by Sam Mariano
I glare at Mia, since she’s the only one of the bunch who looks remorseful for her part in this trap. “Unbelievable.”
“I’m sorry,” she says sadly, like we’re old friends and she has thrust a dagger into my back. “I was doing a favor for Rafe. I thought you’d come more easily if another woman was here. I know how tired you must be of the men.”
“So fucking tired of them, you don’t even know.”
“No one is going to hurt you. We just want to take you back to the mansion. You can stay for dinner. Rafe is flying in and he wants to talk to you. Apparently you’re not taking his calls.”
I’m not taking any Vegas calls. “Do you know what it means when someone avoids someone else’s calls? It means they don’t want to talk to them, and they definitely don’t want to see them.”
“The Morelli men aren’t big on taking ‘no’ for an answer,” she informs me.
“How do they feel about getting stabbed? Because I’m feeling kinda stabby.”
“Knife play, huh?” Alec asks, winking at me. “Should’ve told me you were into that when we went for coffee, maybe I would have called you back.”
“I hate you.”
Alec grins, giving my shoulders a squeeze. “I know. I’m sorry. It’s fun to pick on you.”
Fun to pick on me, huh? “Well, if knife play excites you, you would really be kicking yourself if you knew all the things I will do in bed.”
That wipes the smile off his stupid, handsome face.
It brings one to mine, though. I feel a little better about this kidnapping if I at least got a good jab in at red car guy.
Mia grins at me, then shoots Alec a sassy smile. “I don’t know what you did to her, but I feel like you deserved that.”
“I’m the nice Morelli,” he insists.
I slide him a dry look. “That’s like being the least harmful demon in hell. No points for you, buddy.”
Now a little smile tugs at the corner of Adrian’s mouth. “Rafe really pissed you off, huh?”
“Rafe didn’t even piss me off, I just can’t do it. I can’t hang with this family. I can’t handle all the mind games and manipulation. You guys are so fucked up.”
In his own defense, Adrian points out, “Hey, I’m not a blood Morelli.”
“No, you’re the Chicago Sin, bending the world to suit the needs and desires of the spoiled asshole you work for.”
Mia’s eyebrows rise and she slows down to fall in step beside me. “There’s a Vegas Adrian?”
“Sin is not the Vegas Adrian,” Adrian tells Mia. “I’m higher up than he is. Sin is still just Rafe’s enforcer, isn’t he?”
“Yes,” I murmur, glumly.
“Is he dreamy?” Alec jokes.
“Yes,” I murmur, just as glumly.
Mia’s smile falls. “Uh oh.”
“He’s also the devil,” I inform her. “A manipulative, heart-breaking monster.”
“Uh oh,” Alec echoes. “That sounds way too familiar. You know all about those, right, Mia?”
Mia shoots him a dirty look. “My husband is perfect; shut up.”
Smirking faintly, Adrian says, “With that description, he is definitely not the Vegas Adrian.”
Alec concurs, “Vegas Mateo.”
“No,” Mia says, more adamantly than I would expect, given she has no stake in any of this. “Don’t say that. I want to be on Rafe’s side; there can’t be a Vegas Mateo.”
If they knew him, they would understand. Sin isn’t a version of anyone but himself. He’s one-of-a-kind, irreplaceable. I’ll never meet another Sin as long as I live.
Depressed by this new line of thought, I let them drag me back to their Escalade, fully aware that resistance is futile.
When I first encountered Alec Morelli, I had no idea who he was. Hell, I had no idea about the Morelli family, period. The edgiest thing I had ever done was try pot at a party one time; I knew next to nothing about Chicago’s criminal underworld.
Then one day a handsome man swept into my life. It seemed serendipitous, a meet-cute from a more innocent time when I didn’t know how much of the Morelli experience was just a performance. I met a hot guy at a coffee shop, we seemed to hit it off, and he asked me out to dinner. Day made. Then things got shady. I didn’t realize how shady at the time, when he suddenly cut our date short midway through dinner and hustled me out to his red sports car after getting a mysterious phone call. At most, I may have figured Alec for a fuckboy and dismissed the whole experience as a date gone mysteriously wrong, but then Easter happened.
