Page 12 of Twisted Trust (Mafia Lords of Sin #10)

MAEVE

“ M ommy ?”

Something stirs within my chest, a weight that coils and uncoils while trying to drag me back to the land of consciousness.

“ Mommy !”

Scott’s voice is like a shot of adrenaline to my heart and my eyes snap open to the face of my four-year-old floating above me, softly illuminated by the orange glow from the bedside lamp. My arms immediately circle him and pull him close.

“Mommy!” Scott whines, pushing his small fists against my shoulder. “I have to go!”

“Go?” Sitting up slowly, I briefly glance around the room.

This bed is almost double the size of the one back at my apartment and the sheets are so soft that they barely feel like there’s any weight to them.

An ornate wardrobe hugs one corner next to a large window where thick, red drapes close out the world.

A white door sits ajar directly across from the bed where I glimpse the shine of a mirror, and to my left is another door firmly closed.

Where am I? Levi’s place? It must be, although I don’t remember getting out of the car. Fighting a yawn, my attention returns to my son as he squirms in my arms and yawns so widely I can see all the way down his throat.

“What is it, baby?”

“I gotta go!” he says insistently, and one hand disappears between his legs just as it clicks.

“Okay, sweetie, let’s go find the bathroom.

Come on.” Luckily, he shares the same desire to be close to me and doesn’t fight me when I slide from the bed and scoop him up into my arms. As I suspected, the ajar door leads to an intimidatingly large en-suite bathroom.

It might be the same size as my living room, which is rather ridiculous to think about.

A large bathtub hugs one wall, a walk-in shower rests in the far corner next to the sink and mirror, and adjacent to that is the toilet.

As soon as Scott spots it, he wriggles out of my arms and hurries toward it with tired, wobbling steps. “Where are we?” he asks, rubbing tiredly at his eye.

“We’re staying with a friend,” I say gently, lifting the toilet seat and then helping Scott up to sit comfortably.

“Uncle Cameron?” As I stand, he clings to my hand with both hands, so I return to a crouched state in front of him and gently pat his cheek.

“No, a different friend.”

“Oh… ‘kay.” He yawns again, just as wide as before, then focuses on doing his business. My attention drifts around the bathroom, from the gold taps to the shell-shaped washbowl and the shimmering aqua tiles that appear to move like the ripples of waves every time I blink.

That has to be because I’m exhausted, right?

After Scott finishes, I scoop him up onto my hip and together we wash our hands in the fancy sink.

As the soap suds run from his fingers, his head starts to droop and all budding thoughts of asking him what happened to Uncle Cameron fade for later.

He’s clearly still so exhausted, and I’d much rather he sleep.

“I like it,” Scott says, leaning closer to the tap and swishing his hand back and forth under the warm water. “Can we get these at… at home?”

He turns his rosy face to me and grins, and in an instant, all my stress momentarily melts away.

After everything he’s been through, he still has a smile for me.

I can’t word the fear that grips me almost constantly that his time away from me will make him feel abandoned, or worse.

So many online blogs and books tell me not to stress about these things and that kids won’t start remembering stuff until they’re five, but I don’t believe it.

The harder I try to succeed, the harder I fail. In the space of ten days, Scott has witnessed me being attacked in the car park and then whatever horrors he saw with Cameron. Cupping his face, I kiss his warm forehead and pull him close. “I love you, Scotty. You know, that don’t you?”

“I love you too, Mommy,” Scott replies with another yawn.

As I carry him back through to the bedroom, he grows heavier in my arms. Now that he doesn’t need to pee anymore, it seems sleep is loudly calling him and he doesn’t have the strength to resist. He’s asleep before his head touches the pillow, and I tuck him in neatly, then sit on the edge of the bed beside him.

I’m awake now. Nothing wakes me up faster than a cry from Scott, and now that I know I’m in a strange place, I’m on the defensive.

Levi told CPS that we’re engaged. As far as they’re concerned, he’s an important man in my life and the only thing standing between me and losing my son forever. But why did he do that? To keep me close and control me? To hold this over me and twist me into doing something I don’t want to do?

