I stand facing the floor-to-ceiling windows, admiring the view of Central Park in the near distance. “Alessandro is the best. I want the best men watching my future wife and my son.”
“When are you planning on breaking the news to Sierra?”
I turn around and take my seat behind the desk. “I’ll let things settle for a few weeks before I broach the subject.” Sierra has agreed I can visit with Rowan one day over the weekend. I plan to fly in and out on the same day because I’m too busy to leave New York for successive full weekends.
“Aside from you almost killing your best soldier, today went well,” Leo says, crossing an ankle over his knee.
“It did.” A smile graces my mouth. “He’s an amazing kid.”
“She’s a good mother,” he adds, and I nod.
“When will you tell Angelo and Natalia?”
“I’m going to spend Saturday in Greenwich. I’ll ask Natalia to come by.”
His Adam’s apple bobs in his throat. “How is she?” he asks, avoiding eye contact.
“She’s good.”
He swings his gaze up, meeting my eyes.
“You would know if you talked to her more regularly.”
He runs a hand over his five o’clock shadow. “We haven’t had that kind of relationship since we were kids.”
“I’m sure she would love to see you. You’ll get your chance next month at Lawson’s charity event. All five bosses will be there, and Natalia will be with Gino.” My meeting with Gifoli went well, and it appears The Outfit has finally pulled their heads out of their asses and agreed to discuss the possibility of Chicago coming under The Commission’s rule. Gifoli suggested the New York bosses attend the gala ball, and a formal meeting is taking place in the same hotel the following morning. It’s an encouraging sign.
Leo scowls like he does anytime I mention Natalia’s husband. “Great.” He throws the rest of the scotch down his throat. “Something to look forward to.”
* * *
The next few weeks are extremely busy, and I have little time to get lost in my head. Three days after Gino Accardi’s visit to Tampa, the Russians attacked the Florida famiglia in a coordinated hit on their key bars, clubs, and restaurants, leaving a string of dead bodies and burned buildings in their wake. The only positive is Florida is firmly committed to The Commission now. They need our resources to rebuild and to provide protection.
The attack concerns me on a number of levels. It was well thought out and orchestrated, and there was no warning. They could have decimated the organization and taken the city, but they retreated, meaning it was only a first shot. They are planning something big, and we need to find out what.
Caltimore Holdings acquired a fifth top IT firm last week, and I attended daily meetings with the management team as we coordinated the transition, often running into the early hours of the morning. Add to that, we are preparing to break ground on one of the most prestigious luxury apartment blocks New York will ever see. Located on West 57th Street, overlooking Central Park, it will be the tallest building in the city, once completed, with one-hundred-and-eighty million-dollar condos, a five-star hotel, and a top department store on site.
I’m running on adrenaline, double espressos, and three hours of sleep a night, max. The only highlight of my weeks is my visits with Rowan and Sierra. I look forward to them like I haven’t looked forward to anything in years. Hence why I’m already on a plane to Chicago, and it’s only four twenty a.m. on Saturday morning. I have been alternating flight times and airports in an effort to hide my tracks. The last thing I want is the Russians discovering I’m making regular weekend trips to Chicago and figuring out the reason why.
I told Sierra I’d drop by at lunchtime, but I couldn’t sleep and the need to see her and my son was greater, so I roused my pilot from his bed, and Leo, Ciro, and I headed to the airport to board my private jet. Ciro is dozing in the seat behind me with his earplugs in. My best friend and underboss is currently snoring, quite obnoxiously, in the chair across from me, ensuring I’ll get no shut-eye before we touch down in Chicago.
Two hours later, I’m leaning my head against the window of the SUV, watching the sunrise as Alessandro drives. Ciro is beside me in the back. Leo is still snoring. From the front passenger seat this time. At least one of us managed to catch some decent sleep.
“You must have more patience than me, boss.” Alessandro looks at me through the mirror as he lifts one shoulder in Leo’s direction. “I’d have slit his throat on the plane.”
Ciro harrumphs.
