Anthony Page 5

  “Hmm.” Edna appears to mull his words over. She’s not throwing in the towel so easily. I’m impressed. “You got a job, handsome?”

  Tony’s voice is amused as he says, “Yes, ma’am, I do. I own several nightclubs.”

  It’s all I can do to hold back my laughter as Edna gives him a blank look. “That mean you like to hang out in bars and drink all night? Then call yourself a businessman instead of a player? I like ritzy hotels. Don’t make me a Trump, though.”

  Instead of being offended, I hear Tony choke back his laughter. “Point taken, ma’am. But in this case, I own these businesses, and I’m not a man to overindulge…on alcohol.” The twist of his hips against me once again lets me know what he does want to overindulge in.

  “Probably in debt up to your eyeballs, boy. Why’d you think you needed more than one club? Should have got it off the ground and paid it off before branching out. You want to be like those department stores and mega churches that spring up overnight and then go broke?”

  “I couldn’t agree more,” Tony says evenly. “However, my clubs don’t operate under loans. My father left me wealthy, and I’ve made wise investments. My clubs have operated in the black nearly since the beginning.”

  Instead of lavishing him with compliments, Edna asks, “What’d your daddy do to have all that money? He come from a rich family or work for it?”

  Here it is. His weakness. The one thing he can’t be truthful about. Or so I think. “My father wasn’t the kind of man you’d approve of, Edna. He had his moments of kindness, but his hands and his money were dirty for the most part.” What? Did I just hear that?

  There are a few moments of silence. Edna’s expression has softened slightly. She doesn’t miss a beat. “You planning on following in his footsteps?”

  “No, ma’am,” Tony says firmly. “I am my own man. I may have done things you wouldn’t approve of, but I’m not my father. Never will be.”

  Edna nods once before picking up her order pad. “That’s all I needed to hear, son. You’ll do. Our girl here would run right over a man without some backbone. I had a feeling that wasn’t you but just needed to make sure. Now, you two gonna eat, or what? The football players will be here soon, and they’re a bunch of hungry savages after practice.”

  And I am silent. What. Just. Happened? Edna protected me. Tony claimed me. I’m so lost that I’m struggling to form an answer. I think I convince Edna that I want a coffee and that despite her huffing and puffing, she’s eventually mollified that I have had breakfast. What I ate of it, anyway. Given my small frame, I get why she assumes I eat little. I wish that was the reason why…

  Tony orders an omelet with a side of hash browns, and then we take our tray to a table under a shade tree. For some unknown reason, he indicated we were something in front of Edna, but I mentally prepare myself for his next rejection.

  * * *

  TONY

  I take my time arranging our food on the small bistro table. It’s far from private, but that’s probably for the best. Jacey is more likely to relax her guard here than in her apartment. Fuck, so am I. Those pants, Jesus. I attempt to gather my thoughts as she sips her coffee. I knew we needed to talk, but I had no clear-cut plan in mind. It might be necessary at times to have a workable script in business, but otherwise, I learned long ago to read the situation and go with my gut. I don’t miss the way she keeps darting glances my way. She’s nervous. So am I. Of what, I have no clue. You know. You’ve known since that night. I take a bite of my omelet, and it tastes amazing. Jacey’s lips curve in an amused smile. “Good stuff, right?”

  “Yeah, first rate.” I nod as I continue to eat. “Wouldn’t have pegged you for something so…casual.”

  She doesn’t bother to argue my assumption. Instead, she traces a finger around the top of her cup as she says, “They’ve…been good to me.” She appears almost bewildered as she adds, “They seem to care even though they don’t really know me. Why?”

  I don’t think she’s really expecting an answer, but I give it anyway. “Fuck if I know. Been on the receiving end of that a time or two and never quite knew what to make of it. Always looking for a motive. Because in my world, people have an agenda.”

  “Yeah, mine too,” she says solemnly. I see her mentally shake off her moment of vulnerability and am not surprised when her next words are emotionless and flat. “What’s this about, Tony? I have things to do, so can we skip the small talk?”

