Daddies: A Mafia Billionaire Romance

by Shanna Handel

  Trembling, I crawl across the bed, lying between them, too exhausted to shower or put on clothes. The room is dark and just as we’re settling in, Jet gets up from the bed. I watch as he walks over to the closet across the room. Reaching his hand inside, he turns on the light, leaving the door open a few inches.

  Letting in just the right amount of light to dull my fears.

  He gives me a soft smile—one I’ve not seen before—as he crawls back into the bed beside me, sweetly kissing the top of my head as Liam’s arm slips around my waist. It’s a perfect moment, contentment easing into every inch of my being.

  But it’s just a moment. And forces beyond our control will not allow this union to last. As I drift off in their arms, I begin to wonder: what will our future hold?

  Chapter Eight

  The next day begins with a tour of the house. It takes over two hours to explore the building and the grounds. The front foyer is an incredible reception hall, twice as large and twice as fancy as the side entrance we came in the day before. Again, the ceiling soars up into a dome, this one painted with a mural of angels.

  The foyer leads into a Great Room with a gold gilded ceiling and access to brick terraces. When you step outside, you feel as if you’re floating in the clouds, the view of the blue mountain range spread out before you, the puffy white fluff whispering along their hazy peaks.

  The kitchen is massive and has appliances that look so complicated, I’m not sure I’d be able to use them, though there’s no need to, with the number of staff that are bustling through it all day. There’s always fresh coffee and pastries available in the breakfast nook, each meal is carefully prepared and elegantly served. Fresh towels and linens appear whenever we return to our room.

  Every one of our needs is met, almost before we know it ourselves.

  There are multiple fireplaces, several living rooms, and too many terraces to count. We go outside, exploring the stonewalled gardens, the grotto sanctuary, the reflecting pool. It’s a magical retreat with magnificent views.

  Being here, at this beautiful place with my two men, I haven’t a care in the world. Other than what Rockland’s going to do with me, of course. He’s told Liam and Jet that we’ll be here for at least two weeks, but I have no idea what happens after that.

  Reminding me of my plan—the plan I need to make—to ensure these men get back to their home.

  There’s only one answer. I need to speak with him in person.

  I’ve met Rockland once or twice. And each time, I’m left with shaking hands and weak knees. The man is intimidating, keeping himself from everyone with a cool distance. If you displease him, you can feel the anger radiate from his dark eyes straight into your soul.

  I tremble when I think what he might do to me. But I made this mess and I’ll clean it up. I just need an opportunity.

  But over the next few days, my daddies become bookends, guarding me, one on each side.

  When they aren’t working their new jobs—I get the feeling they’re setting up security for the Mountain like they have at the Village—they’ve decided to take this time away as a much-needed vacation. Over the next two weeks, each day we plan to do something different, and thanks to the staff, I have an appropriate outfit for each event.

  They take me to the Biltmore for wine tasting. The grand castle sits nestled in the mountains. It’s massive, at almost twenty thousand square feet, on over eight thousand acres of private land. We sit on a stone terrace, overlooking the castle and the scenery, sipping whites and reds, each one paired with a different delicious treat. Afterwards, feeling a little tipsy, we receive a private tour of the home.

  As a writer, my favorite of the two hundred and fifty rooms was George Vanderbilt’s two-story library; there’s nothing that warms my soul more than a room full of books. They are more than just stories to me; they are a comfort, an escape.

  My parents died in that car crash when I was in my early teens, the one that still has me unable to sleep in the dark. I went to live with my elderly grandparents. Their house was quiet, unlike my joyful one, my mother often singing as she walked about, my father telling silly jokes. I missed my parents. My grandparents were kind, but I was lonely, and I drowned my grief in books, Gremlin curled up by my side.

  And so, I find much joy gazing over the perfectly stored leather spines of George Vanderbilt’s quarter of a million books. Shelves as high as the eye can see, surrounding me with their beauty and warmth.

  The wine makes my eyelids heavy and, on the way back to Archer, I find myself falling asleep in the back of a black Escalade, snuggled between Papa and Daddy.