“The thought did cross my mind.” I smile. “How have things been?” I ask even though it’s not necessary. Alessandro sends me daily summary reports by email.
“Everything is fine. There have been no threats or persons of interest nosing around.”
“What about that prick Lawson? Did he suspect anything when you and Frank attended dinner last week?”
Alessandro shakes his head. “He grilled us at the start, but it was the usual bullshit. He bought our story and didn’t even look sideways at us after that.”
Sierra told her family she hired the guys through a private security firm. I own such a firm—our protection services are more upscale than the shakedowns of the past—but I want nothing linking to New York, so I got Phillip to establish a new fake security company, and we sent official employee cards to Alessandro and Frank. Phillip is the best IT brain I have on my payroll, and I pay him way above market rate to secure his loyalty and his secrecy.
“Good.”
“The man is a fucking asshole.”
“He’s a piece of work, all right. He hated my guts when I first dated Saskia. Told me bluntly I wasn’t good enough for his daughter.”
I eventually won him over. I’m not sure how, because I didn’t give a fuck about her old man and things were never serious with her. If I wasn’t in such a mess over Mom’s death and being forced to leave college when I lost my scholarship, I doubt I would have ever dated anyone as high maintenance as Sierra’s older sister.
They might share similar physical characteristics, but personality-wise, they are like night and day. Sierra is warm where Saskia is cold. Sierra is forgiving while Saskia bears grudges like no one I have ever known. Sierra always sees the positives and she delights in the world around her, while Saskia has a bitter outlook and never a kind word to say about anything or anyone.
While Sierra wastes no opportunity to bust my balls, things have been amicable these past three weeks, and we’re settling into a comfortable routine. We spend time with our son together, and then she retreats, while she cooks us a meal, giving me quality time with Rowan alone.
I’m immensely rich, and I have grown to enjoy the finer things in life, but a simple meal shared in a small homey kitchen with my son and the woman I want as my wife has come to mean so much to me—more than anything my money can buy. Sierra has put her feelings aside so I can develop a relationship with my son in a comfortable environment. I’m under no illusions. I know she has done that for Rowan, but I appreciate it, and it only adds to my mounting respect for her.
If things were different, I could see myself falling head over heels for the mother of my child.
“Pull over,” I say when I spot a woman unloading supplies from the back of a small van.
Alessandro parks behind the florist’s van without question.
Ciro curls his hand around the door handle to get out. “Don’t bother,” I say, opening my door. “I won’t be long, and there isn’t a soul on the streets.”
I’m smiling as I approach the woman in my jeans and sweater, hoping she doesn’t notice the bags under my eyes and that my wallet and my legendary charisma will work its charm.
I climb back in the car a few minutes later with a massive bunch of flowers in my arms. Ciro continues looking out the window, and Alessandro says nothing, easing the car back out on the road and heading toward Elm Street.
Leo wakes up just as we round the bend toward Sierra’s
house. My heart spikes to coronary-inducing levels when I spot the unfamiliar Lincoln Navigator parked directly outside Sierra’s house.
I know it’s not one of ours.
“Call Ian,” I snap, wondering why my soldier on night duty failed to inform us of a suspicious car parked outside my future wife’s house. “And if he’s asleep on the job, I’ll make it permanent.”
I pull my Glock out as Alessandro parks in front of the Navigator, readying myself to run in there when he turns sheepishly toward me, rubbing the back of his neck. “It’s her boyfriend’s car,” he quietly says.
“What is it doing parked outside her house?” My voice is calm, betraying no hint of the storm brewing inside me.
“I don’t know for sure, boss, but it’s been here since last night, so I’m assuming it means—”
“Why wasn’t I told about this?” I snap. There has been no mention of any home visits from the teacher in my email reports, and I assumed it meant Sierra had kicked him to the curb.
“The guy was vetted and passed,” Leo reminds me.
“I still need to know when he’s in the house with my son!” I bark, wringing my hands and wishing it was Dion Stewart’s neck. I warned Sierra I wouldn’t tolerate any man trying to take my place, and I am ready to charge in there and slaughter him in her bed, consequences be damned.
