Fourteen
Maxim
A slap to the face jerks me out of sleep. My fist clenches, ready to swing at the intruder, but my brain processes the familiar scent filling my nose in a split second, reining in my instincts. I open my eyes to my daughter’s beautiful face hovering over mine.
I smooth my thumb over the faint frown between her brows and ask, “What’s wrong, baby girl?”
“I’m hungry.”
I glance at the clock. Eight in the morning. “Where’s Mama?”
“Sleeping.”
I roll out of bed, throw on some sweatpants, and scoop Aurora up with one arm. Passing through the hallway, I catch sight of Ava, still wrapped in the bath towel I draped over her last night, sprawled across Aurora’s bed. Guess Aurora couldn’t sleep last night.
I head downstairs, set Aurora in her high chair, and pour chocolate cereal with milk into a bowl, placing it in front of her. She gives me and the bowl a look, like I’m the dumbest guy alive and grumbles, “I want pancakes.”
She’s definitely going to be one of those people whose brain doesn’t fully boot up till noon.
I snatch the bowl away before she hurls it at me.
After digging through a few cabinets, I find the pancake mix and, following the directions with all the grace of a guy defusing a bomb, manage to cook something edible.
I slide the plate onto her table with a victorious smirk, eyeing her proudly.
She frowns at it again and says like a queen giving orders, “Put honey on it.”
I drizzle the honey without a word, expecting at least a thank-you. Instead, she holds out her hands. “You didn’t wash my hands and face!”
This time, I can’t help it, I burst out laughing. I scoop her up, ignore her squeals and protests, and give her a long, noisy squeeze before washing her up. Then I let her go back to destroying my hard work, smearing pancakes and honey all over her cheeks.
After pouring myself a glass of milk, I check my phone. One missed call from Carlo. I call him back, and he picks up on the second ring.
“Hey, boss.”
“Maxim. Set up a meeting with Rosa for tonight.”
“Something up?”
“We’ll talk in person.”
That means something’s serious enough he can’t risk discussing it over the phone.
“You got it, boss. I’m planning to take Ava to Ivan’s club tonight. You cool with Aurora staying at your place late?”
I don’t mention I’ll pay the nanny a fat stack to keep the kid tucked in until I’m done with Ava. But Carlo’s too sharp to miss my angle.
“The girl gave you the green light to mate, and Aurora’s cock-blocking you, huh?”
I shoot a sideways glance at Aurora, blissfully smearing pancakes, and mutter, “Dead on. I love my kid, but tonight, I don’t want to see her face.”
“I get that. I feel the same about my boys sometimes. Though saying that to Emily would probably get me a bullet.”
“You’ve said worse and done even worse things to her. Yet every time, she wants you more than before.”
“This one’s different. It’s a universal code. Mess with a woman’s kids, and she’ll see red, doesn’t matter who you are. She’ll roar like a bear and rip you to shreds. Maternal hormones are stronger than anything else out there.”
I glance at Aurora’s orange curls and know I’ve got those hormones in me too. I’d die for this demanding little gremlin.
While she’s busy with her breakfast, I make the necessary calls and set everything up.
I wash her hands and face again, and as she nestles in my arms with a full belly, babbling nonsense I can’t decipher, I head to Ava’s wardrobe.
A quick scan tells me her wardrobe’s depressing as hell.
I need to take her shopping soon. I check the tag on one of her dresses for her size and call Elen.
“Hey, Maxim. What can I do for you, love?”
“I need you to pick out a red, short, sleeveless dress, best brand, expensive, and send it to Carlo’s place. Size four. Pair it with black heels, size eight, red soles.”
“Send the dress empty, or should I stuff a pretty girl in it for you?”
A wicked smirk curls my lips. “Send it empty, Elen. I’ve already got the pretty girl.”
I hang up and glance at Aurora, winking at her. “Come on, let’s go teach you how to wake someone up properly.”
I carry her to her room and set her on the bed. Then I sit on the edge, brushing my lips across Ava’s sleeping face. Her brows knit, but her eyes stay closed. Aurora scoots closer, bubbling with excitement. “I kiss too!”
I let her slobber one side of Ava’s face with her wet kisses while I graze the other with my lips. Eventually, Ava stirs and blinks at us, eyes wide with confusion.
“What are you doing, Maxim?” she mumbles.
“Hooray, Mama’s awake!” Aurora cheers.
I raise a brow, kissing Ava’s soft lips and murmuring, “I’m teaching Aurora how to wake someone up.”
Ava wriggles out from under me, tugging the slipped edges of her towel closed, her flushed face dipping in embarrassment. I can tell she’s shy about last night.
“Mama, I teach Gabriel too!” Aurora chirps.
