by Kiera Silver
Her father looked betrayed. “What, you expect me to have family dinners with this scum? To just sit around the Christmas tree passing gifts back and forth, knowing how much blood is on his hands? I’m afraid I can’t do that, Grace.”
“I’ve always tried to do what you wanted me to, Dad. I tried to be a perfect daughter and make you happy. I can’t do that this time. I love you, and I always will, but I can’t give up Larenz to make you happy. You’re going to have to find a way to make this work, or you won’t be part of my life. I hope you can move past your anger and disapproval to at least be civil with Larenz. I don’t expect you to love him, or for him to call you Dad, but if you both love me as much as you claim, you’ll find a way to set aside the past and at least pretend you like each other. For the sake of all of us.”
Her tone was stern, and she realized she was using the same one on her father that he had used on her when she was younger. She’d heard that tone very infrequently over the years, but it proved to be just as effective on her father is it had been on her. She watched with satisfaction as he slowly lowered the gun before returning it to his hip holster.
“Thank you,” she said in a softer tone. “I love you, Dad, and I appreciate you trying to take care of me, but I can take care of myself now. For now, I think it might be best if you took a little vacation and tried to sort through everything. You’ve been through hell too, and I don’t blame you for being angry with Larenz, but I hope you’ll also look at it from his point-of-view.”
Her father shook his head.
She pressed on, making her point. “He did what he thought was best to protect his family. If you had continued with your investigation, it would have broken up their entire family, and we both know someone else would have just stepped in to fill the void of power. They might have been even worse than the Moretti's.”
Philip’s mouth was a tight, straight line. “I can’t believe I’m hearing this from you. I raised you better than that.”
She let out a small sigh. “It isn’t easy for me either. I think I’ve come to realize that the world isn’t completely black-and-white. There’s no one who’s one hundred percent good or evil. Circumstances affect us all and shape the choices we make. I wouldn’t have voluntarily fallen in love with a mobster, but it happened, and I have to live with it, and so do you if you want to be part of our lives.”
Her father looked defeated as he turned and walked away. “I don’t understand this at all. I don’t feel like I know you anymore, Grace, but I’ll always love you. I just need some time.”
“I love you too.” She watched her father go before looking down at Larenz. “Will your people let him go without harming him?”
He didn’t answer as he reached for his cell phone and dialed a number. Larenz spoke quickly into the phone when the line picked up. “Let the old man pass through the estate without harm, but follow him and make sure he’s not planning something else. I want to have regular updates on his activities.” After hanging up, he looked at her. “They won’t lay a hand on him. But I’m keeping an eye on him.”
She let out a small sigh, brushing away a tear that tried to escape her eyes. “He seemed so broken.”
Larenz’s mouth was taut. “Yes, and I’m sorry for that. It’s my fault he’s in this state, and if I could have found another way, I would have used it.”
She nodded. “I meant it when I told him that I understand the world isn’t completely black-and-white. You had to protect your family, and though it was at the expense of mine, I understand your position. I still don’t like what you did, but I’m not sure what I would have done in similar circumstances either. I would have felt compelled to protect my family, and tonight I was torn between protecting you and protecting my father from himself.”
He looked hesitant when he asked, “Did you mean it, or were you just saying it to distract your father from his plan to shoot me?”
She didn’t have to ask what it was. “I meant it. I do love you, Larenz. I fell for you in Mexico, though I was pretty close, I think, to stopping anything I felt for you until tonight. Or maybe I was just fooling myself. I was so determined not to feel anything for you after the way you hurt me. Either way, this was not how I expected this night to go.”
He chuckled as he pulled her against him, arm around her shoulder as his other hand twined strands of her hair around his fingers. “A few hours ago, I was still denying my brothers’ accusations that I was in love with you, and here we are now, and I can’t seem to say it enough.”
She smiled at him. “I can’t seem to hear it enough, so feel free to say it again whenever you’d like.”
