6. Julian

Armande Marzano is only older than me by fifteen years or so. As my mother"s younger brother, she looks after him like she would a son who didn"t choose to stay with their father after the divorce.

In some ways, I envy Armande"s ability to move in the shadows as Don Marzano. However, there"s a point where he has to understand that simply because I"m the CEO of Nuvola Scura, I"m the very embodiment of what that name means. I move like a dark cloud because I"m close enough to my mob family, but my reputation is closer to my corporate life than the criminal side. No one wants the storm that comes with pissing me off, in business or otherwise.

"The businesses you"re buying, not so discreetly, are shaking things up for me, Julian." There"s a bite of anger in his voice, mixing with exhaustion and frustration. As a man in his fifties, Armande shouldn"t be balding, but his life is stressful. The white strands remaining accompany the scars on his face and hands, illustrating a life of hard choices and cold decisions.

"I don"t understand how that information is coming back to me." I tell him. "I have shell companies buying shell companies?—"

He holds a hand up to stop me from talking, circling a finger in the air as if the walls are listening. I sigh and shake my head. "Not in here, Zio. I swear."

He huffs out a breath, emphasizing the fullness of the white handlebar mustache that gives him every bit the look of the villain he plays in real life. The weight he carries around his midsection makes an easy resting place for his massive hands, but it"s a poor way to hide how dangerous he truly is.

"The woman you use to pick up and deliver contracts. She"s bad for business. She thinks it"s cool to bad mouth her boss around people she feels are the same as her. She has no respect, this Douglas woman." His voice is low.

"She"s the best corporate financial manager around."

"That"s your fucking problem, Julian. She"s corporate. She"s not family. If she doesn"t learn to keep her fat fucking mouth shut, someone"s going to shut it for her. What"s the point in having shell companies that buy shell companies to buy a shell company when that bitch blabs that her boss is losing money and they should be goddamn happy he, meaning you, are flinging money their way."

I run a hand over my face. "I didn"t know it was that bad."

"It"s not that bad, yet. For now, it looks like she"s doing work for me to go against Carmine and his people. I don"t have a problem with that because I despise that greasy fuck as much as the next guy, but you? You"re going to have a problem if someone decides to follow her one day. She"s liable to get her throat slit. Tell her to keep this family"s name out of her head and to just do her fucking job. Capiche?"

I nod in agreement.

Armande pushes himself out of his chair, rounding the desk to stand in front of me. I"m a few inches taller than him at 6"2, but still, he reaches around to the back of my head and pulls me in for a hug. He kisses me on the forehead like I"m still his 6-year-old nephew who fell off his bike and scraped his knee.

"And to correct you, sweet Julian. You are not just the man this world needs you to be. You are the man I have raised you to be. Not your weasel of a father, and you know how much I love my sister, but not your conniving mother. Me. You are dangerous because of me. Do not let my love for you cloud your judgment. I will protect this family, even from you."

"You don"t have to worry about me, Armande. I"ll straighten things out. Are you and Ma coming to the party?"

He chuckles. "The, uh, birthday party, for your lady friend?"

"Yes, but there will be opportunities there for the both of us. I"m making sure of it."

"I"ll send your mother, and if things aren"t too hot for me, I"ll make a public appearance. No one wants the mob at their birthday party, Julian. But for you, I will make an exception." He nods, pats me on the back, and walks out of the office.

I peek at Claire"s desk to see my mother sitting there nosing through Claire"s laptop. I walk over and gently close the lid.

"That"s not for you, Ma," I tell her.

She twists in the chair, folding her arms across her chest. "This is how you treat me? I"m here to see you and I have to spend time all alone with nothing to do. When I decide to do some shopping for the brat?—"

"Don"t speak about Claire like that. She"s not a brat and she"s far from spoiled."

"You spoil her with your attention, Julian, and it shows. She had the audacity to talk back to me." She huffs.

"What do you mean talk back to you? What are you talking about? What did you say to her?" I fire off one question after another as I begin to understand the text Claire sent me a while ago.

My mother shrugs as she pushes herself away from the desk. "I told her that it"s time to grow up and make her own way in this world. She gave me attitude, like Derek never used you and your father"s connections?—"

"What the fuck did you say about Derek to her?" Anger like nothing I"ve ever felt rages through me. The need to protect Claire has always been my priority, but I"ve never wanted to protect her more than right now.

The stinging behind my eyes forces me to hold back tears, because only I know what Derek did for my family. It"s the reason that the least I can do for him is watch after his child until she"s the beautiful woman she"s destined to be. It"s why guilt consumes me every time I lust after Claire. She deserves better than me.

My uncle steps in front of me, putting himself between me and Ma so he can get me to calm down.

"Julian. Respect. Bianca, let"s go," he reminds me because every Marzano man understands Marzano women are to be respected. Even when you want to put their face through a wall. Mother or not, I don"t like the way she treats people.

"Armande," she whines. "I was just pointing out that his friends have been using him since he was a little kid. They never deserved access to his money or the power you and his father gave them access to. We"ve been raising Julian as a successor to his father and he needs to get back into the political arena. That little blonde twig is going to ruin his chances at the polls. All the voters are going to see is an older man fucking his secretary on the way to the Governor"s mansion."

"Bianca, shut up because you have no idea what you"re talking about," Armande growls. "Let"s go."

"You"re lucky you"re my mother. Please leave before I say something I regret," I tell her before heading back into my office.

My parents have been working for years to remove themselves from Armande"s reputation as a ruthless gangster. To distance themselves from the Marzano family name and elevate the Blackwell moniker to political royalty. My father killed my mother"s dream early on in his career as a judge. The fix to that is to put me in office. I"m not interested, but that never matters to her. What I want never matters.

I don"t wait for her to leave before I pull out my phone to call Claire. The line goes straight to voicemail, but when I get a call from Bonnie later in the afternoon, I know I need to go to her.

But the minute I"m ready to leave the office, I spot Fiona on her way to the elevator. I walk in right behind her, ensuring we"re alone before I hit the emergency stop button. She"s on her phone talking to someone with a smile on her face that annoys me. I snatch the device out of her hand, ending the call.

"Julian, what the fuck?!" she shouts and looks at the elevator"s panel of buttons. "Why did you stop the elevator? What the hell? That call was about business, business you told me to do."

"Does this business include you telling the sellers you think your boss is an idiot who is stupid enough to throw money at them?" I ask her with anger simmering under the surface.

"Wait, how did you know? I mean, I didn"t say those exact words. I have to tell them what a great deal they"re getting?—"

I cut her off, slamming my hand against the wall beside her face. It startles her, causing her to flinch away from me as my words come out with anger lacing through every syllable. "You do what the fuck I tell you to do. Don"t sprinkle anything else on it. You have no idea what the fuck you"re fucking with. These deals aren"t just run of the mill transactions. There"s a reason I hired you. You"re supposed to be discreet. Somewhere along the way, you"ve forgotten how hungry you used to be."

"That doesn"t make sense, Julian," she whimpers.

"When you"re hungry, you do as you"re fucking told. When you"re complacent," I move my hand up and down like a wand over her torso, "you think you"re above your position, like you"re indispensable. This is your last warning, Douglas. Do what the fuck I tell you to do or find another fucking job."

I press the button for the elevator to start moving again. Fiona sniffles and holds back her tears. She doesn"t understand I"ve probably just saved her life. Her getting rattled in an elevator is a lot less traumatic, a lot less permanent, than ending up in one of Armande Marzano"s meat lockers.

I head home, where Blackwell Manor is a welcome sight. It pains me to know what this day has cost Claire. From my behavior last night, to whatever exchange she had with my mother that sent her scurrying home, she doesn"t deserve my silence and avoidance.

After a shower and change of clothes, I head into the kitchen to make her one of our favorite snacks. Its simplicity is criminal and my parents despise it as low brow, what the kids call a ‘struggle meal'.

When I knock on her door, I hear the voice of her dear mother, Sue-Ellen, telling her bedtime stories. "Can I come in, Claire?"

"It"s your house," she mumbles and I hear the sniffle of her tears.

I push the door open, entering the room I remember Sue and Derek drove me crazy to decorate. I smile at the memories of finding out my best friends were going to have a baby. God, we were babies.

I put the plate on the nightstand beside her massive canopy bed. Claire looks so small inside of it. Her eyes are puffy from tears, but they light up when they see what"s on the plate.

She giggles as she pulls herself up the bed. "Cinnamon toast? Really?"

"With an extra helping of sugar and butter," I tell her. "I need to apologize to you, Claire."

"For what?" She sighs and takes a bite. The way she licks her lips has my mind spinning away from my original reason for coming in here.

"My mother told me a little of what she said to you and she had no right?—"

"She"s right, you know?" Claire says.

"About what exactly? If you think your father used me in any way, shape or form, you"re wrong and my mother has no idea what she"s talking about. Your father saved my life once. We were kids, teenagers and I was in a bad place after my parents" divorce. There was so much shit going on with them."

She puts the plate down to stroke the side of my face. "No, not about my father. About you having to stop your life because you had to take care of me. You don"t date. You don"t go out. All you do is work. Don"t you miss the perks of a relationship, being with a woman?"

Claire moves her hand to my jaw, stroking the side of my chin until her thumb grazes my lips. I can taste the cinnamon sugar as she pulls my lips apart for me to suck on her thumb.

The sounds coming from her throat change the direction of the conversation. She pulls me close to her, looking me in the eyes before dropping her gaze to my lips. When she runs her tongue over her mouth, I can"t stop myself from kissing her.

Once again, I"m giving into my lust, my need to consume her and to protect are overwhelming. I hate how this feels, to be a man who can"t control himself when the woman of his dreams strokes his face.

Our mouths pressing against one another in her bedroom ignite a passion between us that shouldn"t be. The way she understands exactly what to do to get me to ignore all sense of reason has me ready to do her bidding. She doesn"t reach for my dick.

Claire reaches around to run her fingernails against my scalp, holding me close as she tugs my hair while spreading her legs for me in nothing but a long t-shirt. I can smell her sweet pussy calling me, beckoning me to show her what a true apology from me feels like. I have to do that if I"m to stop what I truly want to do to her.

I pull away from our kiss, and push Claire back, gripping her legs to yank them apart and lying between them on my stomach. The pain of my erection fighting against the mattress keeps me focused on what"s in front of me. The soft mound of flesh is as sweet as I imagine when I swipe my tongue between her folds.

To feel her fingers dragging through my strands makes me close my eyes, whispering against her pussy. "I"m sorry, Claire. I need you. I"m so sorry."

I doubt she can hear me over her own moans of satisfaction as my tongue delivers her an orgasm that arches her shoulders back while grinding her hips against my face. She moves as if my tongue can fuck her, but I can only do so much.

My lips capture her clit, sucking on it, kissing it, using my tongue to caress it as I slip one finger and then another inside of her clenching walls. Her breathing quickens as she gasps with short breaths that are soon followed by the trembling of her thighs.

When I"m satisfied that she is satisfied, I move away from her pussy. Normally, I"d push up her shirt to reveal those perky tits, exposing nipples to suck on as I pull my cock out to punish her for making me want to break my streak of abstinence. I want to demolish her pussy in a way that makes us both believe it belongs to me.

Restraint returns to coax reason into taking over. I kiss Claire gently on the lips, tasting the sweet cinnamon sugar flavor of the comfort food I made for her.

"Good night, Claire," I tell her with another chaste kiss.

"Wait, aren"t you going to spend the night, Julian?" she asks with so much worry and fear in her eyes.

"Things will change too much between us if I do. Crossing that line, Claire? There"s no turning back. There are things about me, things you don"t know which will make you look at me differently. I don"t think I"m ready for you to look at me like that."

I kiss her on the forehead before I back away, my erection dying and Claire"s heart breaking for making her go to bed alone.