Mateo Morelli, Chicago’s leading king of crime, invited me to Easter dinner. That would have been really weird, except my sister was dating his cousin, Vince, and they were coming to town for the holiday. I thought it was nice. A big Italian family extending an invite to come celebrate with them so I wasn’t left out. Nothing is ever simple with these people, though. I came for dinner so I could spend the holiday with Carly and Vince, saw Alec Morelli enter the dining room, and got shushed by my sister. Wordlessly, she begged me not to say anything. I figured I would go to her room later and find out why the hell red car guy was at the table—that couldn’t be a coincidence, right?—and more importantly, why she needed me to keep quiet about recognizing him, but then the main event rolled in.
Rafe Morelli, then the Vegas up-and-comer, now their very own crime king—and, you know, the man who impregnated me that very weekend. Once he got there and turned his captivating attention on me, I struggled to remember my own name. Forget trying to unravel their secrets, I was more interested in getting tangled up in the sheets with the sexiest man who had ever noticed me. Seducing me was only supposed to be a game to him, a favor to Mateo, a way to piss off my sister for whatever reason, but the game changed when the condom failed, and now look where we all are.
Once I’m in their car, I know I’m not going anywhere unless they want me to. They take me back to their giant, beautiful house. Honestly, house seems a misnomer; this place is a palace. I was blown away by it when I first saw it, but now I harbor too much resentment to allow myself to be impressed.
Alec disappears once I’m safely imprisoned in their house. Adrian sticks around, but now that I’m under their roof, he doesn’t even seem as worried about keeping an eye on me. Instead, he takes the shopping bag from Mia and draws out a box. Then the scary-looking Mafioso begins carefully removing the doll from its packaging and tells Mia he’ll take it to the playroom.
“Come to my room, we’ll get you ready for dinner,” she tells me, once we’re alone.
I look around curiously. “Am I considered a low flight-risk or something?”
“You’re not our prisoner, Laurel,” she assures me.
“So, I can leave?”
“Well, no. At least not until Rafe gets here.” Attempting a cheerful tone, she says, “Don’t think of it as a forced visit. I’m really happy you’re here. As soon as Rafe told me you were pregnant, I told him he should bring you here. Are there any other Morelli women in Vegas to help you learn the way of things?”
Her words remind me of Sin’s sensual prison. If there were women in Vegas, I didn’t even get a chance to meet them. I was swept up in my Sin bubble most of the time. “I’m not sure. I spent most of my time in Vegas cuffed to a bed.”
A burst of surprised laughter escapes her. “Oh. Well, I’m sure you had more fun playing with Rafe anyway. I’m not familiar with the Vegas players.” Placing an earnest hand to her chest, she tells me, “I do know when I first got dragged into this family, I found it extremely helpful when Vince’s sister gave me a little introductory course. You met Cherie, right?”
I nod, recalling the beautiful brunette Vince introduced me and Carly to over Easter. “Yep, briefly.”
“Between her and Francesca, I had helpful guides to aid me through my adjustment period. Since today is Sunday and you’re in Chicago, I can introduce you to a Morelli staple—at least, a Chicago staple. I’m not sure how Rafe runs things, but we always ha
ve a mandatory family dinner on Sundays. My husband is very fond of them. I’ll warn you, it may initially feel a bit sexist, but I actually really like them. We’ll get all dolled up, then we’ll head downstairs and make dinner while the men adjoin to the study for pre-dinner drinks.”
My eyes widen, images of handsome, well-dressed men in lush leather wing chairs drinking Scotch and smoking cigars floating to mind. It’s a mental image from another time, but somehow I can see Rafe enjoying that.
“After everything is done, we will serve our own men. Obviously that means you’ll serve Rafe, then sit beside him while we eat.”
“I won’t kneel on the ground at his feet?” I joke.
