CHAPTER THIRTEEN

brAXTON

G ianna is sitting on my knee as I feed her eggs. I know it's corny but feeling her against my cock is not a bad way to start the day. Her mouth was around it an hour ago, and I still want more of her.

Plus, it gives the impression we're in love, as we claimed. As opposed to being completely in lust.

The truth is, I've never wanted to fuck a woman as much, or as often, as I do Gianna Baldassare.

Waking up a second day felt different from the first. We're faking this relationship—me more than her—and yet it feels as real as it gets between us in those quiet moments.

I crave her.

She wants me.

What more to a relationship is there except love?

Doesn't mean it's not real.

And that scares me more than anything else. I trust myself to stay alive, despite the situation. No one has tried to take my weapons off me. An arrogance on their behalf—or they assume I will not give them up. But turning off my feelings is something I've never been good at.

Some men can fuck women and not feel anything. I may not fall in love with them, but I still feel something. It's chemically impossible not to if you want to get scientific about it.

With Gianna, I'm constantly torn.

She is the daughter of a mobster and claims to not be completely na?ve to the goings on. But she's also a beautiful woman who is a victim to the family she was born into.

Her fate chosen for her.

I sense she wants her freedom and to live and love like the rest of us.

But Italians are loyal to one another. Add in the fact they are a mafia family? Forget it. Gianna knows what is expected of her and if she had to choose between a man and her family, it would always be them.

Her mother, who was chatty and pleasant over breakfast, left us once she had eaten. Her father, I've assumed, starts his day earlier than everyone else.

I didn't want to ask, but I am eager to find out when this next conversation will take place.

"What shall we do today, lover?" Gianna asks as Frank walks into the room.

Salvatore and Dante are with him.

"Jesus Gia, it's not a fucking sex club." Dante shakes his head and pulls out a chair.

"Enough." Frank sits without looking at either of his children and it almost makes me smile. Despite his role, and their ages, he's just a dad.

Gianna gives her brother the bird and climbs off my lap.

Damn it.

She was nice and snug there with her short skirt and long olive tanned legs.

"Braxton, this is my son, Dante. He will one day take over the family business," Frank says as if they are in shipping or own a shoe repair company.

I lean across the table and shake his hand. "Nice to meet you."

It's not.

The Dark Kings and Agent Scott briefed me on the Baldassare heir. He has a dangerous reputation and little is known about him.

"Finish your breakfast and leave us, Gianna," Frank says, and she glances his way in surprise.

"Why?"

The don doesn't say anything, simply watches her with a coolness I almost want to shiver at. Instead, I reach for her, grab her face, kiss her firmly, and say quietly but firmly, "Go."

I know he would never hurt his daughter—perhaps an assumption—but again, I feel this unreasonable need to protect her.

"Don't be long." Gianna runs a hand over my shoulder and uses me to push up as she stands. She then shoots her father a look which is neither cold nor rebellious, but it lacks the love she showed him last night.

It's the first time I see proof of what I have suspected. She is not included in the business dealings of her family and she's resentful.

I wipe my mouth and push my half-eaten breakfast away, then toss back the rest of my coffee. I have a feeling by the heaviness in the room. I'm going to need it.

Dante speaks first. "My father tells me you're a trader."

I nod.

"And that you have a situation you're looking to resolve."

"Correct," I reply.

I have to be willing to walk away today and not succeed. Despite crashing after fucking Gianna multiple times, I had a restless night going over and over how this could play out.

In the end, I had to accept that there's a good chance they'll send me away today.

Or drag this out as a power play to test me.

Which begs the question. How much time do I really have? If any.

Amy could be dead.

I feel bile rising in my throat knowing these men could be responsible for her suffering or even her death.

They are.

Whether directly or indirectly.

The temptation to pull out my gun and hold it against the temple of Frank Baldassare is so fucking huge, but despite my Marine Corps training and strength, I'd likely be dead in under thirty seconds.

The soldiers hovering around in every corner of the house would shoot without hesitation to protect their boss.

The rules are different within the walls of this compound.

Home.

It is a home.

Yet, not like many others in this country.

I've dined with them. I've fucked their daughter. I'm doing a faux business deal with them. It's all so surreal.

"Don't let it fuck with your head," Decker told me. "You're going to feel things you won't want to. You might even like some of the men. Respect them even. Just know that it's a survival instinct inside your mind. You have to departmentalize to do this work. Constantly remind yourself what is real. And what is not."

Nathan had added his thoughts to the conversation. "He's right. You can't hate their guts while pretending to be in partnership with them. Or fucking his daughter. Actors do feel. That's how they pull you into the lie. It's the same thing going undercover."

I'm starting to see what Decker meant. In less than a day, the lines are already blurring, but only when it comes to Gianna.

How he and Nathan did it for six damn years is beyond me. I'm sure they had a serious reason for it.

I push back the conversation and refocus on the three senior gangsters sitting in front of me.

Salvatore is quiet, listening and studying me.

"I have a proposal for you," Frank says. "You need to understand this will mean an end to the relationship with my daughter."

"If he agrees," Salvatore adds.

"Either way." Frank shrugs.

I keep my mouth shut. The urge to tell them that's up to Gianna and me on the tip of my stupid tongue.

I need this deal to find Amy and yet the desire to keep Gianna as mine—when she is not—is tugging at me with a strength which makes no sense.

Christ, I need to stay focused.

So I nod. "I understand. But you need to let me tell Gianna. I do not want to hurt her."

