm, but the relief that washed over me almost made me weak in the knees. When she’d gripped her stomach like that, I’d feared something much worse was happening. The pregnancy had been a complete accident and I’d never wanted a kid, but Martina was such a part of our lives now, and I would be devastated if something happened to her.

  Or Siena.

  The tears welled up in her eyes again, wet and shiny.

  “Baby, what’s wrong?”

  “Nothing,” she whispered. “I’m just so happy she’s okay…”

  I placed my hand in the center of hers and kissed her forehead. “Me too. At least if this happens again, we’ll know exactly what it is.”

  “I hope this is a one-time thing because it’s pretty painful.”

  “The doctor said it’ll pass.” I took her hand and guided her off the table. She was halfway through her pregnancy, and her belly was getting bigger with every passing week. She’d switched to maternity clothes just to stay comfortable. “Let’s get you home and in bed.”

  “Okay. Thanks for getting me here so quickly. I know you arranged all that.” She grabbed her clothes from the chair and slipped out of her gown. “Whenever I get scared, I know you’ll make sure everything is okay.”

  I watched her lower her shirt over her head and then pull her sweatpants up her body. Instead of admiring her figure, I focused on her side profile. The only reason I’d spared her life was because of the baby growing inside her, but now I didn’t just want to take care of Martina. I wanted to take care of Siena too, to protect both of them. “Baby, I’ll always take care of you.”

  It was a cold December. Fog pressed against the windows downstairs in the kitchen, and the sky was constantly overcast. The walk from my car to the office always sent chills down my spine. The weather in central Italy could be so drastically different. The summers were so hot and humid that it could be unbearable, and the winters turned so cold that it almost snowed. If I had to choose, I preferred winter. It was too hot in the summer to wear my expensive suits.

  Siena sat across from me at the dining table. She’d finished most of her dinner then sipped her water. Her belly was getting so big that she had to sit farther away from the table so she wouldn’t accidentally bump it. “When are we putting up the Christmas tree? Christmas is a week away.”

  I finished my last bite of the salmon and washed it down with a sip of water. “We don’t put up a tree.”

  Dumbfounded, she stared at me like I’d said something much worse. “Excuse me?”

  “We don’t put up any decorations.”

  “Because…?” Her eyebrow was still raised, and she looked utterly appalled.

  “Because we don’t,” I said simply. “Never have.”

  “What’s wrong with you?” she blurted. “It’s Christmas. You have to put up a tree.”

  I never got invested in the holidays. My family got together for Christmas dinner and exch
anged a few gifts, but we didn’t make a big fuss about it. Christmas eve was the best night to pick up tail. Any woman in a bar on Christmas eve was depressed, and she fucked like being good in bed would fix all her problems. “Why?”

  She threw her arms down. “Because it’s Christmas. That’s what you’re supposed to do. I always have a tree up at my place even though there are very few presents under it. It’s the spirit of the season.”

  “Well, you know I don’t have much spirit.”

  “What about Giovanni and the rest of the staff? They’d probably like a tree.”

  “I don’t care what Giovanni and the rest of the staff want. This is my house.”

  She rolled her eyes. “Grinch.”

  “What did you just call me?”

  “Grinch,” she said louder. “You know, that big green thing that lives in a cave alone and hates Christmas.”

  “Just because I don’t put up a tree doesn’t make me a big green hamster.”

  “He’s not a hamster.”

  “Whatever.” I drank my water again.

  “Well, I live here too, and I want a tree.” She turned to the kitchen. “Giovanni, you’d like a tree too, right?”

  Giovanni’s eyes moved back and forth between mine and hers, as if he didn’t want to answer for fear of retaliation from either of us. “I need to check the oven…” He walked off.

  “See?” I said. “He doesn’t want a tree.”

  “Oh yes, he does. He just doesn’t want to piss you off.”

  “Smart man.”

  “Cato, I want a tree.” She looked me in the eye as she made her demand, using that sexy confidence to get what she wanted. “When Martina is here, we’re going to have wonderful Christmases for her to remember. We’re going to do it then, so we may as well do it now.”

  “Why is this so important to you?”

  “Because my family always used to get into the spirit of the holidays. We would up put the tree together every year. Even Landon would help. Why are you so against it?”

  “I’m not. It’s just something I’ve never done. Never had time.”

  Disappointment filled her eyes. “What’s the point of working so hard if you don’t stop to enjoy it? If you doubled the amount of money in your account, would you really be happy? Or would you be unhappier because you’d realize that nothing makes you happy?”

  She often made such sharp observations about my character, and they always made me reflect on who I was. It made me realize how lonely I was, how all the money and all the women in the world hadn’t made me happy. So far, there was only one thing that ever made me smile—and I was looking at her. “It’s not just about the money. It’s about the accomplishment. It’s about growing something you created.”

  “I understand that, but you’re already on top of the world, Cato. Do you really need to grow it anymore?”

  “If you aren’t growing, you’re stagnant. And if you’re stagnant, that’s a red flag.”

  “But when you’re a multibillionaire, who cares?”

  “It keeps everyone in line.”

  “That is way too much work,” she said. “There’s not enough money in the world to make me sacrifice my life like that.”

  “But it’s given me the ability to take care of you, to give you a luxurious life that makes you feel safe.”

