Anthony

by Sydney Landon

  I give a laugh devoid of humor. “That’s where you’re wrong. They were born into the Moretti family, and that makes them mine to protect.” A lump forms in my throat as I think of losing Marco. He’s always seemed indestructible. I’m more shaken than I care to admit by tonight’s events. It’s a jarring reminder that regardless of how much we like to believe differently, we’re all vulnerable to some degree. I cup her beautiful face in my hand and tilt it until our eyes are locked. “You’re mine as well. And you may not like it, but I’ll also do whatever is necessary to ensure that no harm comes to you.” She surprises me by shrugging off my hold only to move closer and wrap her arms around my waist, laying her head on my chest. My arms encircle her automatically, and we stand in silence, both needing this moment of peace together. I know with every fiber of my being that a storm is brewing on the horizon. Someone is getting braver, and I fear their goal is to put the son to death just as they did the father. But they’ve made a serious miscalculation because I will destroy anyone who attempts to take my family from me. And that is what the people in this room are. Whereas before I’ve been cautious as I’ve looked for clues in my father’s death, all bets are off now. If Dr. Atwell confirms Cass’s suspicions, then war has been declared, and if I go down, I’ll damn well take every traitor in the family with me. Before this is over, the guilty will beg for mercy and the innocent will finally have their answers. Because only then will I truly be free to have the fallen angel in my arms.

  5

  Jacey

  It was after nine in the morning when we left the Moretti compound. I half expected Tony to demand that everyone remain there for a few days, but in the end, it would be too suspicious if all the Moretti men broke from their normal routine. Tony did insist we go by my place and pack a bag so I could stay with him for a few days. He assured me that we’d be safe at his apartment above the club, and I believe him. I know from my previous time there that he has several security guys on payroll, not to mention a state-of-the-art security system installed. I put my hand over my mouth, trying to silence the big yawn that I’m unable to stop. Tony puts his hand on the small of my back and leads me to the stairway to his top-floor apartment. “Let’s get a couple of hours’ sleep.” He enters a code on the panel to release the lock, then guides me through the door.

  The open floor plan makes it easy to take in the surroundings with a glance. Probably what Tony had in mind when he designed it. As always, his apartment is spotless. He has a cleaning lady come in a few days a week, but Tony is a neat person. Heck, I didn’t even see toothpaste in the bottom of the sink. His apartment has two bedrooms, but he uses one as an office. What are his plans for our sleeping arrangements now? Even though we shared his bed when I stayed with him before, this feels different. With Tony, though, I’ve learned never to assume. And I’m too damn tired to dance around the issue. “Will you be sleeping on the sofa, or will I?” I figure the blow to my pride will be less if I act as if I don’t want to sleep with him.

  He lifts a brow at me as if to say really? “If you’d like anything from the kitchen, help yourself. I’m going to take a quick shower, then crash.” He’s a few feet away when he turns back around to face me. “I’ll see you in the bedroom.”

  I childishly stick my tongue out when he’s out of sight, and somehow the silly gesture makes me feel better. I decide to get a bottle of water before I join him. The apartment is dimly lit by lights on an automatic timer, so I easily navigate my way to the refrigerator. It’s not that I’m that thirsty; I simply need time to process the events of the past twenty-four hours. Not to mention that being in this apartment where I spent a few weeks immediately after killing my father is messing with my head. Tony didn’t put it into words, but his eyes probed my face in a way that let me know he’s aware of it as well.

  I pull a chilled bottle of Evian from the refrigerator and lean against the counter behind me before taking a deep sip. Some water escapes and trickles down my chin, so I raise my arm and wipe it away with my sleeve. Dad would be horrified if he could see me now. Disheveled and unfit to be a Wrenn. A hopeless disappointment just like your sister. Maybe worse. You have potential yet lack the drive to see it through. Lazy, so fucking lazy. A useless waste of space. I set the water down hard, and it splashes over the granite countertop, but I barely notice. Instead, I put my hands over my ears as if that will block his voice out. Thank God your mother didn’t live to see how you turned out. I ask you to do one simple thing, and you argue. If you don’t care about your sister, then I’ll—

  “I shouldn’t have brought you here.” Tony sighs as he gently pulls my hands away and watches a lone tear slide down my cheek. “I’ll get our things, and we’ll go somewhere else. It’s too much for you.”

