“I hoped to run into you sooner. Hoped about a lot of things over the years when it came to you.” Lane drawls in that Southern Louisiana accent I missed. “The one thing I hoped more than anything is to hear someday you say you loved me again.”
Sweet Jesus, help me, please. He says it as if he genuinely means it. I want to believe it, want to one day hear him say it as much as I want to hold on to hope. Hope is the only thing I have to cling to, but not when it comes to Lane. The man is nothing but a liar, a cheat, and a thief.
I can remember as clear as the sky is blue, my mother’s words about hope as she gasped and sputtered on her deathbed. Her blood was coating my dress where she laid on top of me, her bullet hole riddled body a shield tucked around me under a table during a family spaghetti dinner shootout. Gunshots were blazing everywhere. I was crying so hard, yet I remember her telling me to never give up on hope.
She said, “Sienna, I’m one of the lucky women in our world of violence and corruption, I found a man that loves and treats me as his equal as much as a man in our world can. I hope you find true love, health, happiness, and someday a man who loves only you. Who lets you make your own choices while standing behind you in the same way you’d do him? Hold on to hope, hold it close to your heart, my sweet little girl. Promise me you’ll never forget what hope can do for you, no matter what.”
She died before I could answer. Of course, I was seven at the time, much too young to understand what she meant and scared out of my mind.
Hope has been my friend since.
After my mother died, my father rarely let me out of his, or our family’s trusted guard’s sight. I felt suffocated. I was homeschooled and guarded as if I were on death row. In a way, I was.
I wasn’t allowed to walk through the doors leading to the west wing of our mansion until I was old enough to understand who my father was outside of our home. I wasn’t allowed to watch the news. I wasn’t allowed to play with other children unless my father, Lorenzo Ricci, the Boss of the Italian-American mafia, deemed them safe and worthy. But I studied every single person from my bedroom window who came to our house. By the time my father sat me down and told me who he was, I knew who was his friend, his enemy, and who would make it back to their car either in a body bag or on their feet.
Some days, I had my aunt Lena, who devoted as much time to me as she could before she too died. I had my uncle Gabe. And my father was an amazing dad when he wasn’t tending to business. He made me laugh, he played dolls, and he cooked and watched movies with me. He was my hero in an anti-hero, ugly, ugly world.
And so was Lane. A man I don’t dare peek over my lashes to get a look at before I kick his ass out. If I do, the truth will spill right out of my mouth.
“I missed you. Missed you so damn much it hurt. I’ve lived with the pain I caused you every day. Regret dripping out of me every time I knew you came to town. I heard what happened. I wanted to come to you sooner, kept telling myself to give you a little more time. I’m sorry, Sienna. I can’t imagine what you are going through. Let me help you.” Everything he said makes my heart bleed, causing it to clench tightly. It forces a tear to fall. A lonely drop that rolls down my face and plops onto the space bar of my laptop.
My gut twists, my teeth grind together, trapping the words I’m so afraid to say.
“I find it hard to believe you missed me every time you whored yourself out. Every time you stepped into a room with a stranger and fucked her. What is it you honestly want, Lane? If you’re here to offer me protection, I have plenty of it.” I shift in my chair, trying so hard to keep it together.
“To help you get through this.” I can hear the underlying pain, the confusion of how my life brought me to this day, trying to claw its way out of his throat.
Oh, God.
“You don’t have the first clue about what happened to me or how to help!” I yell. No one knows the depth of hell I went through over the years to lead me here except Victoria. And now, my uncle and father. They are as loyal to me as to the criminal activities they are knee-deep in. So, no, even if I betrayed them by not telling how I lived with abuse, rape, and fear, I don’t believe they would deceive me by telling Lane the horrific things I’ve been through.
It’s my story to tell. It’s my shame to deal with when I decide to talk.
“I’m not here to be saved by you, Lane. That ship has sailed.” But, do I ever want him to, even if it’s only to ease the worry, the discomfort slowly eating away at me. I’m afraid he’ll hate himself and me. I’m scared I’ll see pity in his eyes when he’s the last person I ever want it from.
