Page 45 of Sweetest Sin (Tempting Love #1)

While he looks mean, from the little bit of interaction I’ve had with him, he’s a jokester who doesn’t take much seriously.

But Dominick says not to be fooled, that his brother is ten times more ruthless than him—and that alone is scary as hell.

Because I can’t imagine anyone more ruthless than Dominick.

“Dominick,” Lorenzo says, having a seat at the end of the table. “Mrs. Antonov.”

He nods toward me, and I burst out laughing at his formality.

I don’t know much about Lorenzo besides that he’s best friends with Matteo, he runs a company that partners with Antonov Enterprises a lot, and he has a younger sister that Dominick was supposed to marry before their dad died and they threw the arrangement out the window.

Unlike Matteo, Lorenzo is dressed in a pair of charcoal slacks and a button-down shirt, the sleeves rolled to his forearms. He’s sporting several tattoos as well—a contradiction to the formal attire.

As I glance between the three of them, I find it funny how different they all are, yet they clearly work well together, if their newest expansion project is anything to go by.

Dominick drove me by it the other day to check on it, and it’s going to top the one in Coral Bay.

When he told me he was a major investor in that project, I was in awe.

In the hospitality industry, Antonov Enterprises and Russo Property Group—Lorenzo’s company—are spoken about with reverence and respect.

To say they are two of the top players in the industry would be an understatement.

“You can call me Peyton,” I say to Lorenzo. “Dominick and I aren’t married. We’re not even engaged.”

I take a bite of my pancake and feel Dominick glare at me, but his possessiveness doesn’t scare me.

Matteo barks out a laugh. “Careful there, bro. You look like you’re about to suffer from a brain aneurysm.”

“Feel free to fuck off,” Dominick mutters, making Matteo laugh harder and Lorenzo join in.

“Daddy, you said a bad, bad word,” Damien says with a laugh.

“Yeah, Daddy .” Matteo smirks. “No swearing.”

Dominick glares at his brother, which only makes Matteo’s grin widen.

“Can I have another pancake?” Damien asks.

Before Dominick or I can answer, Matteo reaches over and grabs one for him, plopping it onto his plate. “Here you go, little man.”

“Thanks.” Damien smiles up at him. “You want a bite?”

He stabs a piece and holds it out for Matteo, who takes a bite without thinking twice, and my heart warms. These men can easily be cruel and cold, yet they’re always loving and caring toward my son, proving that violence is a choice—one my sperm donor chose to make when I was growing up.

“Damn, these are good,” Matteo says. “Did you make them?”

Damien nods proudly. “Daddy and I made breakfast for dinner.” He giggles because he thinks he’s getting away with something when we eat food like pancakes for dinner.

“I got the surveys back,” Lorenzo says, delving into business.

“Not now,” Dominick says. “I’m having dinner with my family. We can discuss business later.”

Lorenzo’s brows shoot up, but Matteo isn’t shocked since that’s Dominick’s go-to answer anytime anyone tries to talk business while he’s with us.

“I need to head into the gym to get some training in before the fight,” Matteo says to Dominick. “Wanna join?”

Before he can answer, I blurt out, “You’re a fighter?”

Thoughts of my sperm donor come to mind, and I wonder if they fight in the same organization.

“Yeah,” Matteo says. “I have a fight coming up in a couple of weeks.”

“What organization are you a part of?” I ask.

“Underground,” he says. “I prefer to fight without rules.” He smirks. “You ever been to a fight?”

I nod. “My dad was a fighter for the World Boxing Association.”

Matteo’s eyes go wide. “Who is he?”

“Bobby Johnson … but everyone called him?—”

“The Executioner,” Matteo finishes for me.

It doesn’t surprise me that he knows who he is. He’s one of the world’s biggest boxers, next to Mike Tyson and Floyd Mayweather.

“Yep, that’s him,” I say with a shrug.

“Holy shit, that’s insane. He’s amazing.”

“Yeah, he was also an abusive POS who used to beat on my mom until she finally left him,” I mutter.

Matteo’s grin disappears. “Shit, I’m sorry. Want me to take him out for you?”

“Bad word, Uncle Matty,” Damien says as I gape at Matteo, shocked that he just offered to take out my sperm donor.

But then a playful smile spreads across his face, and I cackle.

“I’m good, but thank you.”

“All right.” He shrugs. “But if you change your mind, just let me know. I could totally take him out. Speaking of which”—he glances at Dominick—“want to come spar with me down at the gym? I could use some actual competition.” He side-eyes Lorenzo, who shrugs.

“It’s not my fault. I don’t want to ugly up my mug,” Lorenzo says, reverently stroking the sides of his face with his thumb and forefinger. “I’ve got a date with Hillary, and she happens to like my pretty face.”

“That’s because she’s shallow,” Matteo points out. “Of course she only cares about your looks.”

“It’s not like that,” Lorenzo volleys. “And you’re just being a little bitch about her because you saw her first, but she wanted me.”

“Watch your mouth,” Dominick growls at the same time Matteo barks out a laugh.

