Page 33 of Sweetest Sin (Tempting Love #1)

Peyton

It’s been a little over a week since we moved in with Dominick, and we’ve fallen into a bit of a routine.

Dominick has breakfast with Damien and me every morning before he excuses himself to work from his office.

During which time, Damien and I switch between playing in the pool, the backyard—Damien mentioned once that he wished he had a swing set, and one magically appeared the next morning—and Damien’s new bedroom, which looks like Cars threw up everywhere.

I’ve never seen anything get done as quickly as when Dominick snaps his fingers, but I must admit, it’s rather impressive.

I can see why he’s as successful as he is.

I’ve overheard him doing business from his office a few times, and he’s confident and knowledgeable, and he doesn’t accept no as an answer.

Sometimes, Dominick joins us for lunch. I’ve learned that he usually works at his office downtown, but he’s working from home because he wants to be close to Damien.

He also joins us for dinner every night, and we spend the evening with Damien, watching movies, playing with his toys.

Then, Dominick helps with his bedtime routine.

A few times, he’s even read him a story before bed.

The first couple of nights here, after Damien went to sleep, I ventured out to the main area out of boredom.

But with Martha always leaving before dinner, Dominick retreating to his office to work, and Matteo and Brielle being MIA, I’ve given up, and I now go straight to my room to watch TV or read—because after Damien’s room was turned into a child’s dream room, I moved to the room next door.

When Dominick said he wanted me to give him a chance, I thought he meant us .

I even thought, when we were standing in his office, before Damien showed up, he was going to kiss me.

But he hasn’t made any attempt to kiss me again, and every conversation we have revolves around Damien, making me believe that it was all in my head.

Which is kind of strange since he told me he didn’t want me to date anyone else.

That the idea of me kissing or fucking anyone else drove him nuts.

But he did tell me that his parents were part of an arranged marriage, which is one reason there was no love between them, so maybe that’s what he’s expecting from me—a loveless arrangement.

I think we’re going to have to talk because that’s not what I’m looking for.

I haven’t had much luck in the love department, but I’m too young to give up on finding it.

I hear shuffling outside my door, so I walk over and peek out, wondering who I’ll see.

I’ve run into Brielle a few times, but she tends to keep her distance, and Matteo comes and goes, but we don’t see him often.

If it wasn’t for Dominick mentioning that both of them live here, I would never have known it.

Larisa has joined us for dinner a couple of times, and Damien seems to like her.

She’s sweet, and she makes a point of trying to get to know us both.

Dominick says she was very withdrawn when they were growing up, so he’s enjoying watching Damien soften her up.

But Damien seems to have warmed up to Martha the most. It probably has something to do with their daily baking sessions and the fact that she always makes him his favorite meals, despite me telling her it’s not necessary.

I always wondered what it would be like to be a stay-at-home mom, and while I enjoy getting to spend time with Damien, I can tell he’s starting to get bored.

He’s been in structured childcare his entire life because of me being in school and having to work, and I think he’s missing the socialization.

It doesn’t help that there are no other children here.

Which is why I’ve decided Dominick and I need to talk. And since Damien is in bed for the night, I figured now is the perfect time.

When I see it’s only Ricky standing outside my door—the guard Dominick hired to watch over Damien and me.

His job is to literally follow us around to ensure we’re safe, and at night, he stands guard outside of our son’s room.

I’m not even sure if the man sleeps at this point—I give him a quick head nod and then head down the stairs to Dominick’s office, where I know I’ll find him.

It’s where he always is when he’s not spending time with Damien.

The door is open, and I’m about to walk in when he barks out, “I don’t give a shit!”

There’s a loud bang, and I jump, imagining it’s his fist hitting the wood desk.

“Lock him up. We need some goddamn answers. And then I’ll slice his throat myself. I’ll meet you there.”

I hold my breath, debating whether to leave or go in, but before I can decide, Dominick storms out of the door, running straight into me. Because he didn’t know I was there, I fly back, landing on the floor with a thump.

With him towering over me, flashbacks of my dad standing over my mom after he hit her flit through my mind, and I find myself closing my eyes, preparing for the worst.