“Well, what you do after dinner is your business,” she says, slyly.
Sin is the only one I want to kneel for, and he’s not interested. I sigh heavily, but Mia misinterprets and offers a tiny, apologetic smile.
“I know the dinner business is a little old-school, but it can actually be kind of sexy. Mateo and Rafe are both into the illusion of a subservient little wife. Fun fact: back when I met Rafe, within 10 minutes of meeting him, he had me cooking him breakfast. Just because he told me to.”
I smile faintly, following her down a long-ass corridor. “Was that in Vegas, or here?”
“Vegas. The only time I’ve been there.”
Since I love my brother-in-law, I don’t really want to ask, but there will probably never be a better time, either. Normally when I’m around Mia, she has some kind of entourage—whether it’s Adrian, her husband, or one of her little munchkins, but right now it’s just us. “Can I ask an awkward question?”
Pushing open a white door and gesturing for me to go inside ahead of her, she nods, but I can see reluctance on her face. “Sure.”
“Did Vince kidnap you?”
Her eyebrows rise, like that wasn’t the question she was expecting. “Oh. Um… yeah, for a few days.” Quickly changing the subject, she strides across the room and flings open what appears to be her closet. A closet a small family could live in, but a closet, nonetheless. “Anyway, I hope you don’t find this creepy, but when Rafe told me he wanted us to bring you to dinner, I was so excited, I went out and bought you a maternity dress to wear.”
My eyes widen, her distraction working as I follow her inside the giant walk-in closet. “You bought me a maternity dress?”
Mia nods, grabbing a garment bag and draping it across a marble counter so she can unzip it. “I got you a pair of my favorite maternity leggings, too. Not to wear tonight, they’re just my favorite, comfy things, so I thought you should have a pair. It gets hard to feel sexy when you’re pregnant, but these stylish little leggings always do the trick. I know you won’t be showing for a while, but there’s a belly panel for when you are. And I got you these cute shoes to go with the dress,” she adds, opening a cupboard beneath the counter and pulling out a shoe box. Patting the box, she adds, “I have a pair myself, and they’re really comfortable for heels. Later on in pregnancy, you’ll care more about comfort than how pretty your shoes are, but these are the best of both worlds. I have lots of pregnancy pro-tips if you’re ever interested.”
I take the shoe as she hands it to me, noting the Jimmy Choo tag inside. I don’t shop high-end shoes, but I know these are high-end shoes. “Why are you being so nice to me?”
Appearing startled, Mia looks at me over her shoulder as she closes my shoe box. “Why wouldn’t I be nice to you?”
I bend to slip the shoe on my foot and check the fit. “I know you obviously like Rafe and you’re clearly into this whole… idea of us coupling up and having a baby together, but that is not my plan. I left Vegas because I don’t want to be with Rafe. I don’t want this life. No offense. Obviously you have been nothing but nice to me, but this is not what I want. I want to go back to the life I had before I met Rafe, before I met any of you. I just…. I just want to go back.”
Sympathy is written all over her pretty features. Dropping the dress and shoes, she turns around and takes my hand, like she wants to offer me comfort. “I don’t see that happening. You’re pregnant with his baby, Laurel. Even if you don’t want to be with him, that means he’ll be present in your life. I really hope you’ll give him a shot though. I know he can be a little… Rafe-like, but he obviously likes you, and I think he has it in him to be a really good man.”
“I’m not saying he’s a bad man… although, I mean, that argument could certainly be made.”
“They’re really not that bad once you get used to them,” she assures me. “When you’re new to the family, the men can be a bit much, but you’ll see. They have their quirks, but they are good partners. They’ll do anything to protect you. They come off a bit old-fashioned, but they honestly treasure you in ways men these days just don’t anymore. I know you have your doubts, but I feel like Rafe could make you really happy if you let him.”
I can’t argue with that. I mean, I could. I could tell her what an absolute asshole he was to me when I told him I was pregnant, or about how he let other women flirt with him right in front of me, or the date I had to watch him with at dinner. Hell, I could even tell her Rafe isn’t the problem, that the problem is I developed hard-and-fast feelings for Sin, and going back to Vegas means facing him, even if I go with Rafe.