  We spend a day exploring the town of Archerville. The bohemian in my heart falls in love with the punk rock meets quaint as can be vibe. We eat at cafés and shop in boutiques, and the employees are kind and courteous. Papa and Daddy both pick out little presents for me. A turquoise bracelet, a tiny turtle carved from jade, a flowing brightly colored skirt.

  Everyone’s friendly, but we get a few curious stares, the three of us. I’m easy with my affections, often holding both their hands at once, giving them a thank you kiss on the cheek every so often to show my appreciation for this wonderful time.

  My favorite meal is the night we eat at a rooftop bar that overlooks the city. The view is incredible, the city streets being hugged by the misty mountains. I sip sparkling wine, dine on hummus and pita in the chilly evening air, all while being warmed by a gas-lit fire pit.

  We hike on the Mountain, exploring the family’s trails that follow a river. Low, smooth rocks jut out from different parts of the river, and we climb them, sliding down and splashing our bare feet into the shallow parts of the water. We come across hidden waterfalls so picturesque, my serious daddy stops to take pictures of us beside them, his long arm extended to get all three of us in the frame.

  The two weeks fly by and the last day before the Duets return from their ski trip, Liam and Jet take me to a place called Blowing Rock. Liam tells me to bring a scarf, but he doesn’t tell me why. We hike to the top, and there’s a pointy rock jutting out from the peak.

  Liam tugs on the end of my scarf. “Go ahead, throw it over.”

  I clutch the soft fuchsia material. “But I love this one. You bought it for me at that cute shop.”

  He smiles, urging me, “Go ahead.”

  Trusting him, I take the scarf from my hand, tossing it over the side of the rock. Wonder fills me while I watch, wide-eyed, as the scarf blows back up in the air. Liam catches it in his hand, giving it back to me with a grin.

  Jet, who’s been focused on instilling me with history lessons every part of the trip, says, “The legend of the Blowing Rock is that a Cherokee brave leapt from the rock into the wilderness below, only to have a gust of wind return him to his lover on top of the rock.”

  “How romantic,” I say, winding my scarf around my neck. But the legend, the story of a lover in danger, reminds me of our current situation. Our two weeks is up. “Have you heard from Rockland yet?”

  Jet wraps his arms around me, placing a reassuring kiss on the top of my head. “I’ve heard from him, but not about you. He’s pleased with the security I’ve added to the Mountain, with how Liam and I have done our work up here. Everything will be fine. I promise.”

  “We won’t let anything happen to you, sweet girl.” Liam comes up behind me, gently brushing my hair from my face and kissing the back of my neck.

  I don’t tell them that it’s not me I’m worried for. What if Rockland leaves them here indefinitely?

  The following day, the Duets are scheduled to return from their trip. I’m nervous but excited to meet them. After so many curious eyes on us, I’m hoping it’s refreshing to spend some time with other threesomes like us.

  That evening, I’m not disappointed. There’s a ball, something they do often here at Archer. We all dress up, me in a long strapless black dress with a deep v neckline. When we arrive, I find the room filled, little clusters of three everywhere.

  The
ratio of two men to one woman looks so natural here in the ballroom at this private estate. We breeze by groups, Jet and Liam giving a nod in greeting when they see someone they know. Strangely, I don’t know a soul here, other than my own Duet, and yet, I feel completely at home.

  We dine, we dance, the champagne flows as plentiful as the water down the mountainside.

  At the end of the evening, my feet are tired from twirling and my cheeks are sore from smiling. I’ve never been this happy. My joy makes me almost forget my dangerous mission.

  As I stand in the corner, stewing, scheming up some kind of plan to communicate with Rockland, I receive a pleasant surprise.

  Jet comes up to me, his shoulders relaxed, a smile on his face. “I’ve got good news.”

  “What is it?”

  “Rockland’s been called to the Parrish. There’s some issues there he’s got to take care of, and Tess wants to stay awhile to visit with some of the Beauties. He and Tess will be there for weeks, maybe even months.”

