Page 24 of Deceptive Desires (The Syndicate #2)

Roman

We finished eating a while ago. So long ago, our dishes have already been bussed. But we’re not in a rush to leave.

I don’t think she’s even noticed how long we’ve been here or even the disappearance of our plates, because she’s been so caught up in the conversation.

I’ve been enthralled too, but not so much that I forget my basic instincts to always be vigilant and aware. She’s too oblivious, she has no caution. But that’s okay. I’ll watch over her.

“So, what do you do?” she asks curiously.

“I work in security. My brothers and I own and run Syndicate Enterprise. It’s a private security and defense company.

” The lie rolls off my tongue effortlessly even though it’s not one I have to use often.

I’m not typically in a position where I’m giving my job title.

The people I deal with already know who I am and what I do.

“Oh wow! That’s really impressive. It explains your build.” She blushes as though she didn’t mean for it to slip out. “I’m sorry. The wine is getting to my head. I just mean you’re strong. You can carry me around easily. You have a nice, strong build.”

So, she likes my build. That’ll be my motivation at the gym this week.

I chuckle at her. She’s adorable trying to backpedal, but I heard the compliment, and I’m not forgetting it.

“I keep in shape to do my job. I’m more hands-on than my brothers.” It’s not a lie, more of a misdirection.

“I can’t believe you really are a hero in real life!” she fawns, and I try not to choke on my wine.

I can’t believe this na?ve woman thinks I’m a hero. She’s so wrong, it’s absurd. But I won’t correct her. Because to her, I’ll be her hero. While for her, I’ll be a villain. I think of Leo and tighten my grip. To everyone else, I’ll be a monster. The monster all the monsters fear.

“It’s what I do,” I say grimly, then change the topic. “What do you do?” I ask despite knowing the answer.

“I’m a PT tech at a physical therapy clinic.” The way she draws it out and takes a sip of wine tells me something I didn’t know.

“But you don’t like it?” I confirm.

“It’s not that I don’t like it. It’s just not my dream. It’s not fulfilling,” she says it with such conviction.

“You say it so decisively. What is your dream?” I tense, needing to know now.

She blushes and looks down, unsure. After a moment, she murmurs something under her breath, straightens her spine, and tells me something that changes me forever.

“My dream is being a mother. It’s my life’s purpose.

I know I brushed up on it. And I know not everyone finds the honor in it.

It’s outdated to some. But all I want is to be a mom.

I want to have a house full of kids, full of love.

I’d leave whatever job I have and focus on raising them while my husband works,” she says it softly, but I hear the truth in her words.

I can’t breathe. All I can see is a house full of children that look like her… and me. Our children. Running around. Her at home, waiting for me, love and adoration in her eyes.

It’s a future I want so badly, I vow to have it… no matter the cost.

“You’ll be an amazing mother. There’s so much honor in being a stay-at-home mom. They sacrifice so much for their children. I would never expect it of my wife, but I’d be grateful if that’s what she chooses to do,” I explain.

“You do? You really think it’s honorable and not lazy or outdated?” Her eyes fill with hope that I’m telling the truth, so I confide in her.

“My mom was a stay-at-home mom. She took care of us while my dad worked. She sacrificed so much to do so. I’m forever grateful to her for it,” I reveal.

“She sounds like an amazing woman,” Cecilia says with awe, and I’m pleased.

“She is. She’ll love you.” It comes out before I can think better. Bringing her home to Mom isn’t really a first date topic, even if I know it’ll happen eventually.

“I’d love to meet her,” she says with a smile.

“Mamá had to work. She immigrated here from Ecuador when she was eighteen. She was all on her own when she moved. Her parents didn’t come.

She worked to survive. Papá moved here when he was two.

His mom, my Abuela, brought him over. When he met Mamá, he was instantly in love.

They married young and worked hard to provide for my sisters and me. ”

“That’s a beautiful love story. The sacrifices they made to ensure a good future for you guys is inspiring,” I say truthfully. She gets her strength from her parents. “How many sisters do you have?”

