Surprise Baby for the Don (Dark Daddies #2)

Chapter 11

11

Ginny

A s kind as Mateo’s been through lunch, I still can’t shake the image from my mind of him standing over that man, fists clenched. It was both terrifying and a little mesmerizing. It’s not like I didn’t know who he was, and it’s becoming increasingly clear that I didn’t have much choice but to agree to my father’s deal. Even so, he’s put me at ease, made this all seem like it’s my choice. What’s a mob boss good for if he isn’t able to sweet talk his people?

But he’s dangerous and violent. He gets his way no matter the cost, and even the scariest men I’ve ever seen are afraid of him.

I should be afraid of him, not intrigued. But no matter how much I try to reason with myself, I can’t help but feel a small thrill, a pulse of excitement I can’t ignore. He makes me feel things I’ve never imagined before in my sad, sometimes black and white life. There’s a nervous flutter in my stomach, a heat between my legs that no other man has ever made me feel.

When he commanded me back into the restaurant, to sit down and have a nice lunch with him, it did something to me that I can’t put into words.

It’s ridiculous. I should be running in the opposite direction, but instead, here I am, sitting across from him, sharing dessert like we’re on a proper date, just two normal people who don’t have a dangerous truth sitting between them.

He watches me, his gaze steady and almost amused, and I can feel myself relaxing despite everything, despite my mind’s protests. There’s something about the way he smiles that draws me in, makes me feel like I’m the only person in the room. It’s magnetic, intoxicating, and before I realize it, I’m smiling back at him, slipping into easy conversation. Flirting, even.

We linger over dessert, my initial anger and fear softening with each laugh, each look we exchange. He has a sharp wit, a dry humor, and somehow, the more I talk to him, the more I want to. I want to spend as much time with him as possible, putting together his puzzle pieces and solving his riddles.

My heart races at the thought, but not from fear. I can’t help but remember my dream, and the longer I sit here with him, the more realistic it feels. It’s not so much that he’s giving me any indication that he feels that way about me, but my desire for him keeps growing. When he smiles at me, it turns my insides to mush.

Too soon, we’re wrapping up our lunch and he’s passing the waiter the same black credit card I saw Red give the woman at the boutique. As reluctant as I was to sit down with him, I’m suddenly dreading leaving this place.

Thankfully, when we walk out of the restaurant together, the black car I’ve been riding in all day is nowhere to be seen. He places his hand near the small of my back, not touching me exactly, but hovering close enough that I can feel its warmth. We walk a short distance down the block to where he’s parked his expensive car. He goes to the passenger side, opening my door in an unexpectedly chivalrous gesture.

We chat more as he pulls onto the street, but he doesn’t take me back to his house. Instead, he brings me to another building, a short drive away, sleek and imposing.

He drives into an empty garage, swiping a card that lets us through an automated barrier.

We get out and he shows me into a completely abandoned office space. The whole place has that musty scent of a building that hasn’t been used in a while, and as we walk through the halls, the echo of our footsteps fills the silence, automatic lights firing up with each step we take.

“So, what do you think?” he asks, breaking the quiet as we finish our unofficial tour of the first floor.

I look around, trying to imagine what this place could be. It’s wide open, high ceilings with exposed beams, and dusty windows that let in streaks of afternoon light.

“It has good bones,” I say thoughtfully. “What are you planning to use the space for?”

“I want to hear your thoughts first,” he replies, his voice low and relaxed. “Don’t worry about specifics yet. Just tell me what you see.”

I nod, letting my eyes drift around the space, my mind buzzing with possibilities. I think about the lighting, the layout, how the flow could be improved.

“I’d need some time to plan it out,” I admit, feeling genuine excitement over the blank slate this project provides. “But it’s a gorgeous space. The possibilities are endless. It has a lot of potential. Could be strictly office, could be mixed use. I’ll have to think about it.”

He nods, clearly satisfied with my answer. “Take as long as you need,” he tells me, a satisfied smile on his face. “Unfortunately, I have some business I need to attend to, but the twins are waiting outside for you. They’ll take you home when you’re done.”

“Home?” I ask, suddenly remembering that I’m not actually going back to the apartment I share with my father.

Mateo grins, his gaze softening, and he corrects himself. “Home for now, I should say.”