“Oh shit.”
Leo’s tone pulls me from my head, and I watch with rising anger as the front door of Sierra’s house opens and she appears with the douche.
His brown hair is sticking up in every direction, like he was just dragged through a bush. Either that or he hasn’t owned a comb in years. His jeans are hanging loosely off his hips, like he dressed in a hurry. Blood pounds in my skull when he leans in and kisses her. Grabbing her face in his hands, he angles his head and deepens the kiss, and that’s the moment I lose control of the tenuous hold on my emotions.
I’ve seen enough.
That asshole is dead.
24
BEN
I am out of the car before I’ve processed the movement, racing toward the kissing couple, with my gun in hand. My shoes crunch on the gravel in Sierra’s driveway, and her eyes pop open, widening in horror as she spots me advancing.
She has no time to warn Dion before I grab a fistful of his shirt and yank him back, away from her. Tossing him to the ground, I hover over him, pressing the muzzle of my gun to his brow. The front door closes with a soft snick as Sierra screams. The grinding of gravel underfoot signals my men have arrived, but I don’t look up, keeping my gaze trained on the douche. Sierra is pleading with Alessandro, but she fails to understand they act on my instructions, not hers. Neither of them will intervene unless I give them permission.
I stare into Dion Stewart’s petrified brown eyes, wondering what the hell Sierra sees in this sniveling idiot. “Do you know who I am?” I ask, pressing the gun harder into his brow.
“No. And I don’t know who you think I am or what’s going on, but it’s clearly a case of mistaken identity.”
“Did you fuck her?” I hiss.
“What?” His Adam’s apple jumps in his throat as his brows knit together in confusion.
“Did. You. Put. Your. Cock. In. Sierra.” I say it slow in case he’s hard of hearing or understanding.
“Don’t answer him, Dion,” Sierra yells, amid sounds of thrashing behind me. “Let him go, Ben. He has nothing to do with this, and you have no right to ask him that. I can fuck whoever I want,” she adds.
Curling my finger around the trigger, I press the gun harder into his forehead. I continue staring into the eyes of the coward underneath me while I respond. “I don’t think so, Firefly.” I bark out a harsh laugh. “You. Are. Mine. Go on. I dare you to deny it.” I would love an excuse to blow this fucker’s brains to smithereens.
“Ben, please.” Her voice is lower, calmer, but I can still detect the hysterical undertone. “Let Dion go home, and we’ll talk about this. Think of Rowan. He’ll be awake shortly, and he can’t see this.”
That is the only thing she could say that would bring me out of the murderous rage clouding my judgment. I tuck the gun back in the waistband of my jeans and fist a hand in the guy’s shirt, pulling him to his feet.
He shoves me away as Sierra races toward him. She stops a couple of feet from him because she knows if he lays another finger on her all bets are off. He stands in front of her, shielding her from me, and it’s comical he thinks he can protect her when he almost pissed his pants a minute ago. “Call the cops, Sierra,” he says, glaring at me.
“Someone found their balls,” Leo says, sauntering to my side.
“A little too late,” I reply, folding my arms and pinning Dion with a deadly look.
“If you leave, we won’t tell anyone about this,” he blusters. “We don’t want any trouble. This is a quiet neighborhood.”
“Who does this schmuck think he is?” Leo says to me.
My eyes find Sierra’s. “Set him straight or I will.”
“Dion. It’s okay,” she says, walking around him so they are face to face. “I know him. He’s an asshole, but he won’t hurt me or Rowan.”
“What the hell is going on here, Sierra?” Confusion is drawn all over his face, and I’m glad Sierra managed to follow at least one of my instructions. The guy clearly doesn’t know who I am.
“Ben is an old family friend,” Sierra lies. “His bark is worse than his bite.” Her eyes flit to mine, and I can tell even she’s not buying the bullshit she’s peddling.
“I’m not leaving you here with him,” the teacher says, and I’m officially done.
