Page 36

My focus isn’t on the meeting. It isn’t on the fact Rocco and Rafael have made progress with building a connection with the MC affiliated with the O’Connells. Nope, it’s on my little pet. The girl who has swooped in and captured my attention and, worse, my heart.

Massio had the privilege of taking her shopping this morning, much to his dissatisfaction. In fact, his lip curled into a sneer before he cleared his throat and grunted his approval when I cocked an eyebrow to his objection.

I messaged him frequently throughout the day, eager to know of her progress. Despite Massio assuring me there’d been none, I knew he was fucking with me. No woman goes to a mall with a black card and returns unhappy or leaves emptyhanded.

When Rafael declared he was making moves to shake up the drug dealers who dared enter our club last night, I feigned boredom at his suggestions and told him and Rocco to go ahead without me.

I had security drive me home because, like an addict, I was craving the only thing that could appease me—her.

Maybe I’m more like my stepson than I care to believe.

Maybe Tommy’s addictions were of my doing too.

Another parenting fuck-up of mine, yet I still drive into Gracie at every opportunity, knowing I’m fucking her bareback.

Am I really that desperate to keep her that I’d risk having another child at my age?

My cock twitches in glee, and when a wooden spoon clocks me on the side of my head, I’m pulled from my thoughts and reminded of the present.

“Bon-Bon, seriously? No hitting Papa,” I chastise in a playful tone I only remember using on my grandchildren.

The house feels somewhat empty without Gracie being here, and I check my phone again, tracking the car returning to the house.

Until she walks through the door, I will remain on edge.

Sending her shopping without me was not a good idea.

Massio might be the best man I know to protect her, but that didn’t help with the ball of dread as she left.

It was one of the reasons I insisted on Hazel babysitting Bonnie—so I knew she’d return.

She giggles loudly, causing her chubby tummy to bounce.

“Pa!” She shocks the shit out of me, then whacks me with the spoon again.

“Pa!” she says louder, exposing her bottom teeth and making me grin from ear to ear.

She’s the cutest little baby I’ve seen, a mirror image of her momma, and jealousy creeps into my bloodstream at the thought of someone else giving her the greatest gift. Someone stole that from me.

The darkness inside me rears its ugly head, and I suddenly want to track the fucker down and dismember him for taking what should have been mine.

The sooner she’s pregnant with my child, the better. Yes, a replica of my perfect little Bon-Bon.

“Papa!” Bonnie declares, pushing up from the floor and using her chubby hands to stand.

The sound of her calling me the same name my sons call me has my lungs constricting, and I hold my hands to her. “Come on. Come to Papa,” I coax. She grins a drooly grin, and as she steps toward me, a surge of excitement swells in my chest. “Come on, Bon-Bon,” I urge. “You can do it!”

She sways on her feet but somehow stays upright, and when she takes the two steps toward me, I catch her as she falls into my arms. “Clever girl.” I deliver soft kisses on her nest of curls. “Such a clever girl for Papa.” I smile and shower her in praise.

A gasp of surprise pulls my attention toward the door. “She took her first steps?” Gracie steps into the room.

“She did.” I maneuver her onto my hip and stand. “Did you see?” I beam back at Gracie.

Tears have filled her eyes. “Yes! She walked to you.”

I pull her toward me to have both my girls nestled against my chest. Bonnie plays with the buttons on my shirt, and I place a kiss on top of her momma’s head and breathe in her peach scent to help settle the anxiety from her absence.

“I can’t believe she walked for you.” Awe laces her tone, and pride fills my bloodstream.

I don’t ever recall watching the boys walk for me, and truth be told, I’m not sure I would’ve even given a fuck.

I had men to slay, a reputation to uphold, and a literal bloodbath on my doorstep to conceal from their eyes.

The last thing I had time for was my children.

A knock sounds from the doorway, and Massio steps inside, something I will have to discuss with him. While the other women I paraded around the mansion with little to no thought, I don’t want him seeing Gracie in a state of undress. “Sir?”

“What?” I snap, and he rears back like I punched him in the gut.

He swallows thickly. “You asked for an update?”

He’s referring to Gracie and the day they spent together, a day she should have spent with me.

Did he watch her as she tried clothes on?

Does he know what she bought? Again, jealousy slivers through my veins, and my body stiffens, but I shove the foreign feelings aside and place Bonnie in her momma’s arms while twirling the hook of her collar around as a reminder of who she belongs to.

“She will want to eat soon. Save me some.” I speak low, for only her ears, and delight in the way she nods, then I step past her and follow Massio into my office.

The moment the door closes behind him, I head toward the decanter and pour us both two fingers of whiskey. I place the glass down in front of him and nurse mine, then settle my old ass on my chair. “Go on,” I prompt.

“She didn’t buy a damn thing for herself.

You made me traipse around all those fucking stores, and she didn’t buy anything for her.

” He shakes his head, and his lips twist in disgust. If I was anything but pissed right now, I’d find his reaction amusing, but who the hell has she been buying things for?

“She bought the baby half a dozen things: clothes, a bath toy, blanket etc.” He wafts his hand and takes a swig of his whiskey.

“Then she bought you this.” A smug smile spreads across his face as he digs into his jacket pocket to retrieve a small bag that he then hands to me.

When I remove the black material from inside, I frown.

“A tie, to match your eyes apparently.” He scoffs and rolls his eyes, and the jest in his tone pisses me off.

“More like to match your fucking soul.” That makes my lips twitch, but anger still simmers in my bloodstream at the thought of her denying me the curtesy of providing for her. She’s mine to care for.

Maybe she needs a reminder of just how much I own every inch of her.