by Chelle Bliss
My father’s eyes widen. He doesn’t say a thing as he leans back, resting his elbow on the armrest of the chair, and he places his fingers against his lips.
“Say something.”
He takes his glasses off, placing them on the table in front of him. “Santino’s only daughter?”
“Yes.”
“Out of all the women in Chicago, you sleep with Santino’s daughter?”
“It wasn’t intentional.”
“Your dick just happened to fall into her?” He raises an eyebrow.
“Well, no.”
“Did you know who she was when you slept with her?”
“Yes.”
This is how my father works. First, he loses his shit, letting his feelings and temper get in the way of rationality. Then there’re a few minutes where he rants and raves before he finally settles down. Hopefully, this won’t be any different.
He slams his hand down on the table, causing the espresso pot to bounce, along with everything else, including our mugs. “How could you have been so careless?”
“Love defies logic.”
“You mean your prick has no boundaries.”
I stay calm because anything else could be disastrous.
“Pop, Santino’s out of the business, and you two used to be friends. What’s done is done. Daphne’s having my child, and if you can’t accept them as part of our family…”
“Wait,” he says and holds up his hand. “Santino’s out?”
I nod. Naturally, that’s the one thing my father hears and cares about.
“This changes things,” he mumbles and rubs his hands together slowly.
“You’re unbelievable. Even if he weren’t, it wouldn’t change how I feel about Daphne or my unborn child.”
“Of course not.” He waves his hand dismissively. “Set up a meeting. We’ll handle things.”
“I’ll set up a meeting, Pop, but you aren’t handling anything. You either make peace, or I’m done with you,” I tell him before I stand. “It’s your choice. You can either gain a grandchild or lose a son.”
There’s nothing left to say. The ball’s in my father’s court now. He can continue being a hard-ass, letting business get in the way of family, or he can figure out a way to coexist with the Gallos. I’m done playing games, and I sure as hell don’t live to please my father.
Daphne’s at the bar working, when I begged her to stay home and take it easy. The woman is defiant to the core.
“What are you doing?” I ask as I sit on a barstool across from her while she dries a glass.
She stops moving and looks up at me. “Don’t start.”
“Did you eat today?”
“I did.” Her eyes narrow.
I know she’s annoyed, but I don’t give a shit. I do get to voice how I feel because she’s carrying my child too. “Enough?”
She sets the glass down and leans over with her elbows pressing into the bar top. “I had plenty. Is this how you’re going to be the entire pregnancy?”
I shrug and play innocent. “What way is that?”
“Overbearing.”
I laugh and shake my head. “I care about your well-being and our baby’s. There’s a difference.”
“Listen,” she starts to say, but then her brother walks over, stopping her from telling me off.
“Leo. Back so soon?” Angelo asks.
“I had to check on my girl.”
He runs his fingers through his dark brown hair and shakes his head. “I’m not sure how I feel about you with my sister.”
Daphne smacks him on the chest with the back of her hand. “Don’t be a jerk, Angelo.”
“You better do right by her,” he tells me with a serious look. “If you don’t, you won’t have to worry about my father because I’ll find you first.”
I stare at my old childhood friend, knowing he’s a man of his word just as much as I am. “Noted.”
“Takes balls to come in here,” Lucio, Daphne’s other brother, says as he comes to stand by their side. He’s staring at me more intensely, having missed the entire conversation we had earlier.
“I can’t hide.”
“My father’s already put the word out that you’re not to be touched unless provoked,” Daphne says in response to Lucio’s statement.
“Provoked?” I ask as I draw my eyebrows inward.
“You plannin’ on drawing a gun on someone?” Lucio asks, which explains everything I need to know.
“No. I don’t even carry one.”
“Don’t say that too loud,” Angelo says and starts to laugh, but I’m not sure I see the humor.
