Surprise Baby for the Don (Dark Daddies #2)

Chapter 9

9

Ginny

M y anxiety is dialed up to eleven as I follow Mateo out into the hallway. Before I can argue with him any more about the shopping trip, though, he’s disappeared around the corner, and I’m swarmed by the twins. It’s strange how they’re always around, always at Mateo’s beck and call. Now they flank me, guiding me through the penthouse and out to the front of the building where the black car is once again waiting for me.

“This really isn’t necessary,” I protest as they try to usher me into the car. “I can just go home and get my things; a shopping trip is too much.”

Bats grunts, and Red simply replies with a solid, “no.”

I’m starting to realize that arguing with either of them is futile, maybe even funny at this point. They follow whatever Mateo says, and there’s no changing the plans without his say-so. Mateo said we’re going shopping, so we’re going shopping.

Reluctantly, I slip into the car after Bats, while Red gets into the driver’s seat and takes off. Bats completely ignores my presence, staring straight ahead as we pull away, winding our way down the busy streets of Chicago. Mateo lives in a much nicer part of town than I do, and I rarely get treated to such nice views.

I relax against the cool leather of my seat, until we reach a shopping district that I’ve only gotten to see in TV shows. Silly me for thinking we’d be shopping at a mall. Of course Mateo has sent us to an area of town where my entire month’s salary would barely buy me one shoe.

My stomach drops as we pass designer stores and elegant boutiques. I look back down at my now wrinkled skirt and off-white blouse. Compared to the women walking on the street, I look downright dumpy. I sigh as Red parallel parks and Bats turns to stare at me, waiting for me to get out of the car.

I look between them, pleading. “This is far too much,” I complain. “I’m more of an off-the-rack girl, we can just find an outlet mall. I know of a really good one on the other side of town. Maybe even a Macy’s if there’s still any in business around here!”

Bats leans across me, opening the door for me, then unfastens my seatbelt. He gestures for me to get out, and when I turn, Red is already there, waiting for me.

“Mr. Rossi instructed us to bring you here,” he says simply. “So this is where we’re shopping.”

The boutique is intimidatingly luxurious, marble floors and gold accents everywhere. There’s a giant chandelier hanging in the middle of the room, but I notice there aren’t any clothes out on the floor. My heart skips in anticipation, realizing this is the kind of place where stylists bring you options they’ve picked out for you. Never in my wildest dreams could I imagine I’d be shopping at a place like this.

As I suspected, the woman at the desk stares at me with a look of barely concealed contempt, but the way she’s eyeing Red and Bats tells me she’s choosing her words very carefully. I probably looked like a dumpster fire in her eyes.

Red approaches her with zero self-consciousness and delivers a line he’s clearly been told to repeat.

“Mateo Rossi says to, ‘Dress her like she’s the most important woman in the room.’”

The way the woman’s face immediately changes tells me that she knows who Mateo is and she isn’t going to disappoint him. She nods and motions for me to follow her. I look to Red and Bats, who are clearly bored out of their minds, and I already know there’s no point in arguing. I follow the woman back into a large private dressing area with a pedestal in the middle that faces several mirrors.

She asks me if I’d like a glass of champagne, and I can only nod, already feeling lightheaded. When she returns, she’s flanked by two other staff members who are each carrying an armful of clothes for me to try on. They hang the clothes up on a metal rod jutting out of the wall, as the first woman hands me my champagne.

“Erik and Bridgette will take care of you for the duration of your appointment,” she tells me. “Should you need anything else, there is a button just here that you can push.”

I nod and thank her before she disappears, leaving me to the capable hands of the stylists.

Before I know it, the two are bustling around me, helping me into designer outfits that I absolutely could not afford without taking out a second mortgage on Pop’s apartment. Bridgette brings over a sleek black dress, while Erik suggests a silk blouse paired with tailored pants. I try on each piece, feeling as though I’m being transformed into a classier, more refined version of myself.

It’s strange being dressed by two strangers like I’m a doll. They barely look at me, though, more focused on the fit of each piece. They’re critical of the clothes, laser focused on how this dress hides my curves or that blouse falls too far down my waist. They don’t give me a moment to feel self-conscious, instead zooming back and forth to find pieces that fit me perfectly and accentuate all the right areas.

The final outfit they choose for me is unlike anything I’d ever pick out for myself. It’s a tailored dress in a deep emerald green, perfectly fitted to my shape, with elegant black heels to match. I look in the mirror, and for a moment, I don’t recognize the woman staring back. Bridgette catches my expression and smiles.

“You look like you could run the world,” she says, adjusting a stray strand of my hair.

I don’t know if I’m ready to run the world, but I do feel powerful and polished. Like a version of myself I’ve only dreamed of. But it didn’t feel authentic. It didn’t feel like me.

