by Nikki Chase
“Could be better. He’s in a comma.”
“Sorry,” I whisper.
“It’s not a big deal. At least, it shouldn’t be. It’s part of the job.” His gaze drifts back to Jack. The sight seems to soothe him, take away some of his weariness, make the world seem like a better place.
He doesn’t want to put his friends and family in danger either, I realize. He didn’t choose this life either.
Matteo lets out a big sigh. “I should go. It’s late.”
We stand on either side of the open door, eyes locked.
“Thanks for letting me stay and watch Jack sleep for a while. I needed that,” he says.
“No problem.”
He goes quiet for a second, but he doesn’t step away. “I’d love to stay if that’s okay with you.”
I imagine his warmth wrapping around me under the covers, his arms like a protective shield, his scent filling my lungs and spreading through my body. He’d take away my ability to think clearly. “Maybe another night.”
Matteo’s smile remains, but I can see the disappointment in his eyes. “Okay. Good night, Grace.”
“Good night.” I give him a smile that I hope will help soften the blow.
He turns away but stops before I close the door. “I have a surprise for you, by the way,” he says.
“Yeah?”
“Yeah. I’ll show you something tomorrow.”
Matteo
“Wow. When did you get this installed?” Grace’s full lips part as her eyes sweep over the playground in my backyard.
A grin spreads across my face. That’s exactly the reaction I was hoping for. I did well, if I may say so myself.
Before I left to search for Grace in Delaware, this part of the backyard was a pristine, uninterrupted stretch of green grass. Now, a large playset with stairs and vertical climbers and monkey bars sits on top of rubber tiles that bounce underfoot, cushioning Jack when—not if—he falls.
“As soon as I learned about Jack.”
“Like, when you found out he was your son?” Grace looks down at her fingers, counting, probably trying to figure out how long it took to install this thing.
Meanwhile, Jack doesn’t question anything. He just charges at full speed toward the wrong end of the slide, falling face-first as he attempts to hug the thing. “Ouchie,” he whimpers softly.
I sprint toward Jack as he drops his butt onto the rubber tile.
“You okay, honey?” Grace asks in a calm voice.
Jack swivels his little head until he finds Grace, still standing in the same spot as before. “Yeah.” He grins.
A shot of pride surges through me. He doesn’t even cry.
I offer the brave little guy a hand. “Need help getting up?”
Jack grabs my hand and pulls himself up, thanks me, then bounces away on his little feet. Like nothing ever happened. So polite too, with the courteous “thank you.”
Grace has done a great job raising Jack on her own. I stare at her with amazement when she joins me by the slide.
“I freaked out too when he first took a fall,” Grace says, eyes fixed on Jack. “But then I read somewhere that it’s better for Jack if I play it cool.”
“That’s awesome.” I have so much to learn. So much to catch up on.
We stand there in silence, both of us avoiding what needs to be said, afraid of disturbing this delicate balance. But grinning and waving back at Jack can only occupy us for so long.
“I’m glad you’ve chosen to stay here,” I break the silence.
Sooner or later we’d have to have this conversation. I spent all night thinking about our situation, and now my whole body is vibrating with restlessness.
Grace turns to me, a playful smile on her lips. She looks beautiful with the sun shining its warm glow on her. But I already knew that. What surprises me is the lack of wariness on her lovely face. For the first time ever, she seems carefree. “I mean all my clothes are here. And all my other stuff too. So I kind of have to be here.”
I laugh. “If I’d known that was all it would take, I would’ve done that from the beginning.”
“When did you get those things flown in?” she asks, her hair floating in the wind.
I give Jack another wave as he pokes his head through a hole. “You seem to be very concerned about the timing of me doing things. Does it matter?”
“No. I’m more concerned about possible breaking and entering, as well as robbery,” Grace answers quickly, an unguarded smile on her lips. Her dress flaps in the wind, revealing glimpses of her smooth, porcelain thighs.
