Page 30 of Sweetest Sin (Tempting Love #1)

Peyton

The next few hours are spent with Dominick and Damien roughhousing in the pool while I sit on the edge and watch.

For a little while, I can’t help but pretend like we’re a normal family—Dominick is an upstanding citizen and businessman who took the day off to spend time with his son, and I’m a stay-at-home mom, looking for a job after graduating from college.

There’s no violence.

No corruption.

We’re just a happy little family, and everything is perfect.

When Damien starts to rub his eyes, I tell him it’s time for a nap. He starts to whine, and I’m preparing for the tantrum that’s about to ensue when Dominick speaks to him.

“Hey, buddy,” he says, holding Damien in his arms like he’s been caring for him his entire life. “How about you go take a nap, and when you wake up, we can play with some of your new toys?”

“I got new toys?” Damien’s teary eyes light up with renewed excitement.

“Yeah. They were delivered a little bit ago. We can check them out after your nap.”

He stops crying, and while I know he’s only giving in because Dominick is new and shiny and totally bribed him, it’s nice to have someone as backup.

I bring Damien his towel and wrap it around him and then carry him up to our room so I can rinse him off and change him into dry clothes.

He falls asleep quickly, and I consider staying in the room with him so I don’t have to face Dominick or anyone else in the house. I overheard his sister’s judgmental remarks about me keeping his son away from him. And although his brother is kind of funny, he’s also pretty freaking scary.

Figuring it’ll be better to talk to Dominick about the future without Damien around, I head down in search of him.

After checking the kitchen and living room, where I see the toys he told Damien about, I find him in what I assume is his office, at his desk, typing away on his laptop.

Once again, he’s dressed in business attire—a gray button-down dress shirt, rolled to his elbows, showing off a few tattoos, some of which weren’t there when we spent the night together.

I can’t see what’s below the desk, but I imagine he’s in his usual dress pants and shoes.

I’ve never seen him dressed down. Even during our time sightseeing in the Dominican Republic, he was wearing a collared shirt and khakis.

“Are you coming in, or will you just continue to eye-fuck me from the doorway?” he asks, making me roll my eyes.

“You’re going to need to watch your mouth around our son,” I tell him, stepping inside. “I have enough trouble keeping him from cursing without you throwing F-bombs around. And I wasn’t eye-fucking you. I was wondering if you went to bed in a suit.”

He stops typing and looks up at me, mirth dancing in his gray eyes. “Who says I sleep?”

He quirks a brow, and I sit in the visitor seat across from him.

“That’s true,” I agree. “I thought you were asleep in the Dominican Republic, but really, you were just waiting to get away in the middle of the night.” I cringe at the hurt in my tone, wishing I could take back what I said. But it’s too late.

“I didn’t sneak out,” he says, closing the laptop and shifting it to the side.

His hand goes to the corner of his chiseled jaw, and he uses it to hold his head up as he locks eyes with me.

“My dad had been killed,” he explains, scrubbing his hand over his stubble, “and I wasn’t thinking clearly.

It wasn’t until I was on the plane that I realized I’d left without a note, but by then, it was too late. ”

I nod in understanding. “I’m sorry about your dad.”

“I’m not,” he says, his tone devoid of all emotion. “He was a shitty father, an even shittier husband, and his business partner shooting him saved my brother and me the trouble of taking him out ourselves.”

“And that right there is why I’m scared of you,” I admit.

“Violence is just so easy for you. I know you’re mad that I kept Damien from you, but you don’t understand what I went through.

Your life is filled with brutality and you’re okay with that.

You talk about it like you’re discussing the weather.

“But you weren’t there when my dad brought his violent job home and took it out on my mom.

I would hear her beg him to stop as he hit her and hurt her, and then he’d spend the next several days apologizing and promising he would never do it again,” I choke out, hating that after all these years, it still makes me emotional.

“You weren’t there when my mom finally saved enough money and accumulated enough evidence against him so that she could escape him. Is that what you want? For me to live in fear that, one day, you’re going to get violent with me—or worse, our son?”

“Dominick would never hurt you,” a feminine voice says.

When I turn, I find Brielle sauntering into the office.

She’s dressed in a cute, short black dress that’s cinched around her waist, showing off her curves, while the top is modest with short sleeves and a turtleneck.

Her blonde hair is pin straight, and her makeup is flawless.

She’s sporting a pair of black heels with the signature red soles, and she’s glaring at me like I personally offended her.