I thank Bridgette and Erik and ask if I can wear the outfit out of the store. I had an act to keep up I suppose. They agree, hanging up the outfit I walked in wearing and zipping it into a garment bag that’s already filled to the brim with the other outfits they’ve deemed perfect. As I’m exiting the dressing room, Erik whispers to me that I should burn that outfit, and I can’t help but giggle. Maybe it’s the champagne.

When Red and Bats see me, they nonchalantly nod in approval, and I watch as Red hands the woman a black credit card. Bats takes the garment bag from Erik and leaves us to hang it in the car. My stomach growls and I realize I’m actually looking forward to having lunch with Mateo. I want to see what he thinks, to gain his approval, even if these weren’t exactly my choices.

I’m surprised when we leave the boutique and don’t get back into the car. Instead, Red leads me to a chic salon a few doors down. When we walk inside, two women are standing at an empty station and they light up when they see me. I realize this must have been prearranged and can’t help but blush when I remember that I told Mateo I hadn’t had time to put on mascara this morning.

“You have twenty minutes,” Red tells them smoothly. “Do what you can.”

Of course I want to immediately protest, but I’m maneuvered into the chair and handed yet another glass of champagne. The women work fast and furiously, and when they turn me toward the mirror, I see that they’ve used their time efficiently. My wild hair has been tamed into sleek, cascading waves down my back, and my makeup is natural and subtle. I’m grateful they didn’t turn me into a full beat beauty pageant queen.

Red collects me and we’re soon back in the car, zipping through traffic until we reach an upscale restaurant a few blocks away. It’s the kind of place that doesn’t even have a sign outside, and likely has a waiting list for months. An hour ago, I wouldn’t feel confident enough to walk through the doors, but now I feel like I belong, and I want everyone to know it.

As we’re about to head inside, Red suddenly stiffens. He’s looking around, his eyes narrowing. “Something’s not right,” he murmurs, his tone serious.

I freeze, my pulse kicking up a notch. “What do you mean?”

Red turns to Bats, his voice low but commanding. “Stay in the car with her. I’ll check things out.”

Bats doesn’t look thrilled with this arrangement, but he pulls me back into the car without argument. As we sit there, he grows more anxious. He grips the door handle so hard his knuckles go white.

“Bats,” I start, but he doesn’t meet my gaze.

“Damn it, I’m not waiting out here,” he grumbles, shooting out of the car like he’s on fire. I watch as he runs to the back of the restaurant, disappearing into the alley.

A sudden surge of anxiety hits me. It’s been such a nice day so far, it’s been too easy to forget about Mateo’s reputation. Sitting here, the weight of it starts to settle on my chest, and I decide sitting alone in the car can’t be any safer than going in after them. Whatever’s happening, I’ll be better off with them than waiting here in the unknown.

I slip out of the car and head in the direction I saw Bats disappear, easily finding a door marked Employees Only . Ignoring the sign, I open the door and find myself in a kitchen, the staff ignoring me as if they’re used to this kind of intrusion. I carefully move through it until I hear Mateo’s voice on the other side of a door that looks like an office.

The scene that greets me when I open the door turns my stomach. Red and Bats are on either side of Mateo, who stands over a man tied to a chair, his fist connecting with the guy’s face in a brutal, unforgiving punch. The sound of it echoes in the room, raw and visceral. I freeze, my heart pounding, my mind struggling to make sense of what I’m seeing. My fight or flight kicks in, flight being the obvious answer. I’m ready to book it and move across the country but my brain keeps me in check, planting me to the ground for the time being.

Mateo turns to Bats, wiping his hand clean with a cloth, a move that seems very practiced, perhaps even unconscious.

“Get the information out of him,” he says, his voice calm, steady, as though he’s asking for the time.

Then he looks up and notices me.

Our eyes lock, and I see the shock flicker across his face, quickly replaced by something darker and unreadable. I don’t wait to see what he’ll do next. Every instinct I have screams at me to run, to get out of there before he decides I’ve seen too much.

I turn and bolt, my heels echoing on the cold tile floor as I make a desperate dash through the kitchen for the exit. But Mateo is faster. I hear him behind me, his footsteps closing the distance between us, his voice calm but laced with an edge I’ve never heard before.

“Ginny,” he calls, his tone firm, commanding. “Stop.”

But I don’t. I can’t. The image of him standing over that man, fist raised, the look of unflinching power on his face is burned into my mind, and all I can think about is putting as much distance as I can between us. I push through the door and out into the alley.

I round a corner, nearly losing my balance in these heels, but I keep going, fueled by sheer adrenaline. I hear him getting closer, his footsteps quick and sure, and panic floods my veins.

“Ginny!” His voice is sharper this time, and somehow, the authority in it is enough to make me stumble to a halt.