by Nicole Fox
“Okay, Mommy.” He dug into his graham crackers and milk as though he hadn’t eaten all day. I knew he had, but I also knew that his appetite would only get bigger as he grew. How would I keep up with him financially once he went to school in the fall? How would I afford the fundraisers and the field trips? How would I ever manage when he was a growing teenager and needed new clothes and gas money? It hadn’t even happened yet, but I knew that I was already failing him.
“Did you have fun while you stayed with Aunt Maggie?” The old woman who lived in the apartment down the hall had gladly agreed to watch Christopher while I worked. She only asked that I leave some snacks for him and she refused any cash I tried to give her. When I had moved into this shabby apartment—with its tiny floor plan and dingy walls—I had felt sorry for myself. I hadn’t realized then just how lucky I was.
“She’s nice. She gives me cookies.” He grinned, cracker crumbs all over his sweet cheeks.
“And I’m sure you deserved them.” I stood up and turned toward the sink full of dirty dishes.
A knock came at the door, and Christopher flew out of his chair. “I’ll get it! I’ll get it!”
“No, you don’t, young man.” I caught him by the shoulder and directed him back to his seat at the table. “You don’t open the door for strangers.”
“I can look through the peephole,” he insisted. “Like you do.”
I had to smile. “You aren’t tall enough yet, buddy. But someday.” I looked through the peephole myself and jumped backward. It had been years since I’d seen those penetrating, green eyes and that sexy hair, but I still knew exactly who they belonged to. I watched my hand grip the doorknob and slowly turn it. Part of me wanted to hide in one of the bedrooms and pretend we weren’t home, but the other part of me desperately wanted to see him face-to-face.
“Hi, Sophia.” He stood there in front of me, his designer clothes a distinct contrast to the stained linoleum and dim lighting of the hall. Ciro was so tall that I wondered if he was a dream, as he seemed to take up the entire doorway. I could feel his body heat emanating toward me, tempting and teasing me.
“Um, hi. What are you doing here? I mean, uh, it’s been such a long time.” It couldn’t be a coincidence that Joe had just accused me of having a child with another man and then that same man turned up.
“Can I come in?” he asked gently, his deep voice vibrating right through my soul. “I’d like to talk to you.”
He was being polite by asking. He would come in if he wanted to, no matter what I said. I stepped back and held the door open for him, glancing nervously into the hall before I shut it. “It’s nice to see you.”
Ciro nodded, his eyes tracing every strand of my hair and every cell of my skin. “You look wonderful.”
Heat flooded my cheeks. “Thank you.”
“Listen, I know this is a surprise. But I’ve been given some information and it pertains to you. To us. I don’t know if it’s true or not, but I had to see for myself.” He spoke quietly, as though he might bring the whole apartment building rattling down on our heads with the weight of what he had to say. “Joe came to see me yesterday.”
My vision grew dark around the edges. I wanted to laugh it all off and tell him Joe was crazy. He’d believe it. Anyone would. But there was no point in hiding it from Ciro. He deserved to know the truth. “Yes, he and I have had some discussions as well.”
“I don’t want to bother you.” He laid his hand on my arm. I’d had a chill in my heart for the last several years as things had grown steadily worse with Joe, but one touch from Ciro drove it away. “I know you have your own life to live. I just wanted to know the truth.”
“I understand.” I led him out of the entryway and into the living room. “Christopher, this is my friend, Ciro. He’d like to meet you.”
“Hi!” Christopher waved from his seat at the table. “Do you like cars?”
As soon as Ciro’s eyes rested on him, he stopped in his tracks. He was a confident man, one who was part of a very powerful family. He had his enemies killed, and he never regretted it for one moment. He and his family ruled this city, and yet, a tiny boy could give him pause. “I do like cars. What’s your favorite?”
Christopher grinned. “Red ones. They look fast.”
Finally shrugging off the shock of the situation, Ciro strode forward and took a seat next to him. I squirmed inside at seeing a man like him sitting in my beat-up dining chairs. “Sometimes they are. My car is dark blue. Do you think it would go fast?”
My son scrunched up his face in thought. “Maybe, but not as fast as the red ones.”
“You’re probably right.”
As I watched the two of them, I understood why Joe had suddenly become so angry. Though I had seen the resemblance before, it was nothing compared to seeing them side by side. Christopher was Ciro’s son. I didn’t need a DNA test to prove it. Judging by his reaction, neither did Ciro.
“Would you like a cracker?” Christopher held out a soggy wafer that he had already dunked in his milk. I cringed. Nobody would go anywhere near such a thing.
“Maybe just a bite,” Ciro replied. “I ate lunch before I came over.” He good-naturedly took the pinch of cracker Christopher gave him, ate it quickly, and rubbed his stomach. “That’s delicious.”
“It’s my favorite snack. Sometimes we don’t have any, but mommy just got paid.” The boy shoved more cracker in his mouth.