Lucio turns his attention toward his sister. “Daphne, it’s dead in here tonight. Why don’t you go home and relax? You were just in the hospital yesterday, and Leo’s right, you should take it easy.”
“We got this,” Angelo tells her and takes the towel out of her hands. “Go.”
I smile, liking her brothers more than I ever expected. For once, I feel like someone is on my side instead of fighting me at every turn.
“I could go for pizza,” Daphne says as she rubs her stomach.
“Pizza, it is.” I smile at my girl.
“I’ll grab my things. Be right back.”
I watch her as she disappears down the hallway to the stock room, and when I turn around, her brothers are eyeing me.
“You break her heart, and we’ll end your life,” Lucio says as he leans in so no one else can hear. “If she gets hurt because of you, we’ll make sure it’s painful.”
“And slow,” Angelo adds.
I hold up my hands. “Guys, I only want to do what’s right. I love your sister. I’d never do anything to hurt her, and I’d never allow anyone to put their hands on her. I’ll protect her and make her happy.”
“Ready?” Daphne says as she walks toward me, oblivious to what just transpired between her brothers and me.
“You two have a good night,” I say as I stand and snake my arm around Daphne’s back, gripping her hip.
“Let’s grab the pizza and take it back to your place.”
“Alfredo’s?” she asks with a twinkle in her eye.
“From anywhere you want, bella.”
Daphne devours twice as much pizza as I do, moaning the entire time.
“This is so good.” She closes her eyes and hums her approval as she chews another bite. “Have you ever tasted anything better than this?”
“I have,” I say, watching her carefully and trying not to let my lust overcome her hunger.
Her tongue pokes out and sweeps across her lips, and I lose all ability to think. “You’re taunting me,” I warn, feeling my resistance slipping.
“You look hungry,” she says, giving no fucks what she’s doing to me.
“I am, bella, and if you’re not careful, I’m going to push the pizza on the floor and feast on you instead.”
She gives me a smug grin. “Maybe that’s all part of my master plan.”
I grab the pizza slice from her fingers just as she’s going for another bite. “You can eat later after we work up an appetite.”
She tries to take the slice back, but I drop the piece to the floor and grab her wrists. “Me or pizza?”
“That’s such a hard decision.” She smirks and moves her head from side to side like she really has to think about the answer.
“If you have to think that hard”—her gaze dips to my lips as I speak—“I need to do better.”
She struggles a little in my grasp. “My answer is definitely pizza, then.” She giggles.
I pull her forward, bringing her mouth close to mine. “I’m about to change your reality in a hurry, sweetheart. Be ready to never eat pizza without thinking about me again.”
That’s the way I want it too. I want to be her be all and end all. There’s no other man in the world who’ll be good enough for Daphne Gallo, and there’s no way in hell I’ll let another man raise my child. Daphne hasn’t said yes, but she’s going to be my wife.
“Such a big talker. Let’s see if you have the moves to back up your words,” she challenges, and I’m ready to rock her world.
I pull her into my lap and stare into her eyes. “I love you, Daphne Gallo,” I whisper against her lips.
It’s the first time I’ve said the three most important and scariest words to her. We’ve danced around the topic, shared our feelings, but never actually said “I love you” to one another.
She blinks slowly and smiles. “I love you too, Leo Conti. Now you better put up or shut up.”
I wrap my arms around her back, pressing her body flush against mine. “Soft or hard?” I ask, giving her the choice in how she wants me to love her.
“Hard and slow,” she says all breathless and wanton. She grinds her middle against my jeans. “I want to feel it tomorrow.”
My lips crash down on hers as my arms tighten, holding her closer. She moans and rocks back and forth, riding my cock through the fabric of my jeans and driving me completely mindless with lust.
I want to own her body, claim her, as much as she owns mine. Her tongue dips between my lips, and I’m a goner. Daphne Gallo has me in knots, not knowing up from down or left from right.