His expression was gentle, and his eyes were tender when he said, “I love you, Grace Moretti.”
“I love you too, Larenz Moretti.” She mimicked his tone before leaning forward and stretching her neck slightly to capture his mouth with hers. Her earlier exhaustion seemed to have abated, and it was clear she was going to need some unconventional sleep therapy to be able to fall asleep again. She was certain Larenz would have a few ideas on how to accomplish that.
Epilogue
Her father looked better, she noted through tired eyes. It had been more than a year since he had left the city, but thanks to Larenz’s detail reporting, she knew that he had settled in Cuba for a while. It had been a strange choice in her opinion, but whatever he’d been up to in Cuba, it was clearly agreeing with him. He was darkly tanned, a healthy weight, but his hair was still a shocking white against his dark skin.
“Hi, Dad.”
He stood awkwardly in the doorway of the hospital room. “I got your text.”
She nodded. “I was hoping you would. Would you like to see him?” The "him" in question was Jamison Philip Moretti, eight hours and thirteen minutes old. He was asleep in Larenz’s arms, and Larenz was also dozing in the armchair the hospital provided for partners of the mothers in labor.
Her father hung back, still looking uncertain. “I don’t want to wake him.”
“Which one?” she asked with a hint of teasing.
Her father smiled. “Neither one, I guess. I’m here for a while, so I’ll have plenty of time to hold the baby. How are you feeling?”
“Like a truck ran over me, and that’s an improvement over how I felt a couple of hours ago.” Bringing her son into the world without anesthetic had been a challenge, but she was happy to have accomplished it. Especially since halfway through the final stage, she’d been begging for an epidural. When her obstetrician had denied her request, she’d looked at Larenz and said with all seriousness, “Shoot her.”
Fortunately, Larenz had been far more sensible about the whole thing, promising to do it later, after Jamison was born. That had proved unnecessary, since she had returned to reality since then, but knew it was a memory she’d never forget.
She didn’t share the anecdote with her father, since he didn’t really need the reminder of Larenz’s criminal endeavors after more than a year of silence. He’d missed their wedding and all of the small and large events in between, but she had been hopeful that he would be drawn back into her life with the arrival of his first grandchild, and she had been right. When she had texted her father several hours ago that she was in labor, she had hoped that he would come. He must have been as eager to see the baby as she had hoped, because he had arrived much sooner than she had expected. “You must have had a frantic trip.”
He looked sheepish. “Actually, I’ve been staying at a hotel across the city for the last couple of weeks, waiting for you to go into labor. I wanted to be here for it, but I couldn’t cross that last hurdle until you sent me the news that the baby was coming. I can’t pretend that I understand or approve of the decisions you’ve made, but I really do love you, and I’m very proud of you.”
Tears came to her eyes, and she blinked rapidly in an attempt to dismiss them. “Thank you, Dad. I’m so happy to see you.”
Her father came over and bent down to give her an awkward hug. It was enough to m
ake her start to sob quietly, which roused Larenz.
He glared over at Philip, though with an infant in his arms he wasn’t nearly as intimidating as he usually appeared. “What have you done to upset her?”
Grace waved a hand, taking a moment to regain control of herself before she could speak. “Nothing. He’s just here, and I’m happy.”
He let out a sigh, shaking his head as he leaned back against the chair again, shifting the baby slightly. He looked at Philip carefully. “Do you want to hold him?”
Her father nodded stiffly as he moved around the bed to where Larenz sat. “If you’ll allow it,” he said gruffly.
Larenz’s tone was softer than she had expected when he replied. “I’ll never keep you from your daughter or your grandson. I wouldn’t do that to Grace, Jamison, or you.”
They shared a look, and though Grace couldn’t decipher it, both of their rigid postures relaxed slightly, and Larenz handed over the baby carefully. Her father cooed down at the child and began to walk around the room, clearly falling easily into the role of grandfather. She was certain that Jamison would need to feed soon, but she had a few moments with her husband as her father walked the baby around the room.