  “And he’s forgotten about me?” Hope fills my heart.

  He shakes his head, a bit of the tension returning to his shoulders. “No, but it looks like one sassy redhead has been moved to the bottom of his to-do list. And he wants me and Liam to continue improving security here.”

  Papa comes up to us, swinging an arm around my shoulders. “Have you heard the good news? Our vacation’s been extended.” He gives me an easy smile.

  A few weeks and possibly months to live in this dream world, in the arms of my men? Nothing could make me happier.

  The days go by in a blissful blur, my only complaint being morning turning to evening too quickly and time is moving too fast. We spend time out of doors, exploring nature, or traveling to nearby towns with other Duets. And each evening boasts a dressy dinner, complete with three courses and candlelight.

  We talk and we laugh—even Jet manages a few chuckles.

  Having hacked my cell and computer, they know everything there is to know about me, but I have a lot to learn about them. Growing closer to them every day, I find that Jet falls asleep the second his head hits the pillow, whereas Liam lies on his back, his hands folded underneath his head, staring at the ceiling forever before finally nodding off.

  Jet despises picky eaters but every time he puts a green vegetable in his mouth, his nose wrinkles. He’s strong and loyal, not letting me say one bad word about Rockland even though we’re in this mess. He’s highly intelligent and got the job as an FBI agent right out of college. He’s one of the most serious people I’ve met, yet he always laughs at a knock-knock joke—the cornier the better.

  His mom is Japanese, his father Native American. His parents met at his father’s casino, his mother being an avid gambler. With his high cheekbones and blue-black hair, he’s a mix of his mother and father. He said neither culture knew quite what to make of him and that was one thing that drew him to the Brotherhood—unity in diversity.

  He loves to meet people from different places and would like to travel the world one day, me and Liam by his side.

  When I’m with him, I try to make him smile. He makes me a better, stronger person.

  Liam can play the guitar and sing, but would have never told me. I caught him one day in the library, lightly strumming the strings and singing quietly to himself.

  He also has this strange ticklish spot behind his left earlobe. When I touch it I can get him to do just about anything.

  That’s how I got him to sing to me that day.

  Tears welled up in my eyes and my throat got all tight... the song he was singing was one he had written for me.

  He hates sweets, and loves to run. He can beat any one of the men here to the top of the Mountain in a race, not even having to rest to catch his breath afterwards.

  His little brother died when he was three. An accident that haunted his family. The grief was the cause of his father’s drinking, and so Liam forgave his father’s indifference to the family.

  He got his first job when he was thirteen, hauling wood beams at a construction site. Every penny he made went to his mother to feed the family. He was often hungry and can’t tolerate wasting food.

  When I’m dining with him, I always eat every bite of food from my plate.

  He makes me a more caring, gentler person.

  The weeks turn to months. I’m so enamored with my men, Rockland and his wrath are almost forgotten about.

  But tonight, as we’re dining, we hear that Rockland and Tess are back in town.

  Sitting at the table, my hands clench together in my lap; I must speak with him before he can make a decision. Plead my case and get Liam and Jet back to the Village.

  I have no way of contacting the outside world. Can I bribe a staff member to send a message? Steal one of the black Escalades? None of those plans seem doable—or fast enough.

  As we’re leaving the dining room, there’s the sound of a shout. A man crosses the room, grabbing Jet’s arm. He whispers a few words, then leaves us, picking out other men in the crowd and doing the same.

  “We’ve got a security breach.” Jet looks to Liam. “Get her to the room. I’ll take care of this.”

  Liam gives a nod. My stomach ties in knots with worry. People are being escorted from the ballroom with haste. There’s some confusion, chaos, as everyone makes their way back to their rooms.

  I’m scared, terrified Jet will be hurt, or that something terrible is happening. But then I see it; a gift from the gods, or a stroke of luck, a hand dealt by fate. A forgotten cell phone, left out on an empty chair.