I slide my hand up her back as she pulls my shirt up before touching my skin. She hums her approval as her fingers trace the dips and ridges of my abdomen, sending goose bumps across my chest.
My lips trace a path down her jaw, finding the spot on her neck where her heart’s beating wildly, matching my own. Her knees tighten at my sides as I lick her soft skin and nibble her neck where it meets her shoulder blade. This is her magic spot. The one that makes her quiver in my arms.
Her fingers tangle in my hair as her head tips back, giving me full access. I stand as her arms wrap around my back, and my lips stay on her skin. She’s in my arms, holding my face to her neck as I carry her toward the bedroom.
“I need you,” she whispers as I place her on the bed and cover her body with my own.
“I want you,” I say against her skin.
Her knees fall to the sides as I move down her body and unbutton her shirt, pushing the material to the sides. “Lower,” she tells me.
I smile, unable to stop myself, because Daphne Gallo is always bossy. Even in bed.
She lets out a happy sigh, relaxing into the bed as I pull her pants down her legs, exposing her lace underwear. My mouth waters, and I want to be inside her, bury myself so deep I can’t even breathe. But this is the part I savor, the moment I take slowly before I give her exactly what she wants…the hard stuff.
My fingers dip into the sides of her panties as I pull them down her legs and drop the clothes to the floor behind me. She lifts her ass toward my face, always impatient and a little greedy, just the way I like her.
Her knees touch the mattress as I bring my mouth down on her, sucking her clit gently. She lets out a loud gasp, jerking upward, offering her pussy to me. I take it, devouring her core with my tongue and lips, loving the way she tastes.
I’m calculated in my movements, following her body language and touching her the way she needs to be touched.
“Yes!” she cries out, rocking her bottom toward my face, practically grinding her pussy against me.
I want her orgasm. I want her pleasure. But not this way. I want to be buried deep inside her, leaving my imprint, owning her.
When my lips leave her body, her eyes fly open. “What are you doing?” she asks as I undo my pants and kick them to the floor.
“Bella, I want to make love to you. I want to feel your body squeezing me, wanting me, needing me.”
“But I was…”
I bring my face close to hers and stare into her eyes. “You’ll come, baby. I’ll make sure of it.”
Her fingernails dig into the skin of my back as I push my cock ever so slowly inside her warmth. We rock together, gasping for air and never wanting the moment to end.
I make love to Daphne. First slow and loving, and then, when she’s ready and I’m finally willing, I pound into her until she can’t form another word.
19
Daphne
“Are you ready for this?”
Today’s the day. Our fathers have agreed to a sit-down, for a brief time, to discuss how they’re going to handle our relationship and their future grandchild. They’re over-the-top ridiculous and idiotic. I’ll never understand why men do the crazy, silly shit they do, and age doesn’t seem to help them either.
Leo leans forward and kisses the top of my head. “It’ll be fine.” I’m not sure if he’s trying to convince me or himself.
My father wanted Mario to come to the bar for the meeting, but we all knew that was a horrible idea. I’ve seen enough mafia movies to know a sit-down has to take place in a neutral location. No mob boss is willing to go into enemy territory, even if it is to call a truce.
Leo invited both men to his penthouse for a one-on-one, figuring it was the only place that made any kind of sense. He invited his father to come over early because I haven’t had the pleasure, and I use that word very loosely, of meeting the Mario Conti.
“What if it’s not?” I check my makeup in the mirror for at least the third time, wanting to look perfect.
I’m always a skeptic, especially when it has anything to do with my father. Leo’s father is the great unknown to me, but Leo’s told me he’s just as much of a hard-ass as my dad. So, basically, we’re screwed unless they can rise above their petty bullshit for the sake of their grandchild.
Leo squeezes my shoulders from behind me as I stare at my reflection. “Trust me. They may be pigheaded, but neither man is stupid. It’s going to be all right, Daphne,” he tells me when I give him a skeptical smile in the mirror.
“Why am I so nervous?”