Grace twined her fingers with his, smiling when he squeezed gently. “I was afraid he wouldn’t come.”
“I know you were, but I was sure he’d show up.”
She frowned, eyeing him suspiciously. “Did you force my father to come here?”
He held up a hand. “Easy there, babe. I certainly didn’t. I was just positive he couldn’t ignore you, or Jamison. I’m done manipulating events and trying to force people to do what I want them to.”
She gave him a slightly skeptical look, but she accepted the kiss he pressed on her cheek without arguing. “You’ve turned over a new leaf, huh? When did that happen?”
“Probably sometime between that positive pregnancy test and Jamison being born. It was a gradual transition.”
She shook her head as she laughed softly. “Very gradual. I’ll believe it when I see it, but I’m willing to keep an open mind.”
He looked the picture of innocence. “That’s all I’ll ever ask, Grace. Just keep an open mind and give me a chance to prove myself.”
She rolled her eyes as she leaned forward to kiss him. “You already have.”
Sneak Peek: NEGOTIATION
Don’t miss the stories of Sophia’s half brothers Dante, Armo and Lorenz Moretti in NEGOTIATION, ACQUISITION, & MERGER. Available now at Amazon and on Kindle Unlimited (sneak peek of NEGOTIATION available below).
Lily Thompson has watched over her little brother most of her life, so when he gets in trouble with the mob, she approaches Dante Moretti about settling his debt. He isn’t interested in her first offer and negotiates with a counteroffer—one that has her in his bed and at his mercy.
She may be in over her head, but it’s her heart she has to worry about as she starts to warm up to the seemingly ruthless mobster, who finds her equally compelling. Can there be a happy ending for a Mafioso underboss and a sweet nurse, or is their negotiation destined to end in bullets and heartbreak?
Chapter 1
Lily struggled to hide her fear and a creeping anxiety as she stared up at the human wall in front of her. The bouncer was a bulging behemoth of muscle, but with an undersized head, only made more obvious by his lack of hair. “I insist on seeing Dante Moretti.”
He crossed his arms over his chest, and she couldn’t help realizing how barrel-like they were. “This is a private club, lady. Get the fuck out of here.”
She took a deep breath, reminding herself what was at stake, and smoothed a hand down her stomach in an attempt to calm the colony of butterflies taking flight there. “I’m aware that it’s a private club, but I have an invitation of sorts.”
He smirked at her. “Yeah? Let’s see it then.”
She licked her lips. “Well, I don’t have an actual invitation. I guess you could say that it’s more of a referral.”
He cocked his head slightly. “Yeah, really? Who referred you?”
“Shawn Thompson.”
His expression lost some of its sneer, and he reached for his cell phone, blindly stabbing at the screen but clearly knowing the number he was dialing. A moment later, he spoke into the device. “Boss, there’s some broad here you might want to see. Shawn Thompson sent her.”
After a moment’s conversation, the massive bouncer moved to the side to allow her access to the door. “Go on in and straight to the bar. Mr. Moretti will find you.”
She inclined her head. “Thank you.”
The bouncer laughed harshly. “I doubt you’ll be thanking me for long, Little Miss.” With those ominous words, he stepped up behind her, making it clear there was no backing out now.
Lily had been tempted to run, but she knew it wasn’t really an option. Licking her lips, she walked down the dim corridor until it opened into a large room. It was tastefully furnished with discreet illumination from an occasional overhead light, and there wasn’t a tacky disco ball in sight.
She spent a moment looking around; somehow unsurprised the clientele was almost exclusively men, aside from some strategically draped female arm candy. This place was bad news and was certainly no place for a nurse. She had the urge to turn and flee, but knew she couldn’t.
“You were supposed to go straight to the bar,” The timbre of the deep voice in her ear was rich and smoky, and sent chills down her spine.