  I want to throw the fact that she came to my turf first at her but putting her on the defensive will accomplish nothing. She’s too fucking stubborn. Just like me. “It’s exactly what you wanted, or you wouldn’t have put on that little show last night. We both know you have no intention of contacting any of those idiots who were clamoring to get in your panties. Out of curiosity, are we talking the old-fashioned baby making here?”

  For a moment, I see what looks like panic in her eyes before they’re once again blank. “Hardly. This isn’t the dark ages, Tony. Medical science is far more advanced now. I can have a suitable candidate father my child without having to make physical contact.” Then she purses her lips before giving me a wink. “Although, for the right guy, I might be willing to consider the traditional route. And there certainly wasn’t any shortage of handsome men at your place last night. I put a check mark in the corner of the ones who had the most…potential.”

  Don’t fall for it. She’s playing you. Even as I tell myself that, I grab the fucking bait and, no doubt, give her the satisfaction she’s looking for. “I’ll take anyone apart who touches you. So, if you want that on your conscience, then go ahead and play this little game. Only you will live with the consequences.”

  I calmly resume eating, letting her process my threat. The air around us is thick and charged although outwardly, few would notice. Finally, she says, “You can’t have it both ways, Tony. You know what I want. I came to you first, and you wouldn’t even consider it. So, either you father my child, or I’ll find someone who will. It’s really that simple.”

  Even though I came to give her exactly what she’s demanding, I instinctively want to balk at her ultimatum. No one tells me what to do. I should get the fuck up and walk away once and for all. No good can come of an association between us. And a child? What right do people like us even having reproducing? The kid will be fucked up. Plus, it would tie us together forever—however long that might be. Isn’t that what you want? Haven’t you known she was yours since before you met her? So, for the first time in my life, I let another person dictate my future. This woman before me has the power to do what no one else has. Bring me to my knees. God forbid she ever knows the full scope of her control over me because surely, she’ll use it to her advantage even more than she already is. I push my empty plate away and run a hand through my hair. “I have stipulations, Jacey. And you’re not going to like them. But you want me to be the father of your child, and no matter what bullshit you’ve been shoveling, I know you don’t want anyone else.”

  She surprises me by nodding. “You’re right. There isn’t anyone I want other than you. I made that clear when I asked you. I haven’t changed my mind. I will do whatever necessary to have a child, but I hope you won’t make me go elsewhere.”

  I glance around, seeing no one within hearing distance, but I lower my voice just the same. “I don’t know who my mother is. I was raised by a series of nannies and whoever else my father saw fit to toss in the mix. My upbringing was…unorthodox at best. I won’t allow a child of mine to endure the same.” When she opens her mouth to argue, I hold my hand up, effectively silencing her. “This isn’t negotiable, Jacey. I won’t knock you up, then ride off into the sunset. You wouldn’t have asked me if you thought I was that sort of man.”

  “I handed out applications to strangers in a bar, Tony,” she says dryly. “Maybe you’re giving me a bit too much credit. I’m a woman who knows what she wants and goes after it. You met me the night I killed my father. Surely, you don’t truly believe that a c
ohesive parental unit is important to me?”

  She has a small point. Her look of amusement changes to one of impatience as I deliberately take my time getting comfortable. She hates being kept waiting. Tough shit, Duchess. I even go so far as to wipe the table off with one of the spare paper napkins. By now, she’s ready to throw something at me. Luckily, her coffee cup is empty. “Yes, I think it’s an essential part of your plan. You may have had a father even more fucked up than my own. And a mother who was obviously unhappy while she was alive and then taken from you too soon. You know well how it feels to grow up without what others around you take for granted. You want a child because you need someone to love unconditionally, and you crave that in return. You feel that only an innocent could ever love a woman such as you. You figure that maybe by the time he or she is old enough to know what you did, they will understand you killed him to save yourself.” Her eyes are wide, and I know she’s struggling with my blunt presentation of the facts. Yes, I understand you, Duchess. “Animals are not the only creatures on this earth that do whatever is necessary to survive.”

