Chapter 2
Chapter Two
Dante
“Mommy!”
The kid wiggles himself between us, staring at me as if I’ve hurt his mother.
Fuck.
Tatiana has a kid. A boy.
He can’t be older than four or five. I know he’s mine even before I do the math. Looking into his eyes is like staring at my own in a mirror.
For a moment, I’m dumbstruck as my mind wrestles with the truth.
The possibility never occurred to me. I have no idea why not.
After all, I knew exactly what I was doing every time I came inside Tatiana instead of using a condom.
Putting a baby in her was a very probable outcome, one I even bargained on.
Yet this isn’t how I imagined the moment of finally finding her would be.
I thought she’d be living off her family’s money somewhere in a palace on a tropical island.
I didn’t expect to find her as a single mother in what can only be described as a shithole instead of a home.
No wonder it took me so long to track her down.
I’ve been searching in all the wrong places.
“Mommy,” the kid says again, but he’s not looking at her. He’s glaring at me.
Jesus, he’s a carbon copy of me at that age. His T-shirt is faded, and his sneakers have seen better days, but he’s not neglected, not in the way that matters. From the way he behaves toward his mother, they’re close. He acts like a kid who’s wanted and loved and who knows it.
He studies me with the lively eyes of a curious and intelligent child.
His curly hair is glossy, and his cheeks are pink with a healthy glow.
He’s a sturdy kid, and I can’t help the pride that swells in my chest even as the shock keeps me in its claws.
And then, as reality settles, fury over the fact that she hid him from me sets in.
But I know how to practice control. I perfected the skill.
Giving the kid some space, I set Tatiana free and step away.
I haven’t missed the fear that tightened the lines of her face as she took in my reaction at seeing the kid.
Even as I focus on one thing, I’m aware of everything else around me.
I always keep one eye on my target and the other on the rest of the room.
She bends down and hugs my kid to her without breaking our eye contact. “It’s okay, baby.” She rubs his back. “I’m okay. We’re okay.”
She’s not okay, but she tells him that again when he buries his face against her legs.
I lay a hand on his shoulder. “Your mom and I were just getting reacquainted. We haven’t seen each other in a long time.”
He shrugs off my touch and burrows himself deeper against his mother.
I cut my gaze to Jasper. The truth is written all over her face. Jasper never did make a good poker player. She looks as if she may bolt, maybe run for help, but a shake of my head discourages her from what would be a very dumb move.
That fact is confirmed when she glances over her shoulder. Reino, the man I had on Tatiana’s tail for the past two days, walks up the path to the flaky porch. Ulysses and Kent, two of my best and most trusted men, flank him.
They stop at the bottom of the steps, far enough to give us privacy but close enough to block the exit. Another two of my soldiers will already be watching the back door and the windows overlooking the yard.
I look at Reino, who never mentioned the kid, for a clue. He only sent me a photo of Jasper. He shrugs with a shake of his head.
Jasper’s cheeks are a shade paler when she faces me again.
Deceit and something like disappointment pass through her eyes when she obviously realizes her mistake.
Reino told me she’d fallen for his story about fixing leaking pipes.
As with wearing her heart on her sleeve, Jasper Everson has always been a tad too trustworthy.
In her defense, Reino is thorough when he creates a false identity. He would’ve been convincing.
Tatiana has moved her focus to Reino and the other men too. She stares at them over Jasper’s shoulder. An anxious look passes between the women.
“My men are here for protection. You’ll be fine.” I left the rest unsaid—as long as they do as I say. They’d get that. Crouching down, I smile at the kid. “How old are you?”
Tatiana’s hands still on his back.
He shoots me a frown. He must feel the tension in the air. Or maybe he’s shy with strangers, a fact that hurts even though it shouldn’t. It’s not his fault he doesn’t know who I am.
I hold out a hand. “Dante.”
He glances at my hand but doesn’t take it. Instead, he lifts a palm, showing me four fingers.
Four.
It makes sense. The last time I saw Tatiana was almost five years ago, four years and six months to be exact, and I’m pretty damn sure she never took another man’s cock in her pussