Surprise Baby for the Don (Dark Daddies #2)

Chapter 16

16

Mateo

I watch Rex squirm in the chair, bound by ropes and face colored with shame. He glances between Ginny and me, sweat dripping from his brow, his mouth opening and closing as he struggles for words that won’t come. He knows he’s screwed up. Again. And this time, there’s no excuse that can soften the blow. Not with Ginny standing there, staring at him with an expression I can only describe as cold fury. Her anger simmers just beneath the surface, tightly coiled, waiting for one final push to explode.

And I want it to. I want her to unleash every ounce of rage she’s spent years bottling up, to finally see her father for who he really is. It’s a thought I’d never share with her, but I can feel it burning in my gut, the need to protect her from the mess of a man in front of us. He’s hurt her over and over, but this? Stealing from her, gambling away the hard-earned money she made under my protection? That’s an unforgivable line he’s crossed.

But Ginny’s said her piece and she turns to go, running toward her room. I want to follow after her, but first I have some unfinished business with her father. I stalk toward him, watching as his expression changes from shame to fear.

“Let’s get one thing clear,” I growl right next to his ear. “Our deal is off. Ginny is going to stay here with me as long as she wants, but you and I are done. Out of respect for your daughter, I’m not going to let my men do what I should let them do to you for this. You’re going to leave this house and I never want to see your sorry ass anywhere near my business again. Do you understand?”

Unshed tears gather in his eyes, and he barely manages a nod as he swallows hard, afraid. I turn on him, snapping for Bats to turn him loose.

I follow in the direction I saw Ginny go, assuming she went to her room. When I don’t find her there, I start to panic a little, worried she might have left the house altogether. I poke my head into each guestroom, but she’s nowhere to be found. My agitation only grows, wanting to find her, wanting to comfort her after what’s happened.

It finally occurs to me that she may have gone back to my room, where we were both so happy just a few hours ago. It feels like a lifetime ago, waking up to find her getting dressed, worried about her good-for-nothing father. I find the door ajar and hear the faint sounds of sobs coming from inside. I stand in the doorway and see her curled up on the bed, head pressed to her knees as her body shakes with her pain.

I pad softly over to her but she doesn’t look up. Even as I sit next to her on the bed and carefully wrap an arm around her shoulders, she doesn’t acknowledge me. She just shakes harder.

Finally, she leans into me, then allows herself to unfold against me. Her arms go around my neck and her head rests on my chest as tears spill over her cheeks. I simply hug her back, not telling her that it will be okay, not making any promises I know I can’t keep. Her pain is visceral and deep. I don’t even know how many times this man has hurt her, failed her. I’m not going to add to the trail of heartbreak. All I can do is be a comforting shoulder to cry on.

“I’m sorry,” she whispers eventually, her voice barely audible, her words coming out shakily through sobs. “I shouldn’t be crying over him. He’s not worth it.”

I shake my head, reaching out to tilt her chin up so I can look into her eyes. I gently brush a tear from her cheek as I cradle her face in my hands.

“You don’t have to apologize, Ginny,” I murmur against her hair as I place a gentle kiss against her forehead. “Not to me. He hurt you. And it’s okay to feel that.”

She looks up at me, her eyes filled with a vulnerability that makes my chest ache, cheeks and nose red from crying.

“I just don’t understand why he’d do this,” she manages before another sob rips through her. “After everything I’ve done for him…”

Her voice cracks, and I feel that strange urge again, that need to protect her, to take away all her pain and replace it with something better, something real. She deserves the world and more, and I could give it to her if she’d let me.

“Listen,” I say softly, my thumb still tracing gentle circles on her cheek. “You don’t have to carry this on your own. Not anymore. You’re safe here. And if you need anything, anything at all, you just have to ask. I’m not perfect either but I can try my best to be here for you, even if I’m not able to be present.”

She stares at me, her eyes wide, her breathing shallow. For a moment, I think she’s going to push me away, to refuse my help as she has several times. She seems to not trust that I’m who I say I am, that I’ll give her whatever she asks without hesitation. But then, to my surprise, she leans into my touch, her body relaxing ever so slightly as she lets out a soft sigh.

“Thank you,” she whispers, her voice barely audible. “For everything.”

I give her a small smile, my hand lingering on her cheek for a moment longer before I drop it, reluctantly pulling away.

“Do you want me to send someone to your place to get your things? You don’t have to go back there if you don’t want to.”

She shakes her head, her expression resolute. “No, I need to do it myself,” she murmurs. “You’ve done so much for me, but this is something that I need to do for myself.”