My stomach flips at the words, at the casual way he acknowledges that we’re inhabiting the same space, even if it’s just temporary. Knowing that sends another thrill through me.

He begins to walk away, leaving me to my ideas, when a gnawing question works its way up to the surface.

“Mateo,” I call out to him, forcing him to stop and turn around. “How exactly am I getting paid for this?”

The question comes out hesitantly, as I’m a little embarrassed to ask it. After all, he spent a ton of money already today on my new wardrobe and lunch. He’s probably spent more on me today than I’d earn in a month’s worth of tips.

Mateo’s grin widens, a hint of amusement flashing in his eyes. “Come down to the office on Friday and we’ll settle up.”

I raise a brow, sensing that he’s enjoying this a little too much. “I don’t think we ever discussed my rate,” I remind him carefully.

“We didn’t have to,” he says, with that quiet confidence that radiates from him. “I’m going to give you more than you would ever ask for. In cash.” He pauses, looking me up and down, a knowing smile tugging at his lips. “See you around.”

And with that, he leaves me standing in the empty office, my mind spinning with everything that just happened.

For the next hour, I wander around the first floor, taking notes on my phone. Eventually, I find a sparse supply room and grab a used legal pad and a pen. I start drawing up simple plans, going room by room to render examples of how each space could look.

It’s nearly impossible to focus, though. My thoughts keep drifting back to Mateo, to our easy conversation, to his charming smile. I think about that strange thrill I felt when he told me his men would bring me “home.” This should all feel like an imposition, a client overstepping over his boundaries. Yet the more time I spend with him, the fewer boundaries I actually want between us.

I shake my head, trying to refocus, but it’s no use. Even here, in this empty building, I can feel his presence lingering, filling the space. It’s as if he’s somehow claimed this place just by stepping into it, and I can’t shake the feeling that I’m not alone.

I’m being ridiculous. I know that. Mateo is a dangerous man who’s capable of extreme violence. Just a few hours ago, I saw exactly that with my own eyes. So why am I so intrigued by him, drawn to him, even? It could be the power he effortlessly exudes or the way he carries himself, but something about him makes me want to get closer, to understand him, even though I know I shouldn’t.

After a couple of hours, I realize I’m not going to make any more headway with my work. I give up on trying to make sense of the space, heading back outside where the twins are waiting for me, just as Mateo promised. Red opens the door for me without a word, and I slip into the backseat, my mind still buzzing with questions and thoughts I can’t quite sort out.

I find myself staring out the window, watching the city blur past, my mind drifting back to the conversation we had over dessert. The way he brushed off my questions, the way he laughed when I told him I didn’t want to work for the Mob. His amusement was maddening at the time, but now I can’t help but replay it over and over again in my mind. He’s so sure of himself, so comfortable with who he is and what he does. I find that confidence incredibly sexy. It’s something I wish I had quite a bit more of.

When we finally arrive back at the house, I slip out of the car, my mind still spinning, and head up to the room Mateo showed me earlier. It’s just as I left it, elegant and understated, with a view that stretches out over the gardens below. I sit on the edge of the bed, trying to process everything that’s happened, trying to make sense of the strange, confusing pull I feel toward him.

I get up and pace around the room, touching every surface and admiring the elegance of the space. I step into the large walk-in closet, which is not much smaller than my room at home. The clothes the stylist picked out this afternoon are already hung up, several pairs of shoes lined up underneath each outfit.

The outfit I arrived in is also hanging up, though pushed to the back of the rack, a stark reminder that it doesn’t belong with the rest of the beautiful clothes. I desperately wished for my comfortable clothes back home. My real life doesn’t quite fit with this game of house I’m playing. I don’t belong here.

This is insane. I barely know Mateo, but I’m perfectly comfortable in his home, pretending that the quiet elegance is something I experience every day. But it comes with a cost. What I saw today would be enough to scare anyone with half a brain. I should put on my old clothes and find a way to walk out of here without looking back. Instead, I walk through the closet, running my fingers reverently over the fine fabrics of the expensive clothes, and wonder how Mateo will respond to each outfit.

With a sigh, I leave the closet, moving to the balcony to watch the last rays of sunlight fade over the city. If I only had a week to impress Mateo with my ideas and designs, I needed to focus on the space and not on my boss.