Page 14 of Twisted Trust (Mafia Lords of Sin #10)

MAEVE

I have no idea what came over me.

It was like past me surged up and possessed me for every second of that wonderful encounter with Levi.

All my determination to avoid him, all my walls of protection just crumbled the moment he kissed me and this incredible yearning for old times surged up, like the cresting swell in the ocean.

I couldn’t stop myself from caving to every kiss and every touch.

I’m weak.

How could I just give myself back over to a man like that? After everything he’s done? After the fear he induced in me and the countless tears I shed over him? Am I really so weak that just one kiss makes me toss it all to the wind like it doesn’t matter?

I try not to think too deeply about it while standing under the incredible water pressure from the shower, but every droplet of water kisses one of the marks and bruises Levi left on my skin so I can’t escape the reminders.

My neck and chest are decorated in little red and purple marks, my hips ache from the intensity of his fucking, and deep down in my core, the embers of desire flare each time I subconsciously picture his hands on my waist or around my neck.

I scold myself each time my thoughts wander to how good it was to be in his arms again, to feel the heat of his body radiating against mine and the power of his strength manipulating my body in the most erotic ways.

I wash the shampoo from my hair, twisting my locks under the water, and for a brief moment, hope flares in my chest that somehow, Levi might join me.

I’d be just as weak now as I was last night.

I wouldn’t say no to just one more kiss.

And that’s why I have to hate him. This hold he has over me has me crumbling already, and I’ve been in his presence less than twenty-four hours. We didn’t even talk properly afterward because I was so desperate to put distance between us.

Shaking Levi from my thoughts the best I can, I finish my shower quickly and dry myself off with one of the large, fluffy towels hanging from the railing.

Peeking into the bedroom as I re-dress in my jeans and T-shirt, alarm pulses through me like a shot of adrenaline to see the door open and Scott nowhere to be seen.

“Scott!”

I’d left him playing on the floor with my phone, but it lies abandoned on the floor and my son is nowhere to be seen.

With my hair still soaked and no shoes, I snatch up my phone and bolt from the room.

There’s no sign of Scott in the hallway but just as I take a break to yell his name once more, his familiar laughter drifts through from the study I peeked into last night.

Barefoot, I sprint down the hall to the doorway and spot Scott just inside laughing heartily at cartoons playing on the large screen TV.

He clutches a small carton of orange juice in one hand with the straw dangling off to the side and he rocks back and forth from his toes to his heels as he watches.

But he’s not the most amusing sight in the room.

Levi is.

He stands near the window like a stiff marble statue with a hawk-like gaze locked onto Scott.

Dressed in black slacks and a white T-shirt that’s clearly a size too small, Levi’s forearms bulge slightly from how tightly he crosses his arms. A slim vein runs from his wrist to his elbow, following the curve of his arm, and my mouth is suddenly dry.

He has a vein like that on his cock and I hate that I’m reminded of that in this moment because Levi’s face and stature also remind me of the first few times I watched Scott walk.

It’s a gaze born out of fear that the slightest thing could go wrong. I never expected to see it on Levi’s face. Who knew he cared so much?

Would he care more if he knew the truth?

In this moment, with Scott laughing his heart out and Levi watching him with such focused concern, I’m tempted.

How different would things be if I told Levi that Scott was his son?

Would that amplify the concern he’s clearly feeling, or would it drag us back to four years ago when I was told Levi wanted nothing more than to see me and my baby dead?

“Scott!”

“Mommy!” Scott drags himself away from the screen and rushes toward me. I catch him and remove the orange juice carton from his hand in time to stop his fist from squeezing orange juice onto the pristine white floor.

“Hi, baby! I told you to wait for me to shower.” Scooping him up into my arms, I see that Levi visibly relaxes and steps away from the window.

“I was hungry,” Scott complains softly. “Mister Levi gave me some cereal and look!” He gestures wildly to the brightly colored cartoons playfully fighting each other on screen.

“Cartoons!” He laughs in delight and bounces in my arms, which brings more relief than I can express.

There’s no telling what the effect of the last ten or so days will have on him, so I’ll take the laughter.

“Cereal, huh?” I peer past Scott’s mop of curls to Levi, who shrugs one shoulder and shoves his hand into his pocket.

“Seemed like a safe bet.”

“Lucky he’s not allergic.”

“I know he’s not.”

“How?”

“Hospital records,” Levi says as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

Tension snaps down my spine like a ruler. “You mean private hospital records?”

Levi holds up his other hand in surrender while a soft, knowing smile plays across his lips. “I didn’t read anything. I just called to make sure there was nothing here that could give him an allergic reaction. You’re welcome.”

“You could have asked ,” I snap gently, fighting to keep my voice level in front of Scott.

“Oh, so you wanted me to come see you in the shower?” His dark brows bounce playfully, and I turn away abruptly to hide the heat flaring across my cheeks.

Scott complains immediately at no longer being able to see his cartoons and wiggles in my arms, but I keep a firm grip of him and carry him toward the kitchen.

“I’m assuming it’s fine for me to leave?” I ask as we enter the kitchen. A small blue bowl of nearly finished cereal sits on one of the counters next to an empty cup with coffee stains and the crusts of toast on a plate. Levi still doesn’t eat his crusts.

A grown man who kills people on the daily but can’t stand the tough outer crust of bread. It almost doesn’t make sense.

“You can leave as long as I go with you,” Levi says, following me.

Setting Scott down on the stool, I sit next to him and keep one hand on his lower back while handing him my phone to play with once more. At least Levi appears to be keeping things pleasant in front of Scott, so I try to use that to my advantage.

“What if I want to leave on my own?”