  I shake my head in denial before burying my face against his still-damp chest. His familiar scent surrounds me and offers the comfort I didn’t know I needed. “It’s not that,” I whisper. “Sometimes, I can’t stop it. The memories take over at the strangest times. Usually when I’m too tired to fight. If they’re really determined, then I’m no match for them.” I sniff before adding, “You probably think I’m crazy. Talking about memories as if they’re a living, breathing entity.”

  He pulls me closer and kisses my temple. As always, his touch is tender—almost reverent. “Trust me, baby, I understand all too well. We all have battles being fought within us. There are days that we’re victorious and others that we simply must wave the white flag and surrender until we’re strong enough to go again. It doesn’t make you weak to admit that you’re struggling. Only those who are truly strong are able to recognize their vulnerabilities.”

  The rumble of his voice and the steady beat of his heart lull me into a peaceful contentment. I shift within his arms until I’m staring up at him. For a moment, his face is unguarded, and I see anguish that matches my own. I recall his earlier conversation and ask, “It haunts you, doesn’t it? The death of your father. I know there must be so much anger there toward my father.” How could there not be? He had Draco murdered. “Thanks to me, you weren’t even able to avenge him.” I’d give that back to you if I could. “I acted out of anger and fear that night. I had no idea what I was taking from you until well after the fact.”

  “We’ve gone over this several times, Jacey. What makes me more entitled to revenge than you were? He took a parent from each of us. Had you asked me that night before you pulled the trigger, I’d have done it myself for no other reason than to save you from having to live with it.”

  I ponder his statement for a moment. I’m caught in the intimate moment, and Tony is the only person in my life who probably understands to some degree. “What would you think if I told you that it doesn’t bother me that much?” My admission probably makes me sound like a monster. He remains quiet, so I continue. “I mean that in the scope of things I’ve endured in my life, that isn’t the worst. When I lie awake at night, I don’t recall the eerie feeling of calm that came over me right before I knew what I had to do. It’s not even the second bullet I put in him to ensure he didn’t survive.”

  He rubs a hand soothingly up and down my spine. Several long moments pass, and I think he’s not going to reply, but then he does. “One thing I can promise you, baby. I’ll never judge you. If you’re concerned about that, then get it out of your head. What you’ve revealed makes me feel sorrow because I know there are things eating you alive inside and that they’re horrific.” I tense, afraid he’s going to demand answers. “When you’re ready, you’ll tell me. It’ll get to the point that you need to unburden so you can move on. And when that happens, I’ll be there for you. But until that time, let’s just simply be us. No pressure, no judgments, no drama. We’re both surrounded by enough of that. I, for one, could use a safe place to land.”

  That’s exactly what I want.

  How does he know? Or are we just so alike?

  I move my head until I’m staring at his darkly handsome face and smile. “Is that code for sex?”


  He appears startled for a moment by my teasing, then chuckles. “Trust me, Duchess, I don’t have to play those kinds of games. I’m far more direct in my approach. When I decide to have you, there’ll be no need for clarification. You’ll know.”

  My body, hyperaware as it always is when he’s near, literally swoons in delight. But I want to knock his ego down a few pegs. “So, you just assume that you make the rules between us? If the great Tony Moretti wants to have me, then I’m to be available at a moment’s notice?” I sniff as if deeply offended. Thank God I don’t make my living as an actress.

  If I hoped to make him feel contrite, his laughter suggests I’ve failed miserably. But there is an upside because I’m fascinated to see him lowering his head. His mouth is mere inches from mine when he pauses. I fight the urge to say Are you fucking kidding me right now? Don’t you dare stop. “As cute as that rant was, Duchess, it’s totally inaccurate. There are two of us here, and as such, our decisions will be made jointly, especially about sex. Whether you admit it or not, you’ve been through trauma. And the last thing I want to do is rush you into something you’re not ready for.”