Yanking him by the shirt again, I bring his face right up to mine. “I’m done playing nice. Here’s the score. Sierra is my future wife, so whatever the fuck you think you have with her is over. You’re finished. Walk away now or you won’t walk away at all.”
“What. The. Actual. Fuck?” Sierra shrieks, pulling on my arm. “You are insane. Like clinically insane. I am not marrying you.”
“You are and you will. It’s not up for discussion.”
“The hell it isn’t. You can’t make me.”
I tilt my head to the side. “Watch me.”
“I’m calling the cops,” the douche says, right before he headbutts me.
Pain rattles in my skull, but I don’t let go of him. He cusses, blinking, realizing how stupid that move was. “You really shouldn’t have done that.” I flash him a lethal smile before tossing him to Leo. “Get rid of the trash, and remind him to keep his mouth shut while you’re at it.”
“My pleasure, boss.”
Dion takes a swing at Leo, and Leo pops him square on the nose, leveling him with a second powerful punch that knocks him out cold.
Sierra screams, instantly slapping her hands over her mouth before she wakes Rowan.
Ciro helps Leo carry the unconscious teacher to his car while I wait for Sierra to let rip. Her small fists pound into my chest. “You’re a prick. I hate you. I fucking hate you.” She continues beating her fists on my chest even as I pick her up and carry her inside the house. “You can’t just kill him! Someone will notice he’s missing, and I’m probably the first place they will come looking. How the hell is that protecting us?”
“No one said anything about killing him,” I reply, clamping my hand down on her butt as I walk to her bedroom.
I close the door and throw her down on the crumpled bed, straddling her hips and pinning her in place. She beats at my chest again, bucking her hips and trying to throw me off, but I’m much stronger and I’ve got at least sixty pounds on her. When I’ve had enough of her pitiful attempts to hurt me, I grab her wrists, pulling her arms up over her head as I lean down into her face. “That’s enough,” I grunt, feeling my dick thicken as my body acknowledges the way we are strategically aligned. “If you want to blame someone, blame yourself. I warned you not to bring any man into this house. I told you what would happen if anyone tried to take my place.”
“He w
asn’t taking your place, you psycho!” She wriggles underneath me, and all the blood in my body rushes to my cock. “Rowan doesn’t know we’re dating. Dion comes over after Rowan is asleep, and he always leaves before he wakes up.”
“I don’t care.” I thrust my groin against hers. “That is the last time that man is in this house. The last time his cock goes anywhere near your pussy.” I rock my hips again and graze my teeth along the column of her neck. “If you need to be fucked, I will fuck you.”
“Get off me!” She wriggles again, and the instant her pussy makes contact with my straining erection, we both groan. She is only wearing light cotton pajama pants and I can feel her heat through the thin material. Dusting a slew of openmouthed kisses along her neck, I nip at her earlobe as we grind against one another. “Stop!” she hisses, biting my neck hard. “I don’t want this.”
“Liar,” I whisper in her ear as my hand closes over one breast through her flimsy pajama top. Her nipple is standing at attention, and she arches her back when I flick the taut peak. “Your body betrays you.”
“That’s just a physiological reaction to you sitting on my pussy and kissing my neck. It’s nothing more than a natural physical response. I still loathe you with every part of my being,” she pants, fighting her obvious attraction to me.
Having Sierra hate me is good. It means there is little risk of love growing between us. I need her to hate me, and everything I have said and done has been designed to achieve that goal. So why do her words feel like someone is sliding a knife slowly and methodically straight through my heart?
Shaking off my unhelpful thoughts, I smirk right in her face because I know how much my smirks irritate her. “Hate-fucking happens to be one of my favorites, so spew your vitriol, Firefly. All it does is turn me the fuck on.”
I slam my lips down hard on hers, devouring her mouth with wild abandon, channeling all the pent-up rage churning inside me. She tries to resist, for all of two seconds, before she succumbs to our mutual lust, kissing me back with the same anger and toxicity flowing through my veins. I bite and suck on her lips, thrusting my tongue into her mouth as we battle for supremacy, like vipers competing for the lethal kill.
Condemned to Love:  Page 19
