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Chapter Fifteen

Blaze

We’re having pre-drinks in the library. Emilia finds any excuse to show off her favorite part of the house. The walls of the green room are lined with books, and oversized windows overlook the blue-green lake. Brown leather seating is arranged throughout the room.

We stand in the center, sipping drinks and chatting while a Miles Davis record plays in the background. Emilia looks at Ma. “Don’t you think Blaze should turn that little outbuilding in his garden into a room like this?”

Ma’s nose wrinkles. “The white one? Behind the giant hole in the ground? I thought that was a shed for tools.”

“My vote is for a pool house,” Haze says.

Emilia’s not convinced. “You can build a new pool house, but the garden one is quaint and original to the property. Imagine reading outside, the big glass doors open, as rosebushes bloom, their soft scent wafting towards you…” Em ilia sighed like Belle when the Beast revealed his library.

Ma smiles at me, her eyes sparkling with champagne. “He’s not got much time for wafting. Or reading. His focus is on work and beautiful women. And you Bachmans seem to have plenty of both here.”

“And sometimes our men work when they should spend time with their beautiful women.” Emilia gives Liam a pointed look.

Ma takes the opportunity to chime in. “Tell me about it! This is the first night I’ve seen my Haze’s handsome face. He’s been all tied up with work.”

“Speaking of work.” Liam takes the opportunity to signal Haze and me. “Can we grab a moment?”

“Sure.” I look over to check on Cleo. She’s by the windows, clinging to Seraphina like the other women might try to devour her. I catch her eye, mouthing, ‘Be right back.’ She gives me a brave nod.

We walk down the hallway to the cigar room where Liam holds meetings. I follow him and Haze. He glances back and says, “Emilia said she’d kill me if I turned this dinner into a work thing, but with the threat in New York, it doesn’t feel right not to meet.”

The dark blue walls and black leather create a masculine vibe, enhanced by lingering cigar smoke and whiskey. We sit in a semi-circle. I’m the youngest here, so I listen closely.

We all know we’re here to discuss what happened at the church. Time is limited, so Liam cuts to the meat of the conversation. “It’s who we thought.”

“The Morettis?” Haze asks.

“The very ones. They don’t like the stronghold we have on the city. They want more turf.”

Haze refers to Bronson, the head of the Hamlet, our place in Connecticut, and Rockland, the boss of the Village in the city. “What do the others say?”

“Bronson wants a temporary truce. Draw new territory lines. Keep the peace.”

“No.” Haze shakes his head. “No way.”

Liam nods. “I agree. We can’t afford to show weakness. Not now.”

“And Rockland?” I ask.

Liam’s heavy gaze finds mine. “He wants to hit them. Hard. Before they can hit back.”

“Absolutely. I don’t see that we have another choice,” Haze agrees.

I sit, unsure of whom to agree with. I support force, but not when the risk to our men exceeds the threat. Right now, they’re testing us. Why escalate without knowing their intentions? I lean toward Bronson’s idea: at least sit down with them. However, I realize I don’t know everything, so I stay silent.

Emilia’s face pops into the doorway. “Gentleman?”

“Meeting adjourned.” Liam stands from his seat, greeting her with a kiss .

She offers her cheek, saying tightly, “I thought we agreed, no work talk tonight.”

“No more. Promise.” Liam addresses us. “Dinner, gentlemen?”

“Dinner sounds amazing,” I offer to Emilia, and I’m rewarded with her smile.

We take the three open seats, but Cleopatra’s is far from mine. Though I try to enjoy the meal, too many questions focus on me. I wanted to hang out and let everyone meet Cleo, but instead, dinner becomes an evening of deflecting Mom and Emilia push me toward a blind date with a woman named Gianna.

When we leave, I realize Cleo’s had too much wine at dinner. Bachmans can be intimidating if you’re not from this world.

And she’s a lightweight.

To keep her safe and sound, I gently scoop her up, savoring the warmth as she snuggles against me. It feels as if everything that matters right now is here in my arms.

“Whee!” She wraps her arms around my neck, enjoying the ride. “Gawd, you are sooo strong, Bro! You make me feel like I weigh a feather.”

I smile down at her. “Weigh a feather?”

“Too much wine,” she laughs.

“Why did you have that third glass?” I ask. “I thought you’d only had two.”

“Had to,” she says. “Have two. ”

“No,” I reply calmly. “You did not have to. I thought I was watching you well, but I need to pay more attention. Was it too much, meeting everyone at once?”

“Nope.” She says in a sing-song voice, “Everyone was very nice. Very nice.”

“Then why did you feel you had to?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” She stares up at me, tapping her finger on the tip of my nose as she hiccups.

“I would. Now tell me before you find yourself over my lap,” I threaten.

“I had to drink more so I could keep pretending, Bro . Gotta push all that down. Way down.”