  “Don’t you think that’s a question I’m more qualified to answer?” I ask quietly. Although I’m touched at the level of concern I hear so clearly in his voice, it still irritates me to have another man calling the shots. Been there, done that.

  “You’re stubborn, Duchess. And you wouldn’t want to admit to having a weakness.” He touches his lips to mine in a series of short, teasing kisses that set my pulse racing and make me impatient for more. He pulls back without deepening the kiss but doesn’t release me. “I know you were frustrated with me when I held back. And believe me, it was one of the hardest things I’ve ever done. Make no mistake about it, beautiful; I want you. Always have. But I also knew back then that having sex with you so soon after what happened wasn’t right. I’ve done plenty of things in my life I’m not proud of, and I’m far from a saint, but I have never taken advantage of a woman, and I never will.” He trails a fingertip down the curve of my face, and I swallow hard at the tenderness in his expression. “I will always do everything I can to save you, even if it’s only from yourself.” And with that, his mouth fuses to mine, and all hints of teasing are gone. His tongue seeks entry, and my lips part, granting it immediately. He groans low in his throat as he explores and claims. My body goes limp, and he pulls me closer, absorbing my weight into his own. His hands move at some point to my hips, then one settles on the curve of my ass. It’s a kiss of both passion and possession. He leaves no doubt that he wants me desperately yet says without words that I belong to him. I wonder if maybe I’m imagining that last part. After all, if he were that possessive of me, would he have waited for me to make a move? To show up in his bar and force his hand? He might have come to me after that, but I got the ball rolling.

  I whimper in disappointment when he pulls away. I hope it’s to carry me into the bedroom and fuck me senseless—but I know it’s not going to end that way, at least tonight. Why is he the only man I’ve ever desired? I’m not surprised when he takes a few steps back and puts some distance between us. If there’s any consolation, he appears just as turned on as I am. He takes a couple of deep breaths, and the hand he runs through his dark hair has a noticeable tremor. I hope you get blue balls. That evil thought brings a faint smile to my face. His raised brow indicates he noticed. I don’t bother to act ignorant. Instead, I say, “I’m glad you’re suffering just as much as I am.”

  My mouth drops open in shock when he reaches down and makes a show of adjusting the bulge that his lounge pants do a poor job of hiding. “You have no idea,” he grumbles. “Now, if you’re quite ready, Duchess, I need sleep.”

  Might as well play the part. I stick my nose in the air and assume a haughty manner as I move past him. “I do hope you didn’t skimp on your sheets. I don’t sleep on anything less than 1000 thread count.” Damn, that was good.

  My victory party is short-lived, though. Because when he clears his throat loudly, I make the mistake of looking back at him. His gaze slides leisurely down my body before he says, “Your performance might be more convincing if your nipples weren’t hard enough to cut glass.”

  Damn you. I curse my treacherous body as he walks off, no doubt thrilled to have gotten in the last word after all. I feel no real anger, though. How could I? He gave me the best kiss of my life—the only one I’ve ever welcomed—after vowing to always protect me. He’s sitting on the side of the bed looking at his phone when I pass through on the way to the master bath. He’s laid a towel and a robe out for me on the vanity, and I smile at his thoughtfulness. It’s a sad commentary on my life that he’s been kinder to me than anyone has since my mother died. I know it can’t last because nothing good ever does. If you give someone the chance—if you even consider love in the equation—they’ll hurt you and laugh while they’re doing it. I once had hopes and dreams. He could have loved that Jacey, but not this one.

  Who would?