Dante sips his coffee. "From what I hear, you might not be alive by the end of the month if you don't take our deal."

He's very unreadable.

"There are always deals." I smile darkly.

"Your respect for Gianna impresses me, Braxton. Yet they are empty words, and soon she will marry into an Italian family affiliated with ours to build an alliance," Frank says. "Now, let's get on with the business."

As I grind my teeth and try to hide my reaction, I realize I don't need to. I should look fucked off.

I shouldn't be. But I am.

"Are you sure she is in agreement with this?" I ask, unable to let it go.

I can't help myself.

Perhaps it's a good thing. If I let it go too easily it would look suspect.

"Do not mistake Gianna's interest in you for a long-term commitment," Dante says. "Now about the money. We both know that's why you are really here."

Actually, that's not why I'm here.

I can't figure out if they think my relationship with her is fake or not.

Either way I'm genuinely irritated by their demand that our relationship ceases once I agree to this partnership.

I nod.

Because I have no choice.

"We've been looking for a business partner in Europe. The families are difficult. I never considered a middleman, but I am willing to hear how you work and understand the numbers we could be looking at." Frank rests an elbow on the table in front of him, tilting his head.

"We will need references and details to ensure we can trust you and that we are on the same page," Salvatore adds.

Shit.

I have the references. At least I have some in the United States. I'll have to contact Connor and the team to ensure they are prepared for this so soon.

We all thought this could take weeks.

Who knew an invitation by the daughter of a mobster could open doors this fast?

"That's not a problem," I reply. "I don't align with any one family, as I told you last night. Whatever we agree on, I will need to remain independent."

There is silence as the three men consider my demand.

Frank taps his fingers on the table and the air grows thick.

I wonder if it was a step too far.

What does it matter?

All of this is bullshit, anyway.

"You will only work with the Baldassare family in the United States." He finally says and I wriggle my jaw uncomfortably, glancing between the three men for a long moment.

"No."

My response is a calculated risk. Not that calculated, though, as my nervous system is shaking like a motherfucker.

Dante shakes his head and almost laughs. "No one says ‘no' to my father."

Christ, I feel like I'm in The Godfather movie.

"Independent, like I said." I play with my empty coffee mug as if I'm losing interest. When I glance up, I add, "Last night you told me you didn't trade in the same...industry."

When Dante's brows lift, Frank gives me the most terrifying half smile I've ever seen in my life. Then it disappears as quickly as it appears.

Now we are getting down to business.

"Enough with the bullshit," he says loudly, and even Dante reacts. It's only a blink, but I notice it. "You need money, and we need a middleman to connect us with the European trade."

"Then let's do this."

"We have a shipment ready to go, and if you can get us a bigger figure than the Argentinians are offering, then it's yours," Salvatore tells me.

Now it's my turn to blink.

"Carry on." I nod, interested.

"I will give you two hundred million dollars for your exclusive commitment to the Baldassare business for the next two years," Frank says. "If you can provide at least five billion dollars' worth of trade in Europe this year."

I nod really, fucking slowly, as if contemplating it.

It's half the money I told them I owe. That means they assume I can come up with the rest.

"What numbers are we talking for this first shipment?"

"Sixty."

"Tell me about the stock." I know what the answer is before they reply.

We have a shipment ready to go.

"American. Under twenty-five," Salvatore says coldly. "Blue-eyed blondes."

Fuck.

It could be Amy. I wasn't prepared for such a visceral reaction as vomit rises in my throat. I swallow down hard and force myself to not kill these motherfuckers with my bare hands.

Dante is quiet and I wonder how much he is involved or if he's got less power than one would assume.

I find him studying me as I look his way.

"We had a buyer cancel their order, so we need to move them," Frank said, "fast. I need this stock moved this week."

Stock.

Like they are animals.

I lift the almost empty glass of water in front of me and throw it back and try not to shake as I place it back on the table.

It's Amy, it has to be.

Pushing down my hope and rising emotion, I meet Frank's stare and lick my lips as if contemplating the opportunity instead of imagining his painful death.

"I'll make some calls."

"Give me some names of people you've worked with. We need to prove you are who you say you are," Dante says. "Then let's meet back here in three hours."

I stand, wiping my mouth on the napkin and toss it on the table.

"Be very careful about the decisions you make in the next few hours. And do not leave the grounds." Frank orders me.

Fuck that.

I slide my hands into my pockets, confidence pouring from me.

"Mr. Baldassare, if we are to be business partners, I need to make one thing clear. I do not work for you. I am not one of your soldiers, and I am not someone you can control." I darken my stare, knowing a bullet could come my way at any time. "Ever." I glance at all three men. "Do your research. I will make my inquiries. If this doesn't work out for both of us, I will say my goodbyes to Gianna, and you will never see me again."

Powerful men need boundaries.

If I let them control me now, it will only make this situation more dangerous for me.

When the capo's lips stretch into a smile, it tells me he was testing me.

Cunt.

"One o'clock. Meet me in my office." Frank says, lifting his napkin and waving to someone in the corner of the room who appears with a plate of steamy hot food.

How the hell did they do that?

I glance at Dante, and as I walk out, I notice a hint of respect in his eyes. I'm not sure if I should be intrigued by him or really fucking terrified.

There's something off.

My spidey senses are screaming.

Right now, I'm just happy I'm still alive.

While I should be working out who the fuck I call first and having a minor freakout that Amy could be one of the women in this shipment, I can't get Frank's words out of my mind.

Do not mistake Gianna's interest in you for a long-term commitment.

I have no right, but I'm fucked off.