When I knew him five years ago, Levi wasn’t manipulative.

He was cold and direct, which was part of his allure when he approached me on that party yacht.

He went direct for the ‘you’re hot and I want to fuck you’ approach, which was rather refreshing.

An older man interested in little old me just trying to scrape by in life was something out of a dream, and I was immediately hooked on him.

His violent lifestyle was just the sexy garnish on top.

But my greatest love became my greatest threat and now I’m back in his clutches just to save my son. It’s fucked up how things work out.

I watch Scott sleep for around twenty minutes until curiosity gets the better of me.

If I can get a layout of this apartment, then I’ll be ready for anything that could happen and know where to keep Scott away from.

Lightly kissing his forehead, I run my fingers through his silky, soft hair and ease myself away from the bed.

The door opens onto a long hall that stretches from the elevator doors to my left to glass doors all the way at the end on my right, which lead to what looks like some kind of balcony.

The entire penthouse is silent so I rise up onto my tiptoes as I move down the hall and peek into doors one by one.

One leads to a small office where the screensaver on the monitor bounces around and radiates a swirling pattern onto the wall.

Another leads to a bedroom where everything is so pristine and white that it looks more like a showroom than a place a real person sleeps.

The next door I investigate leads into a large kitchen that’s so large I’m pretty sure it would take me at least thirty seconds to reach the other side.

Gleaming granite counters line two walls, broken up by a large grey sink with a tall black spout, a microwave built into one of the upper cabinets, and a fridge that’s alarmingly taller than me.

The island counter is surrounded by six circular black stools all neatly tucked underneath.

I can’t fathom what a place like this costs.

As I turn to leave, a soft, sharp inhale catches my attention.

Walking deeper into the kitchen, a large archway to my right leads into a lounge area where Levi sits with his back to me.

Just the sight of him is enough to send my heart into my throat.

He’s topless and miles of thick, rippling muscles stretch across his shoulders and down the arms I sought comfort in earlier.

Or maybe it was yesterday. I have no idea how long I’ve been asleep, but the sky beyond the windows is still a dark blue.

I either slept a few hours or a full day.

Levi’s head dips forward and he hisses softly, busy with something in his lap that I can’t see.

I should leave him to it.

I’m about to turn and leave when he lifts his head and seemingly stares out the window in front of him. “Not going to say hi?”

I freeze like a deer in headlights until I realize he can see my reflection in the window. I feared he had some alarming sixth sense to my presence. “I don’t want to disturb you.”

“You’re not disturbing me.” Levi slowly turns to look at me over his shoulder and as he moves, I glimpse what’s in his lap.

Or rather what’s on the table in front of him.

A small bowl of pink water sits next to several bloodied balls of cotton.

An uncapped tube of antiseptic cream rests against the glass bowl, and there’s a small closed medical kit just on the other side.

My worry spikes and I’m moving closer before I can stop myself, like the old me who had such concern for this man is taking over. “Levi, what happened?”

He grunts softly and flexes out his injured hand. The flesh along his knuckles is split and warped amid several cuts. Some are still bleeding. He holds a bloodied cotton ball in his other hand as our gazes meet. “It’s nothing.”

“It’s obviously not nothing.” He’s doing a terrible job of patching himself up if the twisted, discarded bandages on the other side of the medical kit are anything to go by. He was always terrible at taking care of himself. Some things never change.

“Here, let me.” Be it pity or sympathy, I end up perched on the table with his injured hand resting on my thigh while I clean up the worst of the cuts with a fresh cotton ball.

My movements are much gentler than his own so it doesn’t take long for the wounds to finally stop bleeding.

“Are you going to tell me what happened?”

“I had to talk to some people.”

“About?”

“Scott.”

My hands pause as I glance up at him through my lashes. “Why?”

“Isn’t it obvious? A kid is dumped on the Strip.

Someone saw something, so I’ve been trying to find out who they are and what they saw.

” Levi grimaces slightly as my grip briefly tightens on his fingers.