I nod, respecting her decision, even though a part of me wants to insist on sending someone. But I know Ginny well enough by now. This is something she needs to do on her own.

“Well, my offer still stands,” I say, my voice gentle. “You can stay here as long as you need. Or as long as you want.”

A faint smile tugs at her lips, and she nods, her gaze softening. “Thank you,” she whispers. “I appreciate it. I think I’ll take you up on that.”

There’s a moment of silence, and then she glances down, a sheepish look crossing her face.

“I took all my clothes home to wash them last night,” she admits hesitantly. “I don’t have anything else to wear here.”

I can’t help but chuckle, the sound low and warm. “You know I have people who would do your laundry for you, right?”

Her cheeks flush, and she gives me a little shrug. “Yeah, but…” she trails off, trying to collect her thoughts. “It’s one of those things I just like doing myself. I’ve always done my own laundry; I don’t want to stop now just because I’m staying with you.”

It’s such a simple thing, so ordinary, and yet it endears her to me even more. She’s so independent, likely because she’s only ever been able to rely on herself. It makes me want to take care of her, to give her everything she deserves. I’ve never felt such an inherent need to take care of another person, and it’s somewhat terrifying.

I clear my throat, trying to shake off the strange, unfamiliar emotions swirling inside me. “Why don’t you go relax for now?” I offer. “I’ll draw you a bath. You look like you could use it. It’s a pretty nice tub.” I add.

Without waiting for her response, I turn and head to my master bathroom and start the bath, switching on the taps and adjusting the temperature until it’s just right. I add a bit of lavender bath oil, watching as the steam rises, filling the room with a calming, soothing scent. I’m not usually the type to fuss over details like this, but with Ginny, it feels important. Necessary.

When I return, she’s still sitting in the same spot on the bed, looking at me with a mixture of confusion and gratitude.

I gesture toward the bathroom. “Go on. I’ll bring you a robe and some towels.”

She hesitates for a moment, her gaze flicking between me and the bathroom, as if she’s still not sure what to make of all this. But finally, she nods and climbs off the bed, brushing past me disappearing into the bathroom. I follow a moment later, after finding a fluffy robe and fresh towels, setting them down on the counter.

I know I should leave, that I should give her privacy, but I find myself lingering, my eyes drawn to her as she stands there, her back to me, her shoulders tense. There’s a part of me that wants to stay, to watch her disrobe and sink into the water, to be there for her in every possible way. But I know it’s not the right time. She needs her space.

With a quiet sigh, I turn and close the door behind me, forcing myself to walk away.

I sit on the edge of the bed, scrolling through my phone, though I can’t seem to focus on anything. Finally, I manage to dial the number of the boutique I sent her to earlier in the week. I know they have her measurements, so I ask for more clothes, pajamas, and underwear to be sent to my house for her.

I’m just hanging up when the bathroom door finally opens. I glance up, my breath catching at the sight of her. She’s wearing my robe, her hair damp, her cheeks flushed from the heat of the bath. She looks stunning. There’s a softness to her, a fragility that makes me want to pull her into my arms and never let go.

“I’ve ordered you more clothes,” I say, my voice low. “But if you’re uncomfortable being around the staff in just”—I gesture to the bathrobe—“that, you can stay here. In my room.”

She gives me a small smile, nodding as she tightens the robe around herself. “Thanks.” She smiles. “I think I’ll do that.”

She approaches me slowly, coming to stand in front of me. Now she cradles my face in her hands and forces me to look up at her, a reflection of our earlier position.

“You have no idea what this means to me,” she murmurs, bringing her lips closer to mine until we’re just a breath away.

My arms move to her waist, stiff, unsure. I don’t want to do anything she doesn’t want, but I’m already semi-hard being this close to her and knowing that only a small bit of fabric stands between us. She makes the decision for me, climbing up onto my lap, straddling me, and pressing her lips forcefully against mine.

Her tongue eagerly slips into my mouth, powerful and hungry. There’s no hesitation in her movements, no insecurity as her hands tangle into my hair and her warm body presses against mine. Her hips grind against me, and it’s all I can do not to groan in pleasure. I’m putty in her hands, completely defenseless against whatever attack she wants to wage. If she asked me to give her everything I own right now, I probably would.

My hands slip under the hem of her robe, caressing her slightly damp skin, still so warm from her bath. I touch her everywhere, getting lost in the sensation of her soft skin under my palms, until she finally, mercifully, undoes the tie on her robe and lets it fall to the floor.