“Where could you possibly need to go?”

My eyes narrow. He might mean it as a genuine question, but it stings to hear the subtle disbelief in his voice. “I have places to go. People to see.”

“Like who?”

“Well, I need a change of clothes, for starters. So does Scott. All of his toys and more are back at my apartment.”

“No, they’re not.” Levi braces both hands on the opposite counter and leans forward an inch. I lock onto his eyes and utterly refuse to look at the way his muscles flex and strain at the position, or how some of his hair sweeps down from his hairline and kisses his forehead when he tilts his head.

“What do you mean? Where’s my stuff?”

“I had your apartment emptied of important stuff. It’s on its way here. Your place isn’t safe until we find Cameron.”

“Uncle Cameron?” Scott perks up immediately and looks up at me with his wide, golden eyes. “Is he okay?”

Rubbing his back, I smile strongly. “Do you think he’s okay?” I ask softly, prying gently. “Was he okay the last time you saw him?”

Scott shrugs and his face falls. “He was sad,” he says with a sniffle.

“He was sad and told me to go with his friend and then he’d come and get me if I was good, so I tried, but he…

but he never did.” His face crumples slightly and when he blinks, tears flood his eyes. “Did they leave me because I was bad?”

“Oh no, honey, not at all!” Abandoning all thought of everything else, I pull Scott into my lap and hug him tightly while he sniffles.

“You weren’t bad at all. Uncle Cameron just…

” I end up looking at Levi for help, searching for what kind of excuse I can give that won’t break my four-year-old’s heart.

“Uncle Cameron got lost,” Levi says suddenly. “You know how easy that is, don’t you?”

Scott nods, rubbing at his eye while he sniffles.

“But don’t worry, that’s why I’m here. I’m so great at hide and seek, so I’m going to find Uncle Cameron, and in the meantime, you and your mommy get to stay here until Uncle Cameron comes to collect his prize. Doesn’t that sound fun?”

“Yeah,” Scott whines, hiccupping while I rub his back. “Okay.”

“Actually.” Levi pushes off the counter and smirks. “I have the best idea.”

Levi’s idea involved taking Scott and me to a local mall where we spent the better part of two hours shopping for new clothes and toys.

Part of me detested that Levi had so much money to splash around and he didn’t look at the price tag of anything, but that hatred melted away when it came to buying things for Scott.

I decided if we’re going to be stuck with him for a while, then I was going to make sure my son had the best that money could buy.

We bought new toys, new clothes, a fancy coloring set, and even two game consoles with a mix of fun and educational games.

Scott was smiling from ear to ear by the time Levi’s men loaded up the cars to take it all back to the penthouse, but Levi wasn’t finished there.

From the mall, we went for lunch at a burger bar and Scott tasted his very first pickle.

The most disgusting thing he’d ever tasted in the end, and his reaction was hilarious once he got over the shock of how slimy it was.

From there, we spent the afternoon at the Adventure Dome at Circus Circus.

Scott tasted his first piece of cotton candy and we experienced his first rollercoaster together, a gentle pirate ship that rocked back and forth, but Scott loved it so much, we went on it six more times before evening fell.

By the time the stars burst across the night sky, Scott was thoroughly exhausted and had thankfully forgotten everything about Uncle Cameron. If that was Levi’s goal, then he succeeded, but I suspected there was more to it. More than once, I caught Levi watching Scott with warmth in his eyes.

Back at the penthouse, I put Scott to bed after dragging his exhausted form through a quick shower and head out to the lounge where Levi waits with two glasses of red wine.

“I shouldn’t drink,” I say, declining the glass with a raised hand. “I have to take Scott to school tomorrow… which, speaking of, can you get my car back?”

“Take one of mine,” Levi says, setting my glass down while sipping from his own. “Donald will take you.”

“I don’t need an armed escort to take my son to school.”

“No, you need an armed escort because you’re my fiancée.”

“ Fake fiancée.”

“If enough people believe it, then it becomes the truth.”

Rolling my eyes, I move past Levi toward the balcony, but he catches me by the forearm and jerks me back toward him. Our eyes meet and his lids droop slightly as his eyes wander past my gaze down to my lips and then further to where my cleavage sits nestled in one of the new bras he bought me.

“It’s gross to stare,” I mutter as warmth rushes to my cheeks once more.

“You didn’t mind me staring last night.”

“Last night was a mistake.”

“Was it?” Levi’s arm snakes around my waist and he pulls me close, then he’s leaning in and kissing me with as much hunger as he did last night.

I can’t fall for it again. Not a second time. “No, Levi,” I groan, placing both hands on his chest and pushing him away. “It can’t happen again.”

Levi grunts softly and slowly licks his lower lip. “Can’t or won’t?”

“ Both .”

“Are you trying to persuade yourself or me?”

Increasing the pressure, I push further, and Levi’s arm slackens around my waist. “You. One hate fuck is enough, don’t you think?”

“Oh, last night was a hate fuck. Could have fooled me.” He snorts softly.

“That’s just like you,” I snap, finally escaping his hold and instantly craving his touch the moment his lingering hand sweeps away from my waist. “You’re always reading the wrong signs.”

“Am I—” Levi cuts himself off immediately and the soft, teasing glow in his face fades as his attention snaps to the door. A second later, a soft ding sounds from the elevator.

How did he know that was going to happen? He must have a sixth sense for these sorts of things.

I smooth my hands down my blouse just in time for the approaching footsteps to reach the door, and in walks an elderly man with graying hair combed back from his round face, his stocky form poured into an exceptionally well-tailored pinstripe suit.

Levi suddenly straightens up. “Father.”

Father ?

Oh, shit. It’s Elio Gallo.