The Dictator

by Penelope Sky

  When I came home from the office, I had dinner alone in the dining room then made my way upstairs. Siena was in my living room, so I went into the shower right away and didn’t greet her at all. After I showered, I pulled on a pair of boxers then stepped into the living room.

  She was watching TV, wearing one of my t-shirts and a pair of white socks.

  I knew she was mad at me, but I couldn’t stop myself from thinking she looked cute. “Baby.”

  She looked at me over her shoulder but didn’t flash me that pretty smile. “You’re home late.”

  “I had a lot to do.” I had branches all over the world, so I had to delegate tasks constantly. Bates and I crunched numbers more than anything else. Threatening people to pay us back was actually a very small part of our job. I moved to the spot beside her and noticed the gift bag with tissue paper on the table.

  That must have been for me.

  She grabbed the remote and turned off the TV. “I wanted to give this to you…” She grabbed the bag then handed it to me. “It’s not for any special occasion or anything… I had Giovanni go out and get it for me.”

  I held the bag but considered not opening it. It annoyed me when she did nice things for me, although I had no idea why. I guess I wanted to be the one to do everything. “Then what is it for?”

  “I thought we could hang it up. Just open it.”

  I finally reached my hand inside and pulled out something solid. It was flat and long, not heavy at all. I pulled the tissue paper off then looked at the picture frame. Inside was the picture of the sonogram. Siena had added the date in pink writing, along with the words “Baby Girl Marino.” I stared at it and didn’t know what to say.

  “I thought we could hang it up in here. You know…since we don’t have any paintings.”

  I kept staring at the picture of my daughter, when she was so small we had no idea if she was a he or a she. Now she’d grown so big, made such a bulge in Siena’s belly that her presence was undeniable.

  “We don’t have to put it up if you don’t want to,” she said quietly. “I just thought—”

  “I love it.” Once again, Siena showed me how valuable things could be, especially when they were free. This gift meant more to me than anything she could have bought me. It meant more to me than anything I’d ever bought myself. It was thoughtful, meaningful, and it reminded me how big Siena’s heart was. I hoped our daughter inherited all her good qualities—and very little of my own. “Thank you.”

  “Do you really like it?” she asked, finally smiling.

  “I do.” I looked at her and gave her a smile. “And I want to hang it up. I want to look at it every day.”

  “Me too. I looked at it every day I was gone.”

  “So, she can have my last name?”

  “I figured I didn’t have a choice in the matter…”

  “We could hyphenate.” If we would never be married, it didn’t seem fair that Siena didn’t have any presence in the name.

  “Really?” she asked.

  “Yeah. Russo-Marino.”

  She nodded. “I’ll take that.” She took the picture frame from my hands and admired it. “I’m so excited to meet her. I really hope she has your eyes. I remember the first time I saw them…I thought I’d never seen anything more beautiful.”

  “Really?” I asked. “I thought the same thing about you.”

  She lifted her gaze from the picture and smiled at me. “Do you have any first names in mind?”

  “No. I haven’t even thought about it.”

  “I have a few. Do you want to hear?”

  “Sure.”

  “Martina. It goes well with your last name. Martina Marino.”

  I didn’t know anyone with that name, and I liked how sophisticated it sounded. My daughter wouldn’t be just anyone. She would be the daughter of the richest man in Italy. With a powerful father, she needed a powerful name. Martina Marino. “I like it. I really like it.”

  “That was easy,” she said with a chuckle. “I thought you would reject all my ideas.”

  “Martina…I think that’s her name.”

  “You don’t even want to hear the others?”

  “No.” I was already settled on it.

  “Alright…Martina, it is.” She set the picture down on the table then placed her hand on my thigh. In her baggy shirt, her belly wasn’t visible, but she still had that glow in her face that couldn’t be ignored. “That’s our daughter.” She rose to her feet then subtly pushed me back against the couch.

  I knew what was coming, so I got hard instantly. Her hormones made her horny, but her pregnancy had the exact same effect on me. My back hit the cushion, and I pushed my boxers to my knees so my cock had all the room it needed.

  She slid her panties down her long legs then straddled me. She left her shirt on, which was a turn-off because it didn’t hug her figure at all.

  I pulled it up.

  She pushed it down again. “Not like this…”

  I gripped the cotton tight and shot her a venomous expression. I wasn’t gonna fuck this woman while a wall separated us. I wanted to see those tits, that beautiful skin, and that belly I couldn’t get enough of. “This shirt is coming off—whether you like it or not.” I pulled it over her head and took in her beautiful figure. Her belly was sexy and her skin glowed. She didn’t have a damn thing to be insecure about. “You’re beautiful.” I grabbed her hips and directed her toward me so I could slide my shaft deep inside that slit I was obsessed with.

  She pressed her hand against my chest to halt my movements. “Cato…please tell me why you don’t celebrate your birthday. You don’t even have to tell me when it is. I just want to know why.”

  She slowed down sex to talk. I didn’t love that. “Why?”

  “Because I care about you.” She moved her hand over my heart. “And I want to know you. I want to know the good stuff as well as the bad.”