  Instead of being touched by what I said, she shook her head slightly like I’d said the wrong thing. “We could be living at my old place, and that would be just fine. As long as we have food on the table and electricity, our happiness would be exactly the same. You could do your share of the work by keeping me warm at night.”

  The memory of her house brought me an unexpected bout of longing. There was something about that cozy house I loved. It was simple, peaceful. My estate was a comfortable palace, but it lacked that quality. “Or I could fix your furnace.”

  “Like you know how,” she teased. “And paying someone to fix it doesn’t count.”

  “I have more talents besides making money.”

  “Like sex?” she asked. “I’ll give you that.”

  That was quite a personal comment to make in front of Giovanni, but I didn’t care.

  “Back to the point,” she said. “Let’s put up a Christmas tree. That entryway is so tall that we could put up something big with lots of lights and decorations.”

  “I don’t have any.”

  “Then we’ll go buy them. Come on. Please?”

  If this was so important to her, I wouldn’t deny her. “I have work tomorrow.”

  “Whatever. Blow it off. When you’re dead, you can’t take that money with you. And your legacy, your daughter, isn’t going to remember how much money you made. She’s going to remember your laugh and your smile. She’s going to remember all the time you spent together. You’ve conquered the business world. Now you need to focus on conquering the personal world.”

  We bought the biggest tree we could find. Thirteen feet tall, it was a tree that wouldn’t fit into an average house. We picked out the lights and decorations from a holiday shop then went across the street to get hot chocolate.

  She sat across from me at a table by the window, her eyes lit up brighter than the Christmas trees inside the windows of the shops. She had an ethereal glow that had nothing to do with the pregnancy. Her smile was so natural and infectious, bringing a warmth that was hotter than the hot chocolates in our hands.

  I’d lost track of what she’d said because I was staring at her so intently. This woman had been the only one in my bed more than half a year. I still had the urge to fuck her in the alleyway, still wanted to hop in with her in the shower, and still wanted to take her missionary so I could watch her face while I fucked her. Now I slept with her every night, and all the cuddling didn’t bother me. I liked feeling her next to me because I knew exactly where she was, that she was safe.

  “Cato?”

  My eyes focused on the words coming out of her mouth. “Yes?”

  “Some guy came up to the window and took our picture with a big camera.” She pointed to the window, which had frost filling up the corners.

  “Yeah, they do that.” I hadn’t been photographed in months because I never went out anymore. I went straight home after work, and my property was closed to the public so they couldn’t see Siena inside. Now that we were out and about, shopping for Christmas decorations, it was the perfect opportunity to catch me off guard. “But you knew that already since you stalked me.”

  “And you just ignore it?”

  I shrugged. “Nothing I can do about it anyway.”

  “Couldn’t you threaten to kill anyone who publishes it?”

  “It’ll still circulate online. I could take everything down, but having those pictures still helps my image. If anyone wants to know, they’ll see how fascinated the world is with me.”

  “Does the world know you’re having a baby?”

  “No. But I’m sure they’ll find out soon enough.” I didn’t care about keeping that secret because it was simply impossible. People would find out one way or another. If someone really wanted to dig deep, they could find my trust and see who I was leaving my assets to. Martina Marino didn’t exist, but it was easy enough to guess who that person was.

  “Does that concern you?”

  I shook my head. “It’s inevitable.”

  She took a drink of her hot chocolate, looking stunning in her long-sleeved red t-shirt. It fit the curve of her tits nicely. As her pregnancy progressed, her boobs got bigger. They also got firmer, rounder. Her nipples were two irresistible diamonds. The size of her hips and thighs increased, but that didn’t bother me. She’d always been on the slender side, so now she was filling out nicely. My attraction for her was growing to dangerous proportions. Men always complained about how fat their women got during pregnancy, but now I didn’t understand it one bit. There was nothing sexier than watching your woman’s body grow your child. Her curves were more pronounced, and her figure was fuller. It turned m
e into a more sexual man than I’d been before.

  She watched me stare at her. “What?”

  My mind came back to reality. “Just looking at you.”

  “But you had this look on your face…”

  I shrugged. “Because I can’t believe how beautiful you are.”

  Giovanni seemed even more excited to decorate the tree than Siena was. “These ornaments are beautiful. You did a great job picking them out, Mr. Marino.”

  “That was Siena.” I’d just agreed with everything she showed me.

  Giovanni stood at the top of the ladder and added the ornaments on the branches.

  Siena decorated the bottom part of the tree because she wasn’t allowed to use the ladder at all. “It’s already looking so beautiful.”

  I attached the ornaments to the hooks before I handed them to her, letting her choose where they went. I found it more entertaining to watch Siena walk around anyway, especially when her back was turned to me and her ass looked incredible.

  It took us several hours to get the tree completely decorated, especially since Siena and Giovanni wanted it to be perfect.

  The entryway into the house was so large that it actually looked better with the Christmas tree as the focal point. It filled the space nicely, like it should be there all the time. When it was completed, Siena stepped back to admire the twinkling lights and the shiny ornaments. She crossed her arms over her chest and stared at her handiwork.

  Instead of looking at the tree, I looked at her. I watched the glow in her eyes, the way her happiness shone brighter than the lights on the Christmas tree. Little things like this made her the happiest, not the expensive cars in my garage or the designer suits in my closet. She cared about the little things in life, moments she would remember forever.