Only the worst doesn’t come.

“Jesus,” Dominick hisses, gently lifting me off the floor and carrying me into the living room. “Are you okay? What were you doing?”

I open my eyes just in time to see him glance from me to the office door and back.

“Were you spying on me?”

He quirks a brow, and I squirm for him to put me down, but he only holds me tighter.

“You lied,” I choke out.

“What?”

“You said you would keep your business out of this home. I was coming to talk to you and heard you tell someone that you would slice his throat yourself.”

Dominick’s eyes go wide.

“What if it had been Damien? He could’ve heard your conversation. Is that what you want? For our son to know that his father is a killer?”

“Fuck.” He scrubs his hand down his face.

I notice his stubble has turned into a full-grown beard. His eyes … they look cold, and underneath them, his tanned skin is dark, like he hasn’t slept in days.

“Are you okay?”

He sighs. “Shit’s hit the fan. Somebody keeps going after our shipments.

We lost one, costing us hundreds of thousands of dollars, but they fucked up with this last one, and we were able to catch one of them.

He’s being held at the warehouse, waiting to be interrogated.

I wasn’t thinking when I spoke. I’m not used to having to censor what I say. ”

“If you’d rather we move somewhere else …” His jaw clenches, so I add, “Not another city. But we could move somewhere else. To another home. I was actually thinking I could start looking for a job?—”

“Peyton,” he growls, “you’re not going anywhere. I would never hurt you or our son. I would kill myself before either of you hurt in any way.”

I swallow thickly, wanting to believe him. He’s done nothing to show me otherwise, but it’s hard to separate the two—the violent businessman and the man currently sitting on the couch, holding me like I’m the most precious thing in the world.

His phone vibrates in his hand, and he tightens his fist around it. “I have to go.”

I swallow around the lump lodged in my throat, and instead of getting up, he glances at me.

“I’ve been distracted the past several days, but I want you and Damien here.” He tucks a few wayward strands of hair behind my ear. “We’ll talk when I get home.”

I nod, and then he stands, sets me down on the couch, and walks out the door while I stay where I am, wondering what the hell I’m doing. I agreed to move in here, but I don’t think I can do this. Even if he keeps his business out of the home, I still know what he’s doing when he leaves.

“I know what you’re thinking,” Brielle says, stepping out of the shadows. “How can you possibly be with a man who’s capable of playing cars with his son one minute and then shooting someone the next?”

She saunters over, looking put together, as always.

Today, she’s sporting a high-waisted, wide-legged crimson pant set with a sleeveless crop top that shows off just a hint of her flat belly.

Her blonde hair looks to have freshly done highlights, and her makeup is flawless.

Finishing her look is a pair of matching heels with the signature red sole.

I’m not sure what she does all day, but I’ve yet to see her looking anything but perfect.

Meanwhile, I’m in an oversized T-shirt and cotton shorts, making me look like a homeless person.

“Get the thought of leaving out of your head,” she says, stopping in front of me.

“Even if you somehow convince my brother to let you go, once you’re in this world, there is no getting out.

Everyone’s already talking. They know Dominick has a son—an heir to the almighty Antonov empire.

Matteo has spread the word that Anthony tried to take him, and there’s a bull’s-eye on his forehead with a hefty price tag. ”

“You got out,” I note, remembering Dominick mentioned she was in Russia for almost five years.

“And now I’m back, and not by choice. You can fight against it all you want, but it won’t change anything.” She walks over and joins me on the couch.

“When my grandfather was growing up, Harbor Point was overrun by violence and corruption and poverty. Little by little, my grandfather, along with his friends, Antonio Russo and Joseph Rothschild Senior started cleaning up the city. They provided protection to businesses so they could run without fear of being pushed out or robbed. They swept the streets of the shady drug dealers and pimps, and my grandfather bought the port so he could control all import and export. Then, they started buying the run-down buildings and renovating them.”

“Rothschild and Russo?” I question, having heard those names before. “You mean Lorenzo and Anthony’s?—”