I nod to the doorknob. “Can you get the door, please?”

“Sure thing, daddio!” Her upper body flops over my arm as she reaches for the brass knob, opening the door before settling back in my arms.

I would much rather her call me Daddy. “Pretend what?”

“Seraphina kept having it refilled. She’s a fruuue trend. A trendy trend. A true friend! Aren’t her clothes great!”

“I guess?” Her ass is under my hand, and I squeeze it. “Pretend what?”

“Seraphina is like you. A winner of the DNA dice roll. A solid 12.” She holds shiny pink fingernails over her mouth, attempting to hide her giggles.

I’ve never seen her this drunk, and in classic Cleopatra fashion, it’s fucking adorable .

I give up my interrogation. “Okay, Cutie. Let’s get you to bed.” I kick the door closed behind us with my heel. “Think you can stand?”

“I know it started as a joke on a bowling alley screen, but I sure like it when you call me Cutie.” I’ve earned another gentle tap on the nose. “I like it too much.”

“Okay, Cutie.” I look at the curved interior staircase and decide she’s safer in my arms once again.

I carry her to my room, laying her on the bed as she giggles. I help her undress and stay outside the bathroom while she goes. Try to avert my eyes as she stands there, naked, brushing her teeth, making her beautiful naked breast jiggle. She hops back to the bed. I consider being a total gentleman and putting clothes on her but decide she’s perfect naked and tuck her under the covers.

The lingering question nags at me, pricking at the back of my mind. She nestles further into the pillow as I ask, “Why did you feel you had to drink tonight?” I ask. “What were you needing to pretend?”

She yawns, her eyes closing as she murmurs. “That I don’t feel anything.”

“Don’t feel anything? For what?”

“For you, silly.”

Her words strike me in the center of my chest. I’ve never dreamed she’d see me as anything more than a fling.

She drifts off to sleep, mumbling something about hobbit children playing baseball .

I lie down beside her, holding her as I think about her confession. She murmurs, more nonsense—this time about a mascot—turning over on her side so I can spoon her. I’m so calm with her in my arms, I fall asleep myself.

I wake to a raging hard-on, my cock nestled in the crest of her perfect peach ass, throbbing with need.

Is this bad? Should I wake her up? She let me put her in a harness earlier. I don’t think she’ll mind… too much.

I grab a cheek in each hand, enjoying the warm softness of her generous curves in my hands, parting her ass so I can nestle the head of my cock where it wants to be, tucked into the ring of her slick entrance.

“You have the prettiest breasts I’ve ever seen,” I whisper.

I love her boobs. Always have, always will. It’s why I chose the low-cut dress for dinner tonight. Her right breast is a little larger than the left, always begging me to kiss it first when we fuck. Now I palm it, taking her nipple between my finger and thumb, rolling it.

Don’t tell the left one, but it’s my favorite of the two, ‘cause the right nipple always gets the hardest.

She comes to with a sexy moan, her hand reaching behind her and running through my hair. Tingles explode over my scalp. She murmurs, laughter in her tone. “Are you having sex with me while I’m sleeping?”

“Kinda,” I thrust against her, burying my cock in her from behind. This spoon fucking is new to me. Didn’t think there was a position I hadn’t tried. “Is that alright? ”

“It’s too late for questions like that.” She leans her ass back, pushing against me. “But I like it. It’s… hot.”

“It turns you on when I take advantage of you?” My hand lowers, roving her soft belly till it finds its home in the warmth between her thighs.

“Kinda.” I’m growing harder inside her, thinking of all the naughty role-play games we can play together in the cave if that’s true. I’m too turned on to last long so I work her clit as I grind my hips against her. Only a few moments later, we’re both moaning, clenched together like a tight fist as we come. I want to fall asleep just like this, my cock inside her, my sperm all over her, my arms tightly wrapped around her?—

“I need a quick shower and a few hours of sleep. Mind if I go to my room?” She gets up, hiding her beautiful body with a discarded throw blanket she’s picked up from the floor.

I don’t want her to go. What happened to her hating to sleep alone? “No,” I say. “Not at all. Get some rest.”

And she closes the door.

Everything in me wants to chase her down, asking her what she means. Knowing she needs her space, I don’t. Instead, I drift off to sleep, wondering what she means. Does she have feelings for me? And if so, why would she need to pretend she doesn’t?

After a fitful sleep, I wake to a text on my phone.

She’s gone for sunrise yoga by the lake and breakfast at the café with Seraphina .

And Dame.

Their bodyguard.

I not only asked him to help keep an eye on Seraphina while she’s here, but I may have also asked him to keep her a bit busy, leaving me some time to enjoy Cleo while I have her. Seraphina’s found a way around it, I guess. She keeps almost as close an eye on Cleo as I do.

Oh well.