This is not the time to be ogling her. Distracted, I tear my gaze from her alluring legs, laughing. “I’ve faced worse charges.”
Her smile vanishes. “I don’t doubt that.”
Damn it. Me and my big mouth. Now she’s probably thinking about Gio.
I can still see it in my mind. My gun pointing at his chest. His gun pressing against my temple. If he squeezed the trigger, Franco and Hector would kill him right then and there. He knew he could walk away and go home to his warm bed, but he’d been drinking, and he’d always been reckless.
A sick feeling clenches my gut. Nausea rises through my chest. I had a bad feeling about this standoff. Then I felt it. A slight change in the pressure of metal on my temple. He was about to shoot.
So I did it first. I blinked, and he was on the ground, blood spreading across his shirt, his whole body twitching on gray asphalt.
“Fuck,” I curse.
I expect Grace to be glaring at me. But there’s no hostility in her gaze. Not even anger. And she still hasn’t put up any walls between us. “I’ve thought a lot about what you did. I’ve decided not to blame you for it.”
I stare at her.
“My mom told me all about it. About how Gio had been frustrated over something else that had nothing to do with you,” she says calmly.
I thought that might’ve been the case. We just met at the wrong place and at the wrong time. Hearing it straight from Grace’s mouth lifts a weight from my shoulders that I didn’t even realize I was carrying.
“And I’m confident now that you didn’t have anything to do with the kidnapping,” she says. “The way you glowered at your dad . . . I don’t think you’re that good of an actor.”
“I wanted to wait until you were ready. It was important to me that you make the conscious choice to be with me. It still is.”
Grace smiles, a merry twinkle in her eyes. Maybe it’s just my imagination, but they appear clearer than they ever have been. “If you’d told me you were going to take care of moving my stuff, I might’ve agreed to coming home sooner.”
I grin. “I’ll keep that in mind next time I want you to do something.”
Our eyes lock, and time seems to stop for a moment, until Jack’s piercing scream cracks the air, followed by fits of laughter. We look at each other and laugh too, relieved he’s okay, knowing we’re both sharing the responsibility over him now.
“I’ve been doing my own thinking, Grace,” I say. “I’m so sorry I hid some of the ugly stuff from you. Somewhere in the back of my mind, I knew it was going to come back to bite me in the ass. But I didn’t want to scare you off. That was selfish of me. I’m sorry.”
“Apology accepted.” Grace nods. “To be honest, I think I was angry at myself too. As much as I tried to convince myself otherwise, I couldn’t stop thinking Gio would still be alive if it weren’t for me running away from my old life.”
“You don’t know that. He could’ve picked a fight with someone else and ended up the same.”
“I guess you’re right. It just seems so silly to me now that I ran away from this.” Grace sweeps her gaze around us then stares into my eyes. “From you.”
Is she saying what I think she’s saying? I reach across the gorge between us, bridging the space with my hand. “Have you decided to stay then? That would mean the world to me. Because I don’t know when it happened, but you and Jack have become the most important
things in my life.”
My heart jumps to my throat as I wait. It feels like an eternity, but it probably only takes Grace two seconds to crack a smile and nod. “Yes, Matteo. I’d love for us to become a family.”
I almost can’t believe my ears.
Family. That word used to mean something else—duty, obligation.
But now that Grace and Jack have entered my life, it’s taking on a new meaning. Joy. Happiness. Everything that’s good in the world.
I raise her hand up to my lips and kiss her knuckles. “You won’t regret it, kitten. I’ll make you happy. You and Jack and our other kids.”
I wince as I realize what I’ve just called her. She specifically told me not to call her “kitten.” But she doesn’t seem to mind now. “Our other kids, huh?” she asks.
I shrug. I’m not going to take that back. Ever since I saw Jack, even before I learned he was my son, I wanted Grace to have another baby.
This time, I’ll be there for her from the very beginning. I’ll buy her whatever weird shit she craves during pregnancy, hold her hand in the delivery room, and go through the sleepless nights of early parenthood with her.