I flushed with embarrassment once again, and I didn’t miss the quick flash of concern that creased Ciro’s brow for a split second. “Christopher, would you like to watch some television?”
“Sure!” He dusted off his hands and hopped down from the chair, throwing himself eagerly on the sagging couch. “Do you want to watch, Ciro?” He stumbled over his name, pronouncing it as “Zero.”
“That’s okay, buddy. I think I’m going to talk to your mom for a little bit.” He stood up from the table and waited patiently as I turned on a show for Christopher.
We couldn’t talk in front of him, but the kitchen and living area were all one room. “We can step out into the hall if you’d like.”
Ciro hadn’t taken his gaze from his son—our son. “I think it’s best if we don’t.” His face was firm, and I knew what he meant. What if Joe was watching? Or what if the neighbors wondered why I was whispering furtively with this man who looked just like Christopher?
I gestured with my head for him to follow me to the other side of the apartment. I didn’t want him to see my bedroom, and I certainly didn’t need to have him in it. My dark-purple comforter was rumpled on the mattress, a result of rising hastily to get ready for work. Since we hadn’t gone to the laundromat yet, the hamper in the corner was full. The room was small, dim, and mangy compared to the bedroom in that glorious Santora mansion where he and I had once made love. I shut the door, feeling as though I had just let him into the darkest, scariest part of my soul.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” He kept his voice low, so as not to disturb Christopher, but it was still firm. He wasn’t pleased. “I should have known.”
For the first time since he had arrived, I felt angry. I pressed my hands to my forehead. “Tell you? How could I have done that? I didn’t even know myself at first. It was just as likely that he was Joe’s, and I had to hope that he was. I couldn’t tell him about that night.”
“He might have understood,” Ciro reasoned. “Things like this happen, and he wouldn’t be the first man to raise another guy’s kid as his own.”
“Joe isn’t like that.” I turned away from him. I couldn’t look at him while I said the things I needed to say. “He hasn’t been the best of fathers. Maybe, deep down, he already knew. I don’t know. But he was difficult enough to be married to before he knew about us.”
His presence rose up behind me, not touching, but only by a fraction of an inch. “Did he hurt you, Sophia? Has he hurt Chris—my son?”
I folded my arms in front of my chest, though there was nothing I could d
o to protect myself from the past. “That’s not important.”
Ciro’s hand wrapped gently around my arm as he turned me around. It was nothing like the way Joe had touched me. “Sophia, yes it is. I know that what we had wasn’t anything …permanent, but it happened. Christopher happened. I need to know what I’ve missed out on, and not just with him. Whatever Joe did, I’ll make him pay.”
“No, you can’t do that!” I pulled away from him, now more terrified than ever. “And I don’t want to talk about it. He’s already made my life a living hell, and it’ll only get worse if you get involved. Maybe, now that he knows Christopher isn’t his, he’ll go away. I can release him from his child support obligation. I can move out of town. He won’t bother us anymore.”
“Don’t you dare go making promises for him. I know that man. He’s nothing but a fucking scumbag. Here.” He pulled out his wallet, removed a business card, and took a pen from his other pocket. “This is my personal cell and my address. If there’s anything you need, you get a hold of me. Okay?”
I nodded as I took the card, my hands shaking and tears threatening to spill over my lashes. I wanted to rely on him, to think of him as our protector, but I knew that life didn’t work that way. I was on my own, no matter what. “Thank you. And I’m glad you came by to see Christopher. I don’t really want him involved with the mafia. I know it’s the kind of life you want to lead, but I never thought a child should be subject to that. That’s why I worked so hard to stay away from you once I found out I was pregnant. No matter who had fathered him, I didn’t want him to grow up in a life of crime.”
Ciro’s shoulders sagged. He let down his air of confidence for just a moment as he pulled me close. His arms were so strong and reliable. I could let every muscle in my body relax and he would never let me fall. Hearing the throbbing heartbeat in his chest, I wanted to curl up against it and sleep forever. “Sophia, I’m so sorry. I’m sorry that you went through all this. You don’t deserve it. Christopher is beautiful. You’re beautiful.”
I tipped my head up to look at him, and before I knew it, our lips were pressed together. His body heat was intense, enveloping and enticing me. What was it about him that was so irresistible? I twined my arms around his waist, eager for more. He moved one hand to cradle the back of my neck.
Ciro broke our lip lock, but kept me close so that I could still feel his lips moving in front of mine as he spoke. “I don’t know what else to say, Sophia, except that I want you.”
My insides turned to a pleasant liquid. “Then don’t say anything at all.”
We fell onto my bed, rumpled comforter and all, fighting desperately to get past each other’s clothes and down to skin. My nipples grew hard as they pressed against his firm chest. He only paused for a moment to retrieve something from his wallet before his pants were off. I was wet already, barely wanting to give him enough time to use protection. I needed him so desperately. Every sleepless night, every argument with Joe, every time I cried as I wondered how I would support Christopher—it all seemed to melt away at his touch. I knew I couldn’t live in this fantasy world for long, but I was going to enjoy it while I could.