“Only because she knew you were husband material,” Matteo says, “and she’s looking to be a trophy wife.”

“You’re not husband material?” I ask.

He might be a little rough around the edges and a major jokester, but he’s always so nice to Damien and me.

“My brother is a perpetual bachelor,” Dominick says dryly. “He’d rather jump off a tall building than settle down.”

“That’s just because you haven’t found the right woman,” I tell Matteo, who clearly disagrees based on the look he’s giving me. “Look at Dominick. He had no desire to settle down, and now, he’s working overtime to knock me up and make me his wife.”

It’s meant as a joke—sort of—but Matteo’s eyes bug out.

“What?” he hisses. “You’re trying to have another baby? Are you fucking mad?”

“Language,” Dominick comments.

“A baby?” Damien asks. “I want a baby brother!”

“You guys are ridiculous,” Matteo says, standing and violently pushing his chair in, making Damien jump.

“Were you not raised in the same house as me?” he says to Dominick, sounding more serious than I’ve ever heard him before.

“Were you not there when our sister was … hurt? All the times our mom suffered at the hands of our piece-of-shit father? I get that you don’t want to deny your son, and Peyton comes with him, but why would you willingly bring more innocent people into this fucked-up world? ”

Matteo glances from Dominick to Lorenzo. “Your mom and dad are dead,” he says to Lorenzo. “Everybody we’ve ever tried to keep safe has been hurt in some way or another. It’s irresponsible and reckless to?—”

“Enough,” Dominick snaps. “The world isn’t perfect, and ours is even less, but you can’t expect us all to live our lives alone.”

He stands and walks over to Matteo, getting in his face, and for a second, I worry they’re about to fight right here, in the dining room, in front of Damien.

“I know Andrey was a piece of crap, but that’s on him, not you. Neither of us is him , nor will we ever be. You want to live your life alone? Fine. But don’t judge those of us who are trying to find a sliver of light here.”

Dominick shocks me—and I’m sure everyone else—when he pulls his brother into a tight hug. “I love you, Matteo, but you have got to stop blaming yourself for what happened to Brielle and Mom. We did everything we could, but Andrey was a sick bastard who got what was coming to him.”

He pulls back but keeps his hands on his brother’s shoulders. “If you only believe one thing I tell you, believe that you deserve to be loved. My son loves you, I love you …”

“And so do I,” Brielle says, stepping into the dining room.

She’s dressed in yoga pants and a tank with her face makeup-free and her hair up in a loose ponytail—more than likely having just gotten home from the Pilates studio where she attends classes several times a week.

“And I don’t blame either of you for what happened to me,” she adds. “So, stop blaming yourselves. You’ve protected me your entire lives.”

Dominick backs up, and Brielle gives Matteo a hug.

“I was in love once,” she chokes out. “And it was the best feeling in the world. Don’t knock it until you try it.”

“Even after everything you went through, you’re telling me you would be okay with falling in love again?” Matteo asks incredulously.

“In a heartbeat,” Brielle says, making my heart hurt for her because all she wants is to find love. She might have a rough exterior, but deep down, she’s a hopeless romantic. “I want a man who will love me with every ounce of his being, and I won’t settle for anything less.”

Matteo sighs and shakes his head. “I’m happy for you guys,” he says, looking at Dominick and then Lorenzo. “But I just can’t do it. It’s not for me, but I promise, I will do whatever I can to keep your families safe. Whatever happened to Bri and Mom will never happen again if I can help it.”

“Thank you,” I say to Matteo. “That means a lot to me.”

Matteo clears his throat and nods. “I need to head to the gym. Can we go over shit later?”

Dominick nods, but I can tell he’s not ready to let his brother go, so I say, “Hey, Dom, why don’t you go to the gym? Damien and I are good here.”

“You sure?” he asks.

“Yeah. Just try not to ugly up your face too much.” I shoot him a playful wink, and he chuckles.

“You got it.” He gives me a quick kiss, then kisses Damien on the top of his head. “I’ll be home later. Be good for your mom,” he says to Damien before he and Lorenzo follow Matteo out, leaving Brielle and me alone with Damien.

“So, you’re looking for love, huh?”

She rolls her eyes. “In this town, it’s pretty much impossible. Everyone knows who I am, so they either want to date me to get an in with my brother or because they think it’s a challenge.”

“You could try online dating. They have sites for everyone. I’m sure they have a site for Mafia princesses.”

Nobody ever says that word, preferring to use the term organization , but I think it’s safe to assume that whatever their family is part of, it’s related to the Mafia.

Brielle snorts out a laugh. “Right, and what would they call it? Mafia Dating ‘R’ Us?”

I laugh. “Plenty of Crime.” When she looks at me in confusion, I add, “You know, like Plenty of Fish … Plenty of Crime.”

“There’s a site called Plenty of Fish?” She laughs.

“Yeah, I joined it when I was looking to date a couple of years after Damien was born.”

“And how did it go?”

I scrunch my nose up in disgust, remembering all the losers I went on dates with. “It was filled with a bunch of smelly fish.”