  I was surprised I was even considering telling her this. I hadn’t talked about it since the night it happened. My brother and mother immediately understood my feelings because they’d been there. Every year when my birthday came around, it seemed to be a moment of mourning rather than celebration. “It was the day my father walked out on my mother.”

  Emotion that she couldn’t fake moved into her gaze. The moisture flooded her eyes so quickly, it seemed miraculous she could feel so much so quickly. But her heart seemed to beat for me, and it felt like she really did care about me. She liked me for the man I was, not the wallet in my back pocket. “Thank you for telling me.”

  I pulled her closer against me and moved my hand into her hair. “Now fuck me, baby.”

  23

  Siena

  Cato was always awake hours before I was. I was wrapped in his warm sheets when he got up and hit the gym for two hours. I was so comfortable that when he returned and hopped in the shower, I still didn’t crack open an eye.

  The only reason I finally got out of bed that morning was because a nausea attack hit me. They’d become less frequent, but I still got them at least once a week. As I left the bed and walked to the toilet, I put my hair in a bun automatically since I’d done this procedure so many times. I reached the toilet and let everything out before I flushed.

  Cato came out of the shower with the towel wrapped around his waist. “Baby, are you alright?”

  “Yeah. This is a normal part of my life now.” I moved to the sink and washed my face and rinsed out my mouth. “But I do resent you because it’s entirely your fault.”

  “My fault, huh?” He stood behind me and looked at me in the mirror. “I guess I can take the blame, especially when I don’t feel sorry about what I did.” He tugged on the sleeve of my shirt to expose my shoulder. He placed a soft kiss there, the whiskers from his beard rough against my body.

  I watched him walk away in the reflection and finish getting ready.

  I brushed my teeth in the sink then pulled my hair loose from the hair tie. Now that I didn’t have a jo
b, I had nothing to do with my time other than think about giving birth to Martina. Childbirth was one of the most painful things a human could ever experience, and I wasn’t looking forward to it. I’d rather have Damien shoot me in the shoulder again.

  I returned to the bedroom and watched him put his suit together. “Any exciting plans for work?”

  “I’m going out tonight with a few clients.”

  “Like to dinner?”

  “No. A bar.”

  I raised an eyebrow. “You’re going to a bar for work?”

  “A lot of my criminal partners prefer to avoid the office. Too public, especially when the sun is out. It’s not unusual.”

  Whenever I saw Cato in a bar, women threw their asses in his face. They stuck their tongues down his throat and helped themselves to his lap. The idea of Cato returning to that atmosphere made me feel nauseated again. “Will Bates be there?”

  “Yes.”

  That made it worse.

  He sat in the armchair and finished tying his shoes. “What is it, baby?”

  “I’m not thrilled about you doing business in a bar.”

  He tied the other shoe then rose to his full height. “Why?”

  “Uh, because I’ve seen women hump you right in the middle of the room.”

  “So?” he asked. “I humped them too.”

  My eyes flashed with rage. “You aren’t helping.”

  “I don’t know what you expect me to say. I’m meeting my clients for drinks, and there’s nothing I can do to change that. Yes, there will be women there. And yes, they’ll probably try to sit on my lap. I could go to a bowling alley, and that would still happen.” He walked to the dresser and grabbed his watch and wallet. “I’m going to be out late, so I’ll probably just sleep at my place in Florence.”

  The place where he took me to fuck me the first time. I remembered the beautiful woman lying beside me with no opposition to a threesome. So now he would spend the evening at a bar and not bother coming home. “Is this a joke?”

  “You aren’t laughing, so I don’t think so.”

  There was so much back-and-forth with Cato. One moment, he was sensitive and loving, and then the next moment, he was incredulous of my feelings. “How would you feel if I went to a bar to meet an art client and said I wouldn’t be coming home.”

  “You’re pregnant, so I would say you’re a terrible mother.”

  I smacked his arm. “I’m being serious.”

  “What do you want me to say?” he snapped. “This is happening, and there’s nothing I can do about it.”

  “You’re Cato Marino. You could do anything you wanted to.” Playing to his ego was the best way to manipulate him. Like all powerful men, it was his downfall.

  But he didn’t take the bait. “For two months, I had every opportunity to fuck as much pussy as I wanted. Instead, I drank in my office and stared at your pictures. Now that I have you back, you think I’m gonna fuck a woman in a bathroom stall at a bar?”

  My jealousy clouded my judgment until I couldn’t think straight. “I know how women are with you. I’ve seen it with my own eyes. No offense, but I don’t want to be home alone wondering if they’re trying to get into your lap. I’ve seen women sit on your lap and let their dresses slide all the way to their waists to flash everyone in the bar. And most of them weren’t wearing underwear.”

  He adjusted his watch on his wrist as he looked at me. “I’m not ashamed of my life before you. If you’re waiting for an apology, you won’t get one. I enjoyed every second of that period of my life—until I found something better.”

  As touching as it was, it wasn’t enough for me. “Then come home.”

  “It’ll probably be three in the morning.”

  “I don’t care.”

  He slid his hands into his pockets and shook his head. “I’m surprised you don’t trust me.”