Her nipples hardened in response to the sound of his words, she was in trouble already and she hadn’t even seen the man’s face. As she turned, she prayed that the man behind her would be old and ugly. “I’m sorry. I stopped to admire the place for a moment.”
Nope. Dante Moretti was neither old nor ugly, which made him even more irresistible. He was young, probably around thirty, and handsome, with black hair, brown eyes the color of whiskey, and scratchy stubble on his cheeks that made him look sexy and dangerous. She had a feeling he needed no help in the last department.
Moretti was clearly appraising her with equal interest, taking in her light-blonde hair, baby-blue eyes, and the general air of sweetness that she was certain she projected, especially when contrasted with this place. Under his scrutiny, she was suddenly painfully aware of her wardrobe. Maybe she should have changed out of her work slacks and button-down shirt, especially since she was now also self-consciously aware of the splotch of yellow paint at the hem of her shirt.
She licked her lips again, but abruptly stopped when she saw Dante Moretti’s gaze following the path of her tongue. It was a nervous habit, and certainly nothing she had ever cultivated to drive men wild. Not that she believed she had actually driven Dante Moretti wild with the harmless gesture. She was the girl-next-door type, not the sexpot type—which made her proposition all the more ridiculous, but what choice did she have? She had to try, or do, something.
“May I buy you a drink?”
She nodded, realizing she could use some liquid courage, along with something to lubricate her dry throat. She was surprised when he extended his arm in a chivalrous gesture, and she slipped her own through it cautiously. She walked beside him as he led her to the bar, and she started to climb on a stool, but his arm clamped tighter around hers, preventing her from moving away from him. She looked up at him questioningly.
“I have a feeling we’ll be talking in private.” He leaned closer, his voice lowered. “Besides, I don’t think I want to share you with anyone out here.”
Her stomach tightened with a mix of anxiety and apprehension, and perhaps a tinge of excitement. She knew why she was here, and she was encouraged that he found her attractive, but it was still scary.
After acquiring their drinks, something amber in a cut crystal glass for him, and an aromatically sweet white wine for her, he led her through swanky bar and down another corridor, this one also dimly lit like the entryway. He turned into a doorway on the left, pulling her inside before closing the door.
He
locked it with an ominous click before gesturing toward the arrangement of furniture in the large office. “Have a seat, mystery lady, and then you can tell me why you’re here, and what your connection is to Shawn Thompson.”
She was tempted to take the lone armchair, but that wouldn’t fit in well with her plans. She took a sip of the wine as she sat on the couch, surprised when he sat down on the leather beside her. He was close enough that she could feel the heat of his body seeping into hers, but far enough away that they were not quite touching. It was still an appropriate distance for strangers, but the air was fraught with the possibility that there wouldn’t be any distance between them for long. Or was she imagining it? Had she become practically hysterical with nerves and hint of arousal?
“My name is Lily, and Shawn is my brother.”
His expression tightened, going from flirtatious to cool. “So you’re related to that sack of shit?”
She frowned at him. “He’s not a sack of shit. He’s a young boy.”
Dante laughed, but it wasn’t a sound of amusement. “He’s over eighteen, right?”
She nodded. “He’s twenty.”
“He’s an adult and responsible for his actions. Your little brother stole from me.”
She blinked, her stomach fizzing with renewed anxiety. “That’s not what I heard.” She swallowed the lump in her throat, wondering if she had bitten off more than she could chew. Why hadn’t she had the forethought to doubt Shawn’s story? “He told me he lost a shipment. I’m not entirely sure what that means, but he told me he was in serious trouble.”
“He lost the shipment by diverting it to the Lithuanians with the help of his idiot girlfriend. He was entrusted with my guns and decided to sell them, but didn’t even have the common sense to get out of the city after ripping me off. I’ve dealt with the girlfriend, but your brother has gone to ground. And now he sent you here to face his punishment? I’d say he’s a huge sack of shit, Lily.”