“Matteo, there’s something else we need to discuss first, before we start making plans for the future.”
My heart stops. “What is it, kitten?”
“I want you to promise me something.”
“Anything.”
She smiles wryly. “Don’t speak too soon.”
“Tell me what you want, and I’ll make it happen.”
Fear flickers in her eyes. “I want you to promise me that Jack—and any other kids we may have in the future—won’t be involved in the family business.”
“Done.”
Grace gives an uneasy laugh. “Think before you speak.”
I pause for two seconds. “Done.”
Her laughter fades, and she looks deep into my eyes as though she’s searching for answers. “I’m being serious.”
“Me too.” I pause. “My dad won’t be too happy about it. And I’m betting your side of the family won’t be thrilled either. But screw them.”
“You mean that?” she asks, hope creeping into her voice.
“I told you, I’d do anything for you. And our kids.” I nod, grinning. I put my hand on her waist and pull her close. “I love you, kitten.”
Her face lights up, and she beams at me. “I love you too.”
Epilogue
Grace—Three Months Later
I sit in a cage, my hands wrapped around the metal bars while my legs dangle over the edge.
It’s not a figurative cage. I’m literally being suspended from the ceiling, wearing only a black lace bra and matching panties. A blindfold has robbed me of my sight, so all I can do is prick my ears up and listen.
My heart thuds in my chest, regular but rapid.
It’s not often that Matteo and I get to take a night off from being parents, so I’m glad he’s turning this into such an event.
Jack is spending the night with my parents. As soon as we dropped him off at the house I grew up in, Matteo had this Cheshire-cat grin on his face.
“What?” I asked, suspicious.
Matteo is great at keeping his work outside the home, and I’ve been blissfully unaware of what he does all day (and night). When we do have time to spare, we spend it with Jack. So I had no idea what to expect.
“We’re not going home,” he said. He tossed a black box onto my lap. I pulled the black, glossy ribbon loose and opened the box to find the lacy underthings I’m wearing now.
From what I could see before Matteo put a blindfold over my eyes, this room looked almost exactly the same as that first night we’d met. The same bed. The same oversized mirror. The same dark, foreboding interior.
Except there was a cage hanging from the ceiling. Much like a birdcage, it had a flat, solid bottom and a dome made of gilded metal bars.
Matteo hoisted me up and left me here, telling me to wait. He didn’t say how long. His only instruction was to not play with myself.
It’s ironic, I guess. Me sitting in a gilded cage.
Growing up, I felt like I was living like a caged animal, trapped by my father’s restrictive rules. I thought I’d escaped when I shed my identity in the woods, but I just traded one jail for another. I couldn’t leave the country, and I was living in fear.
Now that I’m with Matteo, I finally know what freedom feels like. As the wife of a mobster, of course, I can’t live like most people do. But I’m doing the things I want to do anyway. I chose this life. I want to live with Matteo, raising Jack together.
I’m not living in a cage. I’m home. Right where I want to be. Figuratively.
That said, even though this literal cage wasn’t my idea, I’m loving it.
I can’t stop thinking about what Matteo will do once he comes back here. Is he actually here with me, watching me as his intense eyes burn with lust?
He could be sitting on the couch in the corner of the room like he was on that first night. He could be circling the cage right now, his footsteps muted by the thick pile of the carpet.
He could touch me at any time. Force his hand between my legs. My thighs are spread by the bars of the cage. Obscene. Accessible. Vulnerable.
Wetness trickles out of me, pooling in my panties. I scoot forward, pressing my heat against a metal bar. The cage sways in the air as I rock my hips.
“Bad, bad kitty.” A deep voice pierces the air, shocking me into stillness. The cage rocks from the momentum, betraying me, casting a bright spotlight on my secret transgression. “What did I tell you?”
My heart jumps to my throat. “You said not to play with myself, Sir.”