  “I killed him because he took my mother from me. It wasn’t about survival,” she argues. But I don’t believe her. The slight trembling in her hand on the table is a dead giveaway.

  Eventually, she’ll tell me everything, but this isn’t the time or place. I’m here so she knows my intent to father her child. And assume responsibility for her too. But I’m torn. Is she ready to assume responsibility for a child, though? That’s what I don’t know. “He wasn’t leaving there alive, Jacey. If not you, someone else—”

  “You would have done it,” she murmurs as she studies me. “Why aren’t you angry with me?” She appears almost bewildered now as if this thought has just occurred to her. “I should be behind bars right now or worse, yet you made it all go away. You protected me when I denied you the chance to avenge your father’s death.” She leans closer, and I inhale the fragrance I’ve missed. Honeysuckle. I have no idea if it’s perfume, or simply her, but it’s intoxicating. My cock twitches in reaction to her proximity, and I fight the urge to drop my hand and cover the telltale bulge. Why can’t I control myself around her? Like a kid jacked up on hormones. “Shouldn’t the family have put out a hit on me by now?”

  I grin at the emphasis she places on family even though she’s closer to the truth than I care to admit. If not for the combined directive from Lee and me, both Jacey and her sister might well have met a similar end to their father. When she and Jade witnessed some of the inner workings of the Moretti family, it put them in danger. The family respects Lee and is leery of his ability to deal a serious blow to their financial empire if provoked. And as the only son of their founder, Draco Moretti, I’ve always been given carte blanche to give orders. It’s not that some in power don’t resent it, but they have yet to be stupid enough to act against me. I may have no desire to be an active participant in the daily operations of the family, but I have their back where possible. What none of them are sure of—but probably suspect—is whether Draco kept detailed records of their criminal activity. He was smart enough to know that people were not above biting the hand that fed them. There is enough information to take down the most powerful men in the family. And without them, the rest would eventually fall victim to their own greed and thirst for power. I’ve been fully prepared to make threats if needed to protect Jacey and Jade, but it hasn’t come to that. Yet. I reach out and tap her on the end of the nose. “There’s nothing to worry about, Duchess. This is the real world. Not make-believe.”

  “Duchess?” She frowns in confusion. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “Jax says you remind him of Kate Middleton—as in Duchess of Cambridge—with the new hair color, so he’s nicknamed you Duchess. It fits as far as nicknames go. You do have that royal air about you.”

  “Meaning I’m snooty and uptight,” she huffs out.

  There’s no way I’m going there. A smart man knows when to change the subject, and I like to think I’m an expert in survival, so I quickly divert her attention by getting to my feet. “I need to get to the club. Come by tonight, and we’ll continue our conversation, okay? See if we can lay out the rest of the ground rules.” She surprises me by giving an incline of her head in agreement. I reach down and cup her cheek briefly, rubbing my thumb across the silky skin there before releasing her. I gather the trash from the table and say, “I’ll see you later.” I briefly make eye contact with one of my guys across the street as I walk to my car. She’d be furious if she knew someone was always guarding her. But there are threats all around us, and I have no idea at this point who’s in more danger—her or me. One thing I do know is this: we won’t bring a child into this world until that question is answered and dealt with.

  What is fucking wrong with me? People like us don’t have kids. We are the offspring of monsters and demons. How could we sanction adding more to the mix?

  My mood darkens as I acknowledge the truth. I’ve given her my word, but I’ll attempt to drag this out until Jacey comes to her senses and realizes the same thing. What if she doesn’t change her mind? Fuck. Then God help us both because He’s about the only hope our kid will have of being normal.