But I can’t say any of that, because she looks so damn hopeful, and even though she barely knows me, she’s out buying me all her must-have maternity items like I’m already part of the family. Mia has probably been indoctrinated for so long, she doesn’t see any other way. Rafe wants me, so I must be his happily ever after.
Rather than rain on her parade, I offer a smile. “Maybe. We’ll see what happens.”
Her smile comes back and she pats my hand. “As long as you’re open to it.” Dropping my hand, she’s all business again as she tells me, “Now, why don’t you go take a shower so we can get you ready for dinner?”
3
Laurel
After she dolls me up, Mia takes me to the kitchen and introduces me as Rafe’s girlfriend.
I stare at her, and she comes back with a blank, “What?”
She’s crazy. The other blonde in the kitchen doesn’t seem to care whose girlfriend I am; she’s in work-mode, and assigns me the job of filling all the water and wine glasses she put on the table.
It’s a long table, though not as cramped as it was over Easter. Tonight the chairs are spread out so everyone has a little more room, but as I fill wine glasses, I wonder which seat will be mine. There’s no point filling my wine glass since I won’t drink it. Considering it just makes me think about the craziness of this whole situation. Dining with mob bosses—not what I thought I would be doing over my summer vacation.
“We’re gonna have to get you a maid costume.”
The sound of Rafe’s voice sends a shiver down my spine. I straighten and turn to face him. Despite myself, I can’t help softening when I see him leaning against the arched entryway, arms crossed over his broad chest, a warm smile on his beautiful face. Maybe it’s because this is almost exactly where I was the first time I saw him, when the sight of him nearly stopped my heart, but he somehow looks even better in person than in my memory—again.
Now it’s not just the command he oozes leaning there, practically bursting out of his well-tailored suit. Flashes of his naked, powerful body moving over mine as he thrust inside me come to mind, along with more casually warm memories, like standing with him at the Grand Canyon, or the way he looked in the glow of the Vegas lights as we walked the strip and devoured strawberry shortcakes.
He can be scary and sexy and sweet.
Oh, and an asshole.
I try to remember that last one as I go back to filling wine glasses, as if unaffected. “You want me to wear a sexy maid costume in front of your whole family? Not sure I’m that kinky, sorry.”
“Nah, that’ll just be for me.” From my peripherals, I can see him push off the wall and head in my direction. “You can wear it when you make me dinner
once we go back to Vegas. I’ll let you make my bed, and I’ll enjoy the view when you bend over. Then I’ll toss you on top and we can fuck up the nice, neat bedding.”
His casual arrogance draws a helpless smile out of me. “I’m not going back there, Rafe. I’m only here right now because your cousin’s wife kidnapped me.”
Moving behind me, Rafe settles his hands on my hips like he did at the bookstore. Tension gathers in my shoulders, but I refuse to look back at him. “You seem to be cooperating pretty well for someone who’s being held captive, kitten.”
I offer a dry smile he can’t see, and wouldn’t understand even if he could. “Yes, apparently I excel at being held against my will. Maybe I should start charging a premium for my services.”
“There’s that Price business sense kicking in.” I feel his amusement as he leans in to kiss my neck. “I’ve missed you.”
I didn’t expect him to say that, and it makes my heart drop. Maybe because I’ve spent all my time missing someone else. In an attempt to redirect and get his tempting lips off me, I ask, “Why did you tell your family I’m pregnant? We haven’t even discussed this yet, and I’m pretty sure Mia is already dead-set on being a bridesmaid in our wedding.” I look at him over my shoulder. “She bought me a maternity wardrobe.”
Now he chuckles, even more warmth seeping into his tone. “That sounds right. Mia’s fiercely protective of her tribe; sounds like you’re getting a forceful invitation to be part of it. She probably assumes I’m making a mess and wants to do whatever she can to fix it.”