“I have an older sister, Carmen, and a younger sister, Valentina. Carmen is married to an amazing man, and they have a daughter. My parents and Abuela live with them in Worcester. I’m here, doing my thing.

Val wanders around. She’s in Worcester too but moved out.

She’s the wild one,” she smiles fondly. “What about you? Any siblings?”

“We’re the opposite. All boys, four of us.

We all live in Boston. My eldest brother is Dominic, then Matthias, then me, then the baby is Sebastian.

We all work for the Syndicate… Enterprise.

” I catch myself just in time. “My parents also live in Boston. We’re close.

We even have family dinner every Sunday.

Oh, and there’s Margot. She’s Matthias’s fiancée. She’s like a sister to me.”

“That sounds lovely. I’m sure having them close by is nice. I miss my family sometimes, and without a car, I can’t see them as often as I’d like,” she sighs.

I vow to bring her to my family. They’ll love her. And they’ll be her family too soon enough.

Although, I’m going to have to find a way to convince this sweet, na?ve girl that we’re all legal businessmen.

I open my mouth to answer but am cut off by a cough.

I turn and see the restaurant manager at our table.

“Excuse me, but I wanted to let you know, the restaurant is closing for the evening. Would you mind paying and letting us close, sir? I’m sorry for the inconvenience.” He gulps and trembles, not making eye contact.

I look up and see the rest of the wait staff off to the side, eyeing us cautiously. It’s obvious I intimidate them.

I also make note that the restaurant is empty of customers. I check my watch and see they closed twenty minutes ago.

“The apology is ours. We lost track of time.” I pull out a few hundreds from my wallet and leave them on the table. “Keep the tip as an apology.”

I pull out Cecilia’s chair and help her up. When I look down, I see her staring at the wad of cash on the table with her mouth agape, and I realize my mistake.

Most businessmen don’t carry hundreds around and tip more than two hundred percent.

Shit.

Well, nothing I can do about it now.

We continue chatting on the drive to her apartment. Once we park, I make my way around the car and open the door for her, as I’ve done all night. My mother did raise me to be a gentleman, even if I haven’t ever used those manners. Cecilia deserves the best.

I open her apartment door and follow her up.

“Oh, you don’t have to walk me in,” she says when she realizes what I’m doing.

“Sunshine, in this apartment on this side of town, I’m always making sure you make it into your unit. For safety, and because I was raised right.” It comes out teasingly, but little does she know how serious I am. I will always protect her.

When we get to her door, she invites me in. She’s timid about it, and not for the first time, I wonder how experienced she is with men.

A woman who looks like her, who is her, an absolute goddess of a woman, has to have had hundreds of men lining up for her.

But not anymore. No other man will ever have her again.

“No, sunshine. I’m just walking you to your door.” I turn down her offer, because if I enter that apartment, I’m not going to be able to hold myself back. And I want to take this slowly. I want to win her over before I get the prize that is her body. I need her trust first.

I lean down to kiss her cheek, but she turns at the last minute and captures my lips with hers.

The unexpected contact has me warring with my resolve. Would it really be so bad to be with her?

I kiss her back gently, despite every fiber of my being screaming to take control. She’s a delicate flower, and I won’t ruin her.

When I’m on the verge of coming in my pants… again… I pull back.

It’s mortifying enough that I did so at the club for the first time since I was a teenager. I can’t make it a habit.

We separate, and she opens her door.

“Buenas noches, mi héroe,” she says dazed.

Her blown pupils, flushed skin, and rapid breathing give away her arousal. I have to take a step back, needing the space to restrain myself.

“Buenas noches, sunshine,” I repeat back, competent enough to know it means goodnight.

She giggles as I butcher her parent’s language.

She shuts the door, but I stare at it a little longer, wondering if I could break in to watch her sleep again.

Realizing I don’t know her or Gracie’s sleep schedule, I sigh and leave.

But it doesn’t matter.

Soon enough, we’ll be going to sleep in the same bed every night. In my bed. In my secure penthouse.