“That’s right.” He draws near although I can’t hear his footsteps. When he speaks again, it sounds like he’s circling my cage, his voice coming from all around me. “And what did you do?”
“I . . . I didn’t touch myself.” Deep down, I know he won’t buy that excuse. But a part of me wants to be punished, to have Matteo unleash the wild beast inside him.
“Hmm . . . You think you found a loophole, huh?”
I shriek as the cage tilts violently to one side. Matteo must’ve grabbed the bars and leaned his weight into the cage. “I—I’m sorry, Sir.”
“That’s more like it,” he says darkly. “But I’ll have to punish you.”
A small whimper escapes my lips. My heart thumps faster. My adrenaline spikes. The flame in my center burns brighter.
The cage swings from side to side like a pendulum, my bare ass grinding uncomfortably against the hard metal floor, my hands gripping the bars so hard my knuckles must be turning white.
Just as I get my balance under control, the cage abruptly stops. A light touch on my leg makes me jump. Matteo chuckles. Obviously, he finds my reaction amusing.
“A kitten in a cage,” he says as his fingers drag a meandering trail up my thigh. “All mine to play with.”
I thrust my hips forward, trying to get more contact with his hand. But instead, he pulls away, breaking contact, and all I can do is whine in frustration. I shift forward until my heat presses against one of the iron bars, but Matteo slaps the top of my thigh, and I freeze.
“You don’t seem to be able to listen, kitten.” Matteo’s dark tone is a warning. His hand grips my thigh in a way that tells me he wants me but he’s holding himself back. “You’re not allowed to play with yourself. That means you can’t touch yourself with your hands and you can’t bring yourself to orgasm any other way either.” I open my mouth, but Matteo speaks over me. “And I know you didn’t come. Still not allowed.”
A big, warm hand grabs my chin and turns my head.
“I want to see your pretty face,” Matteo says, his hand dragging up my thigh. “You know why you can’t play with yourself, kitten?”
“Because you say so, Sir.” I stab my teeth into my bottom lip, trying to keep my body still. I know as soon as I make the slightest movement, Matteo will stop touching me, a
nd that’s the last thing I want.
“Good answer, kitten. But that’s not it. You’re not allowed to play with yourself because this pussy—” he grips my mound over my panties “—is mine. Not yours. Get it?”
The heat of Matteo’s palm seeps through my panties, and I feel myself growing wetter. He can probably feel it through the lace. “Yes, Sir.”
“Good.” His palm presses against my pussy, making me moan.
I want to grind myself against him. The pressure building inside is killing me. Every cell in my body is urging me to do it, to rub myself against him, to go against his command.
But I restrain myself. I bite my lip until it hurts, until I taste rust leaking from broken skin on my tongue.
I want to be a good girl for him. Even if it hurts. That’s the only way he’ll give me satisfaction. I have to give him what he wants for him to give me what I need.
The sharp clanging of metal chains tells me Matteo is letting me out. “A good girl deserves a reward,” he says as he pulls me into his arms and carries me. I lean my ear against his collarbone, listening to his soothing heartbeat. What is he going to do to me?
My heart races at the uncertainty of it all. Yet at the same time, I trust him. Completely. He can do whatever he wants; I know he has my pleasure at the front of his brilliant mind. Matteo will take care of me.
I shriek as he throws me onto the bed. I bounce a little until my back settles on the cool, luxurious satin.
“A reward for a good girl,” Matteo repeats. “But first, that punishment I mentioned.”
“What are you going to do to me, Sir?” Even though darkness blankets my vision, I turn my head from side to side, trying to determine where Matteo is, looking for clues.
“You’ll find out soon,” he says. I hear him opening and closing drawers. I listen with my heart in my throat as something rustles. I can’t see him, but I feel his dominant presence growing closer.
Then, without a warning, something hot drips onto my stomach, making me shriek.
“It’s okay.” Matteo’s voice is soothing. “You’re going to be okay.”