I want to lash out and choke him. I want to with every living, breathing cell in my body. I want to blame him for every wrongful thing that’s been done to me.
But I can’t. Not when it’s my fault.
With a man like Lane Mitchell, what I want is of no significance, and he’s not going to leave until he’s said everything he came to say. Even after, he’s going to do his best to pounce on me like a lion cornering his prey.
Well, I’ve got news for him, I’m already in a corner hiding while I’ll wait for another beast to maul me to death.
“No, Sienna, I’ve been waiting for you to climb on board so we could sail away together. You were my life once. No. Fuck that. You’ve always been my life.”
I doubt that.
“Still sweet with your words, I see.” The man was. He could say the kindest things, then turn around and say something sexual. Both would knock me off my feet.
“If God is real, then you, Sienna, are his masterpiece. Now come here and ride my face.”
The flashback causes a shiver to run down my spine.
“I deserve bitterness after what I did to you. After I let you marry a man you didn’t love. All these years I thought you’d fell in love with Joseph and you were happily married when you weren’t. I want an explanation as to why your husband would cut the brake lines on your car. He tried to kill you. You survived, but your son.” He pauses. I imagine he’s shaking his head and clenching his fists, unable to process or spit the words out of his mouth.
I’ll do it for him because I need him out of here before I fall apart.
“Was kidnapped by my husband.” I draw in a breath, inhaling the pain of the past one hundred and eighty-two days since I’ve seen my son. God, saying that to anyone has been a stab to my heart, but to Lane, it’s a thousand times harder.
My son Luca has been missing for six months. The first few days after the car accident that led to his disappearance, I was in and out of it, suffering from a concussion and a broken wrist. When the doctors eased me off the pain meds, and I saw the grief on my father’s face, I thought for sure my son didn’t survive the wreck that sent me flipping the car over when Luca and I descended the steep hill of our vacation home in Northern Michigan. We landed upside down in a ditch.
What my father told me shouldn’t have surprised me, but it did. Joseph and Luca were both missing. I should have known I wouldn’t get far after the incident that occurred earlier that evening that had my senses waking up to get my son as far away from Joseph as possible.
They weren’t kidnapped by one of my father’s enemies like one would think. No, my husband tried to off me, and he took my son away just like he promised since the day Luca was born.
We’ve heard nothing of their whereabouts. Joseph has no family for him to run and hide to. He was raised in foster care. He hasn’t called making demands for money either. Not that he’d need it, he took every bit we had, plus some. Every rumor claiming they were spotted, my uncle and his friends, have dug deep to uncover if it’s true. There’s not a trace of them anywhere. My son is alive, though. I know he is.
And he has to be going through utter hell.
I close my eyes, searching desperately for a place to hide within my mind. Someplace safe that won’t rummage through the painful memories of my child. The problem with that, Luca is my safe place.
I draw strength from Luca,
knowing I raised him to be a smart young man and knowing my family will search the ends of the earth to find him. But there’s no eluding the grief from me that I’m sure Lane can see even if I haven’t yet looked at him.
It surrounds me.
“I have a daughter, the thought of someone taking her from me, let alone by the hands of someone who brought her into this world, I can’t begin to understand. Fuck, let me help you the only way I can, Sienna. Talk to me.”
Tears burn the back of my eyes, anger simmering in my stomach as the pain consumes me. I won’t talk to him about my son or the fact he had a daughter with someone who wasn’t me.
I’d heard what happened to Lexi’s mother, how she walked away from her newborn days after giving birth. She died years later from a drug overdose. I also know what happened a year or so ago to Logan and his wife, Ellie. How a plan hatched to kidnap Lane’s daughter backfired. I hurt for all of them then, and I was grateful when my father told me the masterminded brother and sister behind it was dead, and Lane’s daughter was unharmed.