  No one is looking. I retrieve the phone, slipping it into my small beaded evening bag. It weighs almost nothing but it feels heavy against my hip.

  Jet takes off toward the foyer. Liam wraps his arm around me. “Come on. Let’s get you upstairs.”

  “What’s happening? Where’s Jet going?”

  He heaves a sigh. “It’s no use trying to keep it from you any longer. Especially now that we’ll be here a few more weeks. We were sent here, with you, because there’s a rival mafia, one based in Italy, run by a man named Vincent Russo. He’s an American, born near here. When he found out about the Mountain, he got curious about our family. He’s had spies keeping an eye on the property. Rockland’s seen them as a threat for a while now, but there’s no evidence that they mean harm. Jet thinks they want to collaborate, but until he’s sure, he’s not letting them step foot on the property.”

  “They were the men in the Escalades, that first day we arrived?”

  “Yes.”

  “And when I wrote the article, and Rockland wanted me out of his city, he figured you could bring me here and work on tightening up the security?”

  “Yes.”

  “Why didn’t Jet want me to know what he was doing? You were both so secretive about your jobs here.”

  “The less you know, the safer you are. And let’s be honest, you tend to fish for more information than the average woman.”

  “Fair enough.” We reach the top of the stairs.

  Thinking of the phone, I need to get away from Liam for enough time to hide it in my room. Feigning a yawn, I say, “I think I’m ready to call it a night.”

  How will I find time to call Rockland? What will I say? And what will my daddies do to me if they find out?

  I give a little shudder just thinking of the disapproval on their faces. Of Daddy’s belt. Of Papa’s rough hands.

  But it must be done. So that my mistakes can be undone. So that they can go back to the life they wanted, the one they dreamed of.

  Before they were tasked with stopping me.

  We enter the room and I quickly bury my purse in the bottom of my wardrobe. But Liam makes no move to leave. Instead, he undresses down to his black boxers and slides into the bed.

  There’s no way I’ll be able to call Rockland now; I’ll have to wait until morning.

  Changing into pajamas, I climb in beside him. His arm around me, he falls asleep. Jet enters the room much later. He
too falls asleep quickly, but I’m left lost in my thoughts, my planning.

  In the morning, the daddies surprise me with an opportunity. They’ve decided they want to take a run together—race one another over the trail to burn off a little stress. I assure them I’ll be fine alone, that I’d love the extra sleep.

  They’ve never left me alone and they seem apprehensive. I feign a huge yawn, snuggling back under the covers.

  After all, loving two men at once can be exhausting.

  When I’m sure they’re gone, I rush from the bed, digging the purse from the bottom of the wardrobe. Sitting with my back against the wall, I fish the phone out of the bag, throwing the purse to the side.

  Holding a cell phone after being without one for all this time is strange. The screen is black; I hope the battery isn’t dead. Holding my breath, I click the power button over to on.

  The screen lights up.

  Now how on Earth am I going to figure out his number? It’s not like you can look up the Bachmans in the White Pages. I scroll through the contacts, and I can’t believe my luck.

  There it is, right before my eyes: Rockland Bachman.

  So cute how such a big, scary man has a name that rhymes. My fingertip hovers over the call button. “What do I say?”

  Hi there, Mr. Mafia Mastermind. Mind if you just forgive me for writing an article exposing your family’s kinky ways and let my men move home? It wasn’t their fault and they really, really want to come back to the Village. Don’t vote them off the island because of little ole me. Pretty please with a cherry on top?

  It’s no use. There’s no plan I can make up. I just have to call, apologize, and hope for the best.

  My stomach flip-flops, sweat beading under my arms. Silently I count to three, then hit Call.

  The usual ringing sound you hear when you place a call doesn’t come through. Instead, there’s a crackling, like a dispatcher radio, then a loud beep.

  The sound startles me and the phone drops from my hand. “Shit!”

  I pick it up, but there’s no sound. No one is on the other end of the line. I slide the phone back into my purse, returning the bag to the bottom of the wardrobe. Disappointment gathers thick in my throat.