  I reach inside the shower and turn the water on. Then I wearily undress and step under the spray. To my horror, I feel them coming—tears. This is the last place I want to have an emotional meltdown, so I’m grateful that the water muffles the sound of my sobs. I half expect to see Tony charge into the bathroom, but he doesn’t. I remain in the shower until I’m more in control. Then I get out and dry off before brushing my teeth with the toothbrush Tony supplied. I’m grateful to see my suitcase in the corner, so I bypass the robe in favor of a pair of cotton pajama pants and a tank top. I take a deep breath, then open the door and step back into the bedroom. Tony appears to be sound asleep as he reclines against the wooden headboard. The lamp on his nightstand casts him in a soft glow, and for a moment, I simply stand there and stare. He’s such a beautiful man. He’d probably hate that description, but it’s true. And his chest: now that’s a sight to behold. There’s very little hair there, just smooth muscular perfection. In my heart, I believe I could see that face every day for the rest of my life and never grow tired of it. Why can’t things be different—why can’t I be someone like Jade?

  If he knew the truth, he’d never touch me. Never look at me in the same way again. Toss me aside as I rightly deserve. Before my morose thoughts cause tears to return, I block them out—something I’ve perfected through the years.

  Survival.

  As I walk to the other side of the bed, I can only hope he follows through with his promise to give me what I’ve asked for. Because it’s the only way he’ll ever be a part of my life long-term, and if there’s one thing I’m absolutely certain of, it’s that I want—need—this man in my life forever. I may never completely have him. After all, I saw firsthand what he’s offered night after night, and I could never compete with that. But to have his child would keep me in his radar, which is exactly where I want to be. It would be enough. Would have to be enough.

  6

  Tony

  I wake with a hard-on. That is no surprise. You learn early on that it’s a common occurrence and don’t think much about after a while. Don’t get me wrong, it’s fucking great when there’s someone around to take care of it, but if there’s not, you either do it yourself, or it gives up and goes away—for a while at least. The warm body pressed against me certainly means there’s a good chance I won’t be jerking off today. Still half asleep, I run my hand under the cover and give an approving grunt at what I feel. My mind, still hazy, moves sluggishly. It takes me another moment to register that I’m in my apartment. I don’t bring women here. It’s too much of a shit-where-you-eat thing. This place is my sanctuary, and no one has ever been in this bed with me—except her. Then it hits me. My hand freezes on her ass.

  Jacey’s. The hard-on was simply uncomfortable before, but now that it knows she’s near, it has a mind of its own. I wouldn’t be surprised if it jumped out of my fucking pants and into her. Don’t think she’d believe that story. She picks that moment to yawn before stretching. Her tits push into my che
st, and one of her legs comes to rest between mine. It’s going to happen. I’m going to come in my pants for the first time ever. I hear the strain in my voice when I say, “Jacey, for fuck’s sake, stop moving.”

  She moves again, and I groan in frustration. I can feel her eyes upon me now, but I can only make out her outline in the dimness of the room. “Tony?” she asks uncertainly.

  Does she have to sound as if she doesn’t know who she’s in bed with? I attempt to turn my hips away since she’s too close for comfort. But my hand on her ass makes that difficult. So, I yawn loudly, then lift both arms to stretch. There, problem solved. Well, one part of it at least. Now I need her to move to the other side of the bed—hell, across the room would be even better. Sleeping together without sleeping together might not have been the best idea. I interject a relaxed tone into my voice that I’m far from feeling. “Yeah, it’s me, Duchess. You good?” My cock throbs insistently, and my noble intentions are beginning to fray rapidly. For the love of all that’s holy, stop wiggling! She has stretched three times in less than a minute, which has plastered her entire body against my side. Is she doing this shit on purpose? I’m in seven kinds of hell when my phone rings. The sound is like a bomb being dropped, and I nearly jump out of my skin. Then I shift and grab it from the nightstand like a lifeline. If it’s a telemarketer, I’ll buy every fucking thing they’re selling just for this timely interruption. But it’s my uncle Marcel—even better. My dick is waving the white flag since talking to my father’s brother feels like the equivalent of being caught making out by your parents. “Uncle,” I say, then hear him chuckle. I might have sounded a bit more enthusiastic than usual.

  “I didn’t wake you, did I?” he asks, knowing I sleep odd hours thanks to owning a nightclub.