Letting out a long sigh, I save the bar order I was working on, shut my laptop, and strum up the courage to look at Lane. I need him gone. I need him to stay away from me. No matter what I say or don’t, I can’t risk anything happening to him or his daughter. My family might be powerful. They might have resources from here to the other side of the world searching. Still, they do not know Joseph the way I do. If he’s not found before he attacks, he’ll kill me and anyone standing in his way.
He’s as sneaky as Lane.
Lifting my head, my mouth goes dry as I take him in. His hair is still thick and black as a cloudless night sky, eyes as green as the moss of the earth. He is much taller and muscular than I recall standing against the frame of the door, his legs crossed, and one hand tucked in a front pocket of dark jeans, the other rubbing his thumb over his index and middle finger.
Christ Almighty, his arms and thighs are like tree trunks, and with each slow roll of his thumb, his muscles ripple, leaving me momentarily dumbfounded.
I stare at him, holding his gaze until I can almost see into his soul. I want to melt right into him and burn him at the same damn time.
In a few long strides, he’s in front of my desk, those big hands of his squeezing the edge. Knuckles are turning white. Jaw clenching so tight, I’m surprised it doesn’t break.
The dirty, yet pleasurable things those hands used to do to me scroll through my mind, slowly. They disappear as quickly, knowing Lane learned how to play my body from him being a whore. Knowing those hands more than likely did the same thing to thousands of women.
“You are damn lucky I didn’t shoot you in the hallway when I heard you. Get out of my office, and do us both a favor, stay away from me. I’m here to make a fresh start for Luca and me when I get him back. Everything else in my past will stay where it belongs. Dead to me. That includes you.”
Something close to hurt bursts in his eyes like a bolt of lightning cutting through the darkest sky. It’s there for just a brief second before it’s gone within a blink of my eyes.
Lane is a schemer. I don’t buy his gentleman act for a second.
“There she is, that feisty woman who was everything a man like me wanted. The woman whose body I owned. The woman whose face I saw every time I touched another. You want to forget your past, that’s fine with me. I want that for you, Sienna. You will tell me what I want to know before I leave this office.”
Nervous dread creeps over me like a blanket of snow, numbing my brain. In this frozen state, my mind offers me only one thought.
I have to tell him.
“I…” Mortification and dread sets in, my mouth hanging open to form some response, but nothing more will come out.
“You what? Need more time? Well, tough shit. You deserve a fresh start. With me, damn it, and when Luca returns, he’ll join in. I own this restaurant, sweetheart. I used my keys to get in. I’m your boss, and if you think for one damn second, I won’t pluck your sexy ass out of that chair and bring you to my home where I’ll protect you under lock and key, you are wrong. Regrettably, on my part, wrong.”
Chapter Two
Lane
I was the man Sienna thinks me to be. A whore, a user, a worthless piece of shit. I’m not anymore. What I definitely am not, nor will ever be again, is her past. The minute she stepped foot on Texan soil, she belonged to me.
Now, that’s a lie if I’ve ever told myself one.
Years ago, Sienna was mine. She was everything to me. Despite the fact she’s here for a reason I can’t begin to fathom, and regardless of how many times I tell myself she’s mine, and how many times over the years I’d wished she was, she’s not mine.
Not yet, anyway.
Not in the way that counts. Not in the way I’ve always wanted her to be. Not in the way she should have been. Not until I’ve righted my wrong, lifted my regrets, and not until she tells me why her husband would do what he did. Then there is no stopping me from taking back what belongs to me.
In return, I am giving her all of me, as I promised years ago.
Christ, her. The woman who made me want to be a better man than I thought I could be. The woman who taught me the meaning of deep, soul-penetrating, I’d die, kill, and never give you up kind of love.
I was, and now will be a possessive asshole when it comes to Sienna. She is the only woman who has ever gotten me to drop to my knees and worship at her feet. I’d gladly do it every day if she gave me a chance.