I had trouble applying my eyeliner a few minutes ago because my hands were shaking so badly I couldn’t draw a straight line to save my life. I know how much is at stake with this meeting and the myriad ways shit could go south. If my father and Mario can’t work things out… Well, I don’t even want to think about how that’ll impact the life of my baby, our baby, in the future.
Before Leo can respond, the doorman calls, letting us know Mario Conti is on his way up in the elevator. I shake out my hands, trying to get rid of a little nervous energy before the show begins.
“Relax,” Leo says like it’s just that easy.
That’s totally a man thing. My three brothers are barely ever rattled about anything. I never see them pacing with worry or popping Xanax like it’s their lifeblood. That’s purely a woman thing. And I’m not sexist, I’m a realist. Men let shit slide off their backs, figuring what’s done is done and what will be will be, so they don’t even bother spending any energy worrying about how they fucked something up. I never thought I was a worrier. But the older I get, and now with the baby on the way, my stress level is off the charts ridiculous.
The elevator chimes before the doors open, revealing an older, just as handsome version of Leo. Mr. Conti’s studying something on his phone when he steps into the foyer dressed in a three-piece suit, shoes so polished I’m sure I could see my own reflection, and his hair perfectly styled like he just stepped out of the silver fox edition of GQ magazine.
His gaze travels up my body, but not in that creepy way, before his eyes meet mine. There’s no smile on his face, no way for me to judge what the hell he’s thinking.
“Pop, it’s good of you to join us,” Leo says, greeting his father with way more formality than I’ve ever greeted mine.
His father’s eyes veer away from me for a moment to look at his son, and I’m thankful for a reprieve, even if it’s short-lived. “Leo,” he says coldly before his gaze is back on me. “You must be Daphne.” He steps forward, entering the foyer which now seems way too small for the three of us.
“It’s nice to meet you, Mr. Conti.” I somehow smile, even though all I want to do is run and hide.
He studies me for a moment, not saying a word. I’m about to hypervent
ilate, wishing I could excuse myself and slink away to anywhere else but here. “I can see why my son is so enamored of you,” he tells me, finally cracking what I think is a smile.
I glance nervously to Leo for a moment, looking for a rescue. “Thank you, sir.” I keep my words formal, always remembering my upbringing and the respect for my elders that was practically beaten into me as a child.
“Mario, please.” He dips his chin and takes another step closer.
I resist the urge to back up and flee, knowing it’ll do nothing to help smooth the waters and gain favor with Leo’s father. “Mario,” I say softly.
Mario grabs my hand and lifts it to his mouth. “You’ve grown into a beautiful woman, Daphne.” He kisses the top of my hand so softly, I barely feel his lips on my skin.
Sometimes I forget the Contis lived in our neighborhood. I can’t remember a time when there was peace in my life instead of the constant bullshit my father has brought on my family over the last two decades.
Leo pulls me backward as Mario releases my hand. “Would you like some coffee, Pop?” Leo asks as he moves us toward the living room like he’s trying to put distance between his father and me.
“I’ll take a glass of wine,” Mario answers as he follows behind us to the living room.
“Thanks for coming today,” I say out of nervousness as I place a hand on my stomach. “It means a lot to us.”
Mario takes a seat on the couch across from me, studying my face with his steely eyes. “We’re going to be family,” Leo’s father says a few moments later.
I nod and tug at the hem of my skirt, pulling it down over my knees. “We are.” I laugh for some reason, wishing I could have a glass of wine too. Awkward moments are always easier to swallow with a drink.
Mario takes the glass of wine from Leo, looking every bit a businessman instead of a cold-hearted mobster. There’s a not-so-comfortable silence as we sit on the couch, Leo and I on one side of the room, and his father on the other. In situations like this, I always talk, trying to fill the void. Silence isn’t something I’m used to in my family. Three brothers and a very outspoken mom make quiet almost an impossibility.