It takes a second for her words to sink in, and when they do, my face burns red to the roots of my hair, making Ava burst into laughter. I reach out, pulling Aurora onto my lap.
“Listen up, little carrot,” I say, gently but firmly. “Kissing and touching are just for Mama and Daddy. You don’t kiss anyone, and you don’t let anyone kiss you. Got it?”
She’s too young to grasp the concept of rules. From my words, she only seems to pick up on “Mama and Daddy kissing,” because she leans forward, planting a slobbery kiss on my cheek, then turns to Ava, gifting her one too.
My heart swells with so much love for her it slams against my chest. I hand her to Ava and ask, “Ever been to a nightclub?”
Ava shakes her head.
I pinch her ass and ignore her glare as I say, “Then you’re in for a hell of a night.”
***
Carlo’s wearing a fitted black pullover and jeans, lounging behind Brando’s desk.
“Could’ve been a coincidence,” Brando says, handing him a scotch.
Carlo runs his finger along the rim of the glass, shaking his head. “Giuliano doesn’t send his men to a dock I control by accident.”
His gaze shifts to me. I rest my forearm on the armrest, nodding in agreement. Giuliano’s one of the Bruni family’s oldest enemies, a cunning old bastard we haven’t managed to bury yet. “That old man’s into something.”
The door opens, and Senator Rosa strides in with his son, Roberto. Last time I saw that boy was the night I punished him for what he did to one of my whores, had him fucked up good. I wasn’t expecting him here, not when it was supposed to be only his father.
Carlo rises from the desk to greet them.
The senator, paler than usual, grips Carlo’s hand tightly and introduces his son.
After exchanging pleasantries with Brando, Rosa turns to me, squeezing my hand harder than necessary.
Roberto, acting like our history doesn’t exist, shakes my hand with a smile, and we all sit at the conference table.
The senator looks like an older version of his son. Only difference is, his hair is fully white and his face lined with wrinkles.
“This was supposed to be a private meeting, Senator,” I say.
He adjusts his tie, avoiding my eyes, and addresses Carlo. “Roberto’s running for city council soon. He’s not far from my position. If you’re alright with it, I’d like him to start getting familiar with the business now.”
Carlo studies Roberto for a moment before responding. “Your father’s got a long history with us. His honesty earned the Bruni family’s trust. You might inherit his seat, but to have my protection, you should start from zero and prove yourself to me.”
Roberto nods politely. “Understood, Mr. Bruni. I’m eager to build a relationship as strong as the one you have with my father.”
Carlo nods, then turns to Rosa. “My men noticed the guards at the docks have been replaced. Why wasn’t I informed?”
Rosa clasps his hands on the table. “The old guards started asking questions they had no right to. They wanted a bigger cut to keep their mouths shut. I fired them and made sure their mouths stayed shut.”
I tap my fingers on the table. “The question was why we weren’t told, not why they were replaced.”
Rosa goes quiet for a moment, then fixes his cold eyes on me. “The dock workers get their share from my cut. I didn’t think it was a big deal.”
Carlo exchanges a glance with me, his tone icing over. “Everything that happens on that dock—who comes, who goes, even if a rat dies there—matters to me, Senator. I thought we were clear on that.”
The senator’s tone turns warmer. “I’ve worked with the Bruni family since your father’s time, Carlo. I thought you trusted me more than that.”
Carlo’s voice cuts like a blade. “I trust protocol. The unwritten codes. Once those are broken, trust loses all meaning.”
The color drains from Rosa’s face, and he falls silent. My eyes flick to Roberto, casually sipping his drink, oblivious.
Carlo takes a sip of his scotch and says with authority, “I’m holding back the next shipment until the new guards’ backgrounds are vetted. And to make up for the damage this delay is causing to my business, you won’t be getting a cut from the incoming shipment.”
Rosa nods. “No problem, Carlo. I assure you, this kind of misunderstanding won’t happen again.”
Carlo throws him a pointed look. “That’s best for everyone, Senator.”
After they leave, Brando lights a cigar and stands by the fireplace. “Something’s off with him.”
Carlo agrees. “Either he’s gone senile, got family drama, or he’s lost his damn mind and thinks he can cross me. Whatever it is, keep an eye on him, Maxim. Call the Wizard and tell him we’re bringing the shipment in by land. I’m not taking risks until this is sorted.”
“You got it, boss.”
Brando chimes in again. “The family issue theory might hold. Rosa’s kept his nose clean all these years, but his son’s itching for trouble.”
A smirk tugs at my lips. “Yeah, I scratched that itch for him once.”
Both Carlo and Brando grin, remembering what I did to Roberto. Brando continues, “Not that. From what I hear, the kid’s a sick fuck. A regular at some underground girl fights in Naples.”