  4

  Jacey

  I dress in a pair of well-worn Levi’s and a floral halter top. I study my reflection in the mirror, deciding it’s the right mix of sexy and casual. After the whole “Duchess” comment earlier, I refuse to give him the satisfaction of showing up in a business suit. That comment stung, which is silly considering it’s true—at least on the outside. My father groomed me from a young age to work alongside him at Wrenn. And he wasn’t a man who approved of dressing in trendy clothing. He said more than once that I had to overcome the “handicap of being a woman.” Being the poor replacement for a son chipped away at my heart year after year until there was nothing left to salvage. No wonder he couldn’t marry me off to someone who would have benefited him more. Sadly, that would have probably been a better option for me. Unfortunately, he learned I was more useful as a bargaining chip than a giveaway.

  Will the burning hate I feel for him ever go away? I’ve asked myself this question so many times over the past year. He’s dead, yet with each month that passes, my anger seems to grow instead of decline. I was on autopilot while he was alive. I hadn’t given myself the leeway to feel anything. It was easier to remain blank. But now he’s gone, and everything I’ve kept bottled up inside me is threatening to explode. Going into his office at Wrenn makes my skin crawl so much that I’ve seriously debated burning the damn building to the ground. Moving the headquarters is the easier answer, but nowhere near as satisfying as watching Dad’s pride and joy go up in flames.

  I’m not completely out of touch with reality. I know I need help of the professional variety. But even with the patient-doctor confidentiality rule, there’s no way I can tell the truth. Murder more than likely voids that rule. And even if it didn’t, I’d never trust a stranger with that kind of information. If you can’t unburden yourself, then why bother offering a little? Which leaves me where I’ve been for so very long—on my own.

  He’s giving you what you want.

  I still can’t quite believe Tony’s giving in this easily. I was prepared for harsh words at the very least over the scene at his club. But he barely made mention of it. Too easy. Why? He owes me nothing, least of all something of this magnitude. Yet he sat across from me this morning and calmly stated that if we have a child, we’ll raise him or her together. Isn’t that what you’ve wanted all along? Of course, I’ve had the whole white-picket-fence fantasy a few times, but they usually end in laughter. He is the son of mafia royalty, and I certainly won’t win anyone’s vote for PTA president.

  Jade has it all. Why not me? Haven’t I paid my dues?

  I wonder not for the first time if that’s why I want this so badly. Having a baby won’t make you Jade. No, it won’t. Nothing and no one who can take away the things I’ve done. Nor will a man ever love
me in the way Lee does her. Despite his refusal to sleep with me, I know Tony wants me. But I seriously doubt he’s capable of that type of devotion. And if he were, it would be for a woman like my sister. One who has lived a normal life and isn’t used goods.

  If he finds out…

  That’s the real monster that frightens me. No matter how many times I tell myself that I’m afraid he’ll find out before he gives me what I want, I know it’s bullshit. I don’t understand the connection between us, but I feel like someone when he looks at me. It makes me believe there is hope. That I can find my own happiness.

  I attempt to shrug off my melancholy mood as I slip my feet into a pair of low-heeled sandals and pick up my purse. The drive to Tony’s club takes a bit longer thanks to the weekend traffic. Asheville is a popular tourist destination, and every year, the crowds increase. I love my beautiful city, though, and can’t imagine living anywhere else.

  Nyx is packed when I arrive, so I’m grateful they offer valet parking. I hand over my keys to a smiling, muscular guy. He gives me a flirty wink, and I fight the urge to roll my eyes. I’m old enough to be his…older sister. He’s probably used to scoring big tips by making women feel good. You’re so barking up the wrong tree, kid. Even knowing this, I still hand him a twenty, and a smile tugs at my lips at his effusive thanks. When did I become so jaded? The poor guy is probably trying to put himself through college. Despite being just after nine, a long line already winds down the sidewalk. I stand there uncertainly, not knowing what to do. Tony might be expecting me, but does that give me VIP status here? A few of the women narrow their eyes at me when I don’t immediately fall into place behind them. I nearly jump out of my skin when a hand lands on my shoulder. “Hey, Duchess…er…Jacey. Tony told me to look out for you.”