Those truths and regrets don’t stop me from wanting to kiss her, hold her, walk through hell with her, fuck her. It doesn’t stop me imagining it’s her hands on me every time I stroke my cock. I’ve done that enough. The next time I do, it will be with her baby blues on me while she fingers herself until we’re both close to the edge. Then I’m going to fuck her until I erase the years without her I let piss away.
I was captivated by Sienna Ricci before her uncle Gabe took me and my brothers in raising us as his own after our shit for a mother killed herself. I will always be bound to this woman who doesn’t have a clue that she owns one half of my soul. No, she thinks I used her.
That is far from the truth.
I might not know the woman before me as I did, but I loved her. I always have. I always will.
Even after she’d caught me in the act of regret, I loved her. After she married Joseph, I loved her. Losing her had me falling as deep as I could get into a lifestyle I enjoyed yet felt shame until my daughter, Lexi’s mother, became pregnant.
And now, after avoiding Sienna for years when she’d come to visit her father, I’m at the breaking point of breaching a promise I made to my daughter the day her worthless mother walked away.
To never take a woman to bed until Lexi was old enough to live on her own. I made that promise to keep my ass out of the club. To become the best parent, I could be to a little girl who deserved my undivided attention. I want my daughter proud of me as much as I am of her. There wasn’t a chance in hell I was having her ashamed over what I did for a living in a place where craving sex lived like a virus in my veins.
The problem with a craving? When what you want is out of reach, you settle for sloppy seconds, and they do nothing to satiate what you know to be the best you’ve had.
Fucking someone you don’t know is merely a release. Fucking someone you love is a pleasurable one right down to the bone. It’s a high like no other.
I miss that kind of sex with Sienna. I miss it about as much as I missed this woman who, despite me hurting her, wants me as much as I do her. No matter how much she denies it and she will. She’ll challenge me until she gives because Sienna remembers just how much our bodies pleased one another in both vanilla and the filthiest of flavors as our hearts entwined.
We were volatile together. An explosion from a simple touch. A torch to a flame. White-hot smoke and being with or inside of anyone else has ever come close to what we’ve shared.
And I’m enough of a son of a bitch t
o remind her how good we are together.
I miss teaching and watching her suck my cock while I ate her pussy. I miss taking her from behind while fisting that flaming red hair. I miss the way she arches her back while squeezing every drop of cum out of me. I miss talking to her, watching her do the simplest task when she doesn’t know I am. I miss hearing the sound of her voice, cheering her up when she was down with a back rub, a kiss, or whatever the hell she needed at the time. I miss everything about Sienna that a man who years later still loves her could. Mostly, I miss the spark I can’t seem to find in her eyes.
I suppose if she looked deep into mine, she wouldn’t find even a flicker. I’ve kept it hidden well—the same as I’ve hidden our past from everyone. Including my brothers and we don’t keep secrets.
“You’re lying,” she challenges in that feisty, sassy sound that she used to taunt me with. Fire shoots out of her eyes as she pushes herself to stand, leans close enough to me that all I’d have to do is move an inch, and my mouth would be one with hers.
Fuck. Me. That mouth.
Instead, I do what any man in their right mind would do when beauty is in front of him. I look down her body. My cock strains all the more when I get a close-up. Jesus, she is sexy as hell.
Deep scorching, thick waves in oranges and fiery red, hair hangs midway down her back. It looks as if it would burn to the touch. Not even close. I know exactly how it feels sliding through my fingers.
Silk and smooth.
Her breasts are ones of a woman now—pert. More than enough for my greedy hands—the nipples, hard, and pushing through her bra and against her blouse. Shit, my fingers twitch to pinch the tight buds before pulling them into my mouth.
“Lying about what, that I’m your boss, or that I want you back? I’ve changed in some ways, Sienna. Tying you up to get what I want under any circumstance isn’t one of them.” Provoking and craving slide off my tongue, with her, I’ll never hide it. “Nothing more would please me right now than to tie you up, spank your ass and explore your body.”
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