  “It’s not about trust. It just makes me jealous picturing you out at a bar…with those women fighting for your attention. If this situation were reversed, you wouldn’t be okay with it.”

  “Completely different situations.”

  “Because I’m a woman?” I asked incredulously.

  “Exactly.” He turned away from me and headed to the door. “I’ll call you when I get to my place in Florence tonight.”

  I followed behind him. “Couldn’t I just come with you?”

  He stopped and turned around. “Come with me?”

  “Why not?”

  His eyes darted back and forth as he looked into mine. “You want to come to work with me today, and then stay out until two in the morning listening to me talk about business, all so you can keep an eye on me?”

  “I’m not keeping an eye on you,” I snapped. “I just want to keep those gold-digging skanks off my man.”

  The second I used the possessive phrase, his eyes narrowed farther and his eyebrows rose. He held my gaze for a long time, still digesting the statement. A second later, approval entered his gaze. “Your man?”

  “Yes.” He was the man I slept with every night and the father of my child. To say I was possessive of him was an understatement. Even if Cato turned down all their offers, I didn’t want them to have the opportunity to make a pass to begin with.

  “Then let’s go.”

  I recognized the building because I’d seen him walk into it several times. When I had been gleaning as much information as possible, I’d followed him to various locations to determine his schedule. It was interesting to actually walk inside when I’d only stared at the front doors.

  The second Cato was in the building, everyone waited on him hand and foot. The secretaries all greeted him with a smile and over-the-top enthusiasm, and the other employees inside the bank went out of their way to say hello and compliment his tie or his watch.

  We moved to the top floor, which seemed to be a restricted area just for Cato. It was two enormous offices along with two assistants. Cato checked in with one of them, received his messages, and then introduced me. “Shelly, this is Siena.” Then he headed to his office.

  Siena? That was it? I didn’t consider myself to be his girlfriend or his wife, but I felt like I was more than just my first name. I followed behind him and entered his office. “That’s it? I’m Siena?”

  He sat behind his desk and got to work, hardly looking at me. “She already knows who you are.”

  “Which is?”

  “The woman I’m fucking.”

  And that was it? “Does she know we’re expecting?”

  “She has eyes, doesn’t she?” He grabbed his laptop and typed in a few passwords before he finally accessed it. “I have a lot of work to do, so no more talking.”

  I raised an eyebrow.

  He didn’t need to look at me to know I looked pissed. “You wanted to come, Siena. I told you I couldn’t entertain you.” He stared at his screen and then his fingers hit the keyboard fast. He was typing at lightning speed, better than a typist. Then he flipped through his stack of folders and made notes.

  So this was what a billionaire did all day?

  The door burst open, and Bates walked inside. “I’ve got another live one—” He halted when he saw me, and his horrified expression quickly turned into a livid one. His eyes burst with rage, and it seemed like he might strangle me right then and there.

  Cato looked up from his work and examined his brother. “You were saying?”

  He couldn’t take his eyes off me. “What the fuck is she doing here?”

  Cato quickly matched his hostility. “Shut the door if you’re going to act like a maniac.”

  He slammed it shut and then spoke louder. “What the fuck is she doing here?”

  “She wanted to come,” Cato said. “We have that meeting tonight, and she wanted to be the woman on my arm. You know, bug repellent. Apparently, I have a jealous woman on my hands.” He tried to stop the corner of his mouth from rising in a smile, but it was too hard to ignore.

  “Or a bitch that’s just trying to learn
everything she can. I told you what she was after, and you still don’t believe me.”

  Cato rose to his feet. “Enough with the bitch bombs, alright? And no, that’s not what she’s doing.”

  “Really?” he snapped. “Open your damn eyes. She saw an opportunity and took it. I used to think you were the smartest guy I’ve ever known, but now that I’ve seen how far you’ve fallen, I don’t even know you anymore. This business is everything to us—and you’re throwing it away for her.” He walked out and slammed the door again.

  Cato stared at the closed door for several seconds before he sighed.

  I didn’t realize how much my presence would ruin Cato’s day. “I’m sorry…I should have stayed home.”

  “No.” He looked back at his computer. “He’s just unhinged. Don’t worry about him.”

  I’d seen the progression of their relationship, from their strong alliance to their broken friendship. Now they were falling apart right in front of my eyes. Cato had few family members, and the last thing I wanted him to do was lose another. “I have an idea.” I rose from the chair and walked to the desk.

  “Yes?” He leaned back in his chair and looked at me.

  “If Bates is that concerned about me plotting to take your business, then let’s give him some reassurance.”

  “And how do you propose we do that?”

  “Legal paperwork.” I’d never done anything like this before, but I assumed it existed. “We meet with a lawyer and draft up a contract stating that I will never have any ownership claim to this company. Even if we married and you died, your share of the company would return to Bates or would be passed down to the baby. We can indicate in every way imaginable that there’s no possibility I can ever get my hands on it.” If that was what Bates needed to sleep well at night, it was fine by me.

  Cato stared at me incredulously, as if he couldn’t believe what I’d just said. Seconds passed and he didn’t blink. All he did was look at me, his hands coming together in front of his chest. He repositioned his legs under the desk and shifted in his chair. “You would do that?”