I take the opportunity to accept Falcon's offer to inspect the roof. He confirms my suspicion: the flashing was installed incorrectly, causing water damage. Since the girls aren’t back, I call Haze to see if he can meet for coffee; I really need advice from my older brother.

We grab two espressos from the coffee shop, then go back to the parking lot where we can shoot the shit in peace.

He puts his cup down on the hood of his car, reaching into his pocket for a pack of smokes and a lighter.

“Thought you quit,” I say.

“I did.” Haze leans against the sleek black Cadillac, his new baby, lighting a cigarette. The smoke from the burning orange end twirls lazily into the air. He takes another drag, a grim expression etched on his face as he exhales. “Don’t tell Ophelia.”

“Haze. She knows. She complains to me about it all the time.”

He smiles. “Can’t get anything by my girl, can I?”

“No. She loves you and she worries. ”

He takes another deep drag before saying, “Worries seem to abound at the moment,” smoke swirling as he releases it.

I think about our talk with Liam last night. Afterward, we three went straight to dinner. He and I haven’t had time to debrief. “What do you think about New York?”

"They're bold, Blaze," Haze mutters, running a hand through his dark hair. "They’re increasingly encroaching on our territory, getting closer to their main target.”

“The Village,” I say, thinking of our beautiful, hidden city in Manhattan.

Haze blows a smoke ring before saying, "It's like they have no respect for code. Who targets a church at a wedding?” He answers his own question. “The Morettis are trash. They don’t care about codes. Rockland,” he says the name of the family head of the Village with reverence, “thinks we need to send a strong message. Now. Before things get bad."

"The Morettis are playing with fire," I mumble.

Liam's words from last night linger in the air, heavy with the weight of impending action.

We can't afford to show weakness. Not now.

I straighten my posture, meeting Haze's steely gaze with determination. "I may have a contact. Let me see what I can do before things escalate.”

“No.” He shakes his head. “There’s no time. We need to strike.” His jaw sets in a determined line.

We stand in silence, and he thinks I’m in silent agreement. I’m not sure I am. I feel torn .

I know Haze believes diplomacy is over; we must act swiftly to protect what is ours. I feel a surge of adrenaline at the prospect of action, standing up to those who threaten our territory. Shadows whisper of impending conflict, but I know that’s not best for both families.

I have ties to the Moretti family. Ones I’m not quite ready to cut. Am I letting those cloud my judgment?

Haze breaks the momentary silence. “For now, I’m glad everyone is here. Don’t let that girl out of your sight.”

“I won’t. She’s with Dame, now.”

“Good.” Haze drags his cup to his lips for a swallow, then peers at me over his espresso. “What did you want to talk about regarding Cleopatra?”

Haze and I were both raised by Ma. We don’t do emotions in our family. It takes guts to force myself to say, “You know how I feel about her, right?”

He scoffs. “Anyone in the room last night should have been able to see how you feel about her. They’d have to be blind not to.”

“For the first time, she mentioned she may have feelings for me, too.” Feeling like a fifth grader with a crush, I swallow the lump in my throat. “Then she said she has to pretend otherwise.”

He contemplates for a moment. “She’s pretty straight edge. Not much of a rule breaker. Do you think it’s because you two are related? That’s pretty taboo. Hooking up with your stepbrother. ”

“Yeah, I guess.” But something tugs in my chest, telling me that there’s more to her words.

“Maybe ‘cause you’re in a mafia?” He narrows his gaze. “Last night, didn’t she say she teaches?”

“Kindergarten.”

“Criminal Minds vs. fingerpainting. Seems like a conflict.” He gazes off for a second, saying, “Wait. If you and I are half-brothers and she is your stepsister, does that make her my half-stepsister?”

“I guess?”

“Cool. I like her. She’s sweet.” He puts the cup down. “So, why haven’t you told her yet?”

“I think if she feels something for me, she’ll stop herself…” The rest of the words come out in a pain-filled rush. “Because I’m not good enough for her.”

Haze’s brow narrows. “Have the two of you ever been alone?”

My cock stirs thinking of our alone time in my bat cave. “Yeah. Of course we have.”

“No. I don’t mean alone for a few hours. I mean like away from everything. Somewhere you can spend some time being Blaze and Cleo.”

He makes a good point. “No, I guess not.”

“You need time together, to see if there’s anything real there,” he says.

I agree. “That makes sense. ”

He leans in, briefly touching mine before pulling it back. “And you absolutely are good enough for her. Never let me hear you say my brother isn’t good enough.”

“Thanks, man.” His words mean a lot to me.

We both head towards our respective vehicles, ready to carry on. I let a little prick of hope come over me. I know exactly what has to happen. I know what I need to do?—

My phone rings. It’s Dame. I pick up on the second ring.

“Mate. We’ve got an issue.” His voice is tight, strained with tension. “I lost the girls.”

And in that moment, my whole world shrinks.