“A lot happens down there that no one sees but it’s my job, and my people’s job, to make sure shit like that doesn’t happen. ”

Why does he care? There’s unexpected heat in his words as if he has some personal stake in this. Has he worked it out? Does he realize that Scott is his son and the baby he so desperately wanted to kill four years ago? If so, then why does he care what happened?

I can’t think of anything to say that won’t alert him to the spiral of my thoughts so I stay quiet until his knuckles are fully clean and it’s time to bandage them.

“How are you?” Levi asks after a few minutes of silence. When I look up at him, he immediately looks away. “After yesterday, I mean.”

“I’m fine.”

“How’s Scott?”

I pause with the bandage looped around his thumb. “He’s tired. I don’t think it’s hit him yet.”

“Kids are resilient.”

“Speaking from experience?”

“No, but… that’s what they say, right?”

“Are you trying to comfort me?” The bandage weaves back and forth between his fingers, across his knuckles, and then down to his palm.

“Is it working?”

“It’s a little cliché but… maybe.” It’s almost a normal conversation. “I don’t want you to think I’m taking advantage, so as soon as I get my new card from the bank, I’ll pay you for room and board.”

“What?” Levi sounds adorably confused so I pause my work and meet his eyes.

“My card? I was mugged, remember? I had to call the bank and cancel my cards so what little money I have didn’t get swiped. So I have to wait for a new one and then I can pay you.”

“I understand that part,” Levi says, and his rough yet warm fingers flex briefly in my palm. “But why would you pay me?”

“I’m not getting into debt with you, Levi. I know how you people work.”

“ You people .”

“Yes. You people. You bleed crime, literally. I don’t need a Mafia debt shadowing me until my death, thank you.”

“Maeve—”

“But that doesn’t mean I’m not grateful,” I add quickly, fighting not to get distracted by how Levi’s mouthwatering abs flex subtly each time he takes a breath.

“Ensuring Scott stays with me is… huge. I can’t ever repay that, but I am grateful.

It would be nice if we knew how long we had to lie for, but I swear, Hillary has it out for me. She has for months.”

“Hillary… will probably take her time evaluating everything,” Levi replies quietly. “But I’m good to help for as long as needed.”

Tucking the last tail of the bandage in on itself, I finish wrapping his knuckles and pat the back of his hand. “Why? What do you even get out of something like this?”

“Well…” Levi sighs softly. “Your presence as my fiancée will help with a few business deals and might even smooth over a few concerns my father has, so don’t worry. This isn’t a completely selfless act.”

“Oh, I never thought it was.” I snort. “You still want me dead, I still hate you for pretending to be dead. I doubt there’s a selfless thought left between us.”

Levi’s expression changes suddenly and the strangest look forms in his eyes.

He leans forward and with him comes a waft of the spicy, caramel cologne he must have slapped on earlier.

Breathing it in, I’m suddenly dragged back to a distant memory of breathing it deeply as he carried me somewhere. Is that how I got from the car to here?

“That’s not the first time you’ve said something like that,” Levi murmurs. “Why do you keep saying that?”

My brow twitches. “Saying what?”

“You… thought I was dead?”

“Why is that even a question?” I snort softly, standing from the table.

“I thought you were dead for a whole year because for whatever reason, you pretended to be. After that deal that failed, the one everyone got so furious about? And when I found out you were alive, all I got in return was a warning that you were out for blood. Why are you acting like this is news? Have you hated me for so long that you forgot why?”

Levi doesn’t answer. He stares straight up at me with his gorgeous, honey-gold eyes darting back and forth.

“Whatever. You should change the bandage every couple of days so it doesn’t get infected. One of those cuts looked pretty deep.”

I make it half a step away before Levi’s strong hand circles my wrist and he jerks me sharply back toward the table.

I stumble with a short, surprised cry, but just as my lips part to demand what the hell he’s playing at, his other hand cradles the side of my neck with his thumb aligning with my jaw.

My question surges in my throat but it’s silenced when Levi’s plush, warm lips crash into mine. He kisses me so hard that stars explode in front of my eyes and suddenly, I’m 22 again, standing on the deck of a luxury Yacht as Levi steals my first kiss.