“You don’t know that,” I tell her.

“Yes, I do,” she says, stopping in front of me. “We grew up with an abusive father who hit our mother, and Dominick and Matteo would defend her, earning themselves beatings.”

I gasp in shock and glance at Dominick, who’s now sitting up, clenching his jaw and glaring at his sister.

“Brielle,” he warns, “I don’t need you to?—”

“No,” she cuts him off. “I’m not going to listen to her accuse you of things you aren’t capable of.

” She looks at him briefly before turning back to me.

“My brother might be a lot of things, but he would never hurt a woman or child. I get not wanting to be a part of this world. Most days, I hate it, too, but to keep that little boy from his father, out of fear that Dominick would hurt him, is wrong.”

Tears fill her eyes as she looks at me, speaking with conviction.

“He spent years protecting me from our abusive father. You want to know why he still lives in our family home instead of moving out and getting his own place? Because he refused to leave our mother. He knew once he was bigger and stronger than our father, he wouldn’t touch our mother.

So, he stayed to protect her. The same reason Matteo stayed. ”

“Why didn’t she leave?” I ask, needing to know … needing to understand.

“Because he would’ve had her killed,” Dominick says.

“You’ve killed other people,” I point out. “Why didn’t you kill him?”

“Because we would’ve lost everything,” he admits.

“Andrey was a very smart businessman, and when he realized he couldn’t control us with his fists, he controlled us with his money and power.

My entire world was wrapped up in the business, and he made it so that if he died, we’d get nothing.

So, knowing that my mother and sister were safe, I plotted his demise. But it thankfully happened sooner.”

“The night we were in the Dominican Republic,” I finish.

“Yes,” he says with a nod. “I left the DR to come home and bury Andrey and put out fires. I told myself it was for the best because I never wanted you to be involved in this life.”

“Yet you’re dragging me and Damien into it.”

“You can’t expect him to live without his son,” Brielle says, reminding me that she’s still here. “That’s not fair.”

I swallow thickly as I take in the sadness in her eyes, in her words, and I’m at a loss as to what to do.

“I can’t change the way things are,” Dominick says. “My world is violent, but I will keep our son safe. I won’t let anything happen to him, and I will give him everything I have to give. Money, clothes, vacations, the best school …”

“He doesn’t need any of that,” I choke out. “All he needs is to feel loved and safe.”

“And he will be,” Dominick promises, his gray eyes locking with mine. “He’s already loved. But now, he’ll be loved by more people. By my mother, my sister, my brother … and we will all protect him.”

“With our lives,” Brielle adds. “And the same goes for you. You’re family now. And we take care of and protect our own.” She turns to Dominick. “I’m sorry for forgetting that.”

I don’t know what she’s referring to when she apologizes, and I don’t hear what Dominick says in response because my brain is currently stuck on what she just said.

“You’re family now. And we take care of and protect our own.”

Family.

For so long, I’ve been on my own. Even when my mom was alive, she was sick. It was just me taking care of her and then Damien. I can’t even recall a time when anyone cared for or protected me. The thought of someone looking after me for once feels like a fever dream.

“So, where do we go from here?” I ask Dominick. “I don’t agree with your life and business choices, but I also don’t want to keep our son from you.”

“I’m going to let you guys talk,” Brielle says, stepping back toward the door.

“Did you need something?” Dominick asks her.

“I’m going to go have drinks with Katie,” she says. “I’m assuming I need to take a guard with me.”

“Take Daniil,” he replies. “He’ll be your guard. Anywhere you go, he goes. And have Fernando drive you.”

Once she’s gone, I glance at him. “Does that mean we can leave now?”

Dominick’s gaze turns glacier. “You just said you don’t want to take my son away from me, yet in the next breath, you’re trying to leave.”

“Well, obviously, I’m going to have to stay in Harbor Point. But I can’t live in this house forever. I mean, it’s big and all, but I need my own space, and … what if one of us wants to date? We’ll have to figure out?—”

Dominick growls, “Who the fuck are you dating?”

My thoughts go to Jake. We were only just getting to know each other, and if I’m honest, there wasn’t much of a spark, but I still owe it to him to let him know I’ve moved.

“Well, no one right now. But?—”

Dominick rounds the desk, eating up the space between us until he’s towering over me. Out of instinct, I stand and step back, but forgetting the chair is behind me, I stumble.