I cried out when he entered me, and Ciro’s heavy hand immediately clamped over my mouth. “Sshh! I don’t want to disturb Christopher.” He tipped his hips slowly, pushing deeper inside of me until my eyes threatened to roll up into my head. He was even bigger than I remembered. His other arm was still wrapped around me, the muscles tightening with each long thrust. “You promise not to scream?”
I nodded, but I grinned at him as soon as he removed his hand. “I promise I’ll try not to, but you better promise to make me want to.” I never wanted that arm to let go of me. It felt so good to have someone in my bed who wasn’t trying to rape me or take vengeance on me for something I may or may not have done. We just wanted each other, and we gave as much as we took. I spread my legs to allow him all the way inside and wrapped them around his hips. We were entwined, entangled, and forever woven together by a night of passion six years ago.
“I’ll do my absolute best.” He pounded into me now, no longer going slowly and gently. He was a desirous animal, finally getting the satisfaction he craved. I felt him grow bigger inside of me, pushing against me. My own body responded with rippling waves of pleasure that fluttered through me and enticed him to his peak.
As the pleasure became too much, I bit my lip to keep myself from screaming. Ciro saw my predicament and fixed it his own way, muffling me with his own mouth. His tongue plunged in rhythm with his hips until I quivered. My soft moans mingled with his grunts of pleasure as he came, his hips surging against mine.
He fell on top of me when he was done, using his right arm to keep his weight from crushing me, but still holding me with his left. “I don’t regret what we did together at that party,” he whispered. “I couldn’t have resisted you back then any more than I can now, and you’ve made a beautiful son.”
It was my turn to hold him now, running my hands through his thick, dark waves of hair and tracing the muscles of his back. Ciro was strong and powerful. He could change my entire life. But things were too complicated, and I knew it would never happen. I closed my eyes, memorizing every plane of his body. I wanted to remember it when I was all alone again.
Chapter Six
Sophia
I felt hung over as I made my way to my father’s house. That early afternoon pleasure session with Sophia had been unexpected, but that didn’t mean I hadn’t enjoyed it. She was so soft and curvy in all the right places. I would see her again—I had to—and I knew we would do much more than talk. Leaving her bed had felt like leaving half of my life force there on the sheets next to her. I was cold and tired, miserable until I could have her in my arms again. Even after all this time, she could still create such an intense need within me that I didn’t know how to go on until I had satisfied it.
But the first thing I needed to think about was Christopher. The boy was just amazing. I’d never felt such instant love for another person, but the moment I’d laid eyes on him I’d known he was mine. I had to find some way to be a part of his life, even if Sophia never told him I was his real father. I could simply be Sophia’s friend, and the three of us could go out for dinner or have a fun day at an amusement park. Men did that sort of thing all the time when they were trying to get into the mother’s pants. There was no reason I couldn’t when I had already been there. Christopher would figure it out eventually. He resembled me enough already, and I was sure he would only look more like me as he grew older.
There was, however, one other factor that had to be considered even before the boy: Joe. Setting aside everything that had to do with Sophia and Christopher, I knew the crooked cop had become a danger to the family. That couldn’t be allowed.
It was a hot, summer afternoon, and I knew exactly where my father would be. I let myself in the house and threaded my way immediately to a set of French doors in the back. The covered porch ran the entire length of the house, topped with a second-story balcony that rounded and bulged out over the pool. Potted ferns hung at equal distances from each overhang, breaking up the stark-white siding and railing. Large rocks and extensive landscaping made the shape of the pool look more like a pond, though the water was pale blue and clear. It was more like a resort hotel than a home, but I had grown up with this as my backyard.
Big T was in his oversized chaise lounge. He had a frosty mixed drink in one hand and his phone in the other, his beefy thumb sliding across the screen. “Ciro. I wasn’t expecting you today. How are things going in the shipping world?”
I knew what he wanted from me. He wanted me to tell him how much I was enjoying turning this shadow corporation into something real, with paper trails and inspections and employee payroll. He was eager to hear that I had changed my mind and that becoming normal business operators was the way to go. I would have to tell him otherwise, but maybe later.
“It’s fine, but I have something more pressing to speak to you
about.” I took a seat next to him, but I didn’t put my feet up and recline into the lounge chair. This was no time for sitting still and relaxing. I rested my elbows on my knees and thought about how I was going to explain all of this. “You know Joe Pitera.”
My father glanced at me for a moment before returning to his phone. His chins seemed to get in the way of looking down far enough. “Of course. That asshole cop. I can’t say I like him, but he has done a lot of work for us. Nobody thinks twice when a cop shoots a man who turns out to be part of the notorious Vincenzo family or a drug dealer who just happened to gyp us. It’s convenient.” He stopped suddenly and looked out over the pool. “I guess we won’t be needing him anymore.”
“We don’t,” I assured him. “We definitely don’t. And he’s made it quite clear that he doesn’t need us anymore, either.”