Before I hit the chair—or worse, the floor—Dominick reaches around my waist and hoists me onto my feet. Our eyes lock, and for a moment, I’m brought back to the first time I met him.

“So we meet again,” he says, his playful words a paradox to his broody tone. “The first time we were in this position, all I could think about was how badly I wanted to fuck you in the restroom.”

I snort out a laugh. “I doubt we would’ve fit.”

“I don’t want you to date anyone else,” he says, changing the subject so quick that I blink several times, trying to mentally catch up.

“What?” I breathe.

I heard him, but what does that mean?

“The thought of another man touching you”—he runs his finger along my neck and up to my mouth—“kissing you”—he traces the seam of my lips, and when I suck in a harsh breath, he slides his fingertip into my mouth—“fucking you … drives me insane.” He swirls his finger along my tongue, gently pushing it in and out between my parted lips, and I clench my legs together, wishing I weren’t as turned on as I am.

“I tried to keep you out of this life, but fate had other plans. And now that you’re here, I’m never letting you go,” he says as he removes his finger and drags my saliva across my lips.

“Give me a chance, Peaches. Let me show you that I can protect you and our son. I promise, you’ll both want for nothing.”

“Dominick,” I breathe, my heart erratic from our closeness, “I’m … I’m scared.”

I expect him to argue, but he nods in understanding.

“I get it,” he says, “and I’m not going to lie to you.” He cups my cheek, and without thought, I sigh into his hold. “There will be times when you see or hear shit that scares you, but just know that I will do everything in my power to keep it out of our home and away from you and our family.”

“One chance,” I tell him, letting my heart and gut guide me rather than my brain. “One chance to prove that you can keep us safe. But I swear to God, Dominick, if anything happens to our little boy …”

“Nothing will happen to him,” he says. “I’ll burn this city to the fucking ground before I let anything happen to either of you. You have my word.”

“Okay,” I whisper. “We’ll stay.”

Dominick licks his lips, his eyes locking on mine, and for a moment, I think he might kiss me. And I’d let him.

But then a tiny voice yells out, “Mommy,” and we separate, both of us going in search of our son.

“Mommy!” Damien yells when he sees me. “I play with toys now.” He jumps into my arms and circles his arms around my neck and then swivels around me so he can look at Dominick. “Mr. … Domick , I play with my toys now?”

I stifle a laugh at the butchered name he gave him and walk us over to the couch, having a seat with Damien in my lap. Dominick sits across from us on the coffee table.

“You can play with your toys,” I tell him, “but first, I need to tell you something.”

He huffs in annoyance but nods.

“You know how Frankie has a mommy and a daddy?” I say, using his friend as an example since Damien talks about them all the time.

“Yeah. He has a mommy and a daddy, and a pool, and a yard, and he can have a Giving Tree. Oh! Mr. Domick , can I have The Giving Tree now?”

Dominick glances from Damien to me with the most perplexed look on his face, and I get it because …

“Welcome to parenting,” I say with a laugh.

“We’ll talk about the tree later,” I tell Damien. “But right now, I want to talk to you about mommies and daddies.”

Damien nods, but I can tell I’m quickly losing his attention, so rather than draw this out, I simply say, “You know how I’m your mommy?”

He nods.

“Well, Dominick is your daddy.”

Damien’s brows furrow, and I can’t help but smile at how much he looks like Dominick when he does that.

“You’re my daddy?” Damien asks him. “Like Frankie’s daddy is his daddy?”

“Yeah, buddy,” Dominick says. “I’m your dad.”

“Does that mean we can get a Giving Tree now?”

I snort out a laugh, and Dominick grins, shaking his head.

“Yeah, we can get a Giving Tree.”

Damien jumps off my lap and throws himself into Dominick’s arms, enveloping him in a hug.

As Dominick hugs him back, his eyes meet mine, and I note that they’re filled with so much raw emotion.

Most of the time, Dominick is cold, brooding, and calculating, but I’m learning that it’s a shield to protect himself from the outside world and that he saves his softness for the people closest to him.

The people who have earned the right to see him vulnerable.

“Thank you, Daddy.” He wiggles out of his hold and stands. “Let’s go get The Giving Tree now.”

Damien grabs Dominick’s hand and pulls him to get up.

“Wait, where do we get a Giving Tree?” Dominick asks.

“In the forest, Daddy,” Damien answers, making Dominick’s eyes go wide.

“Better get to chopping,” I joke. “You have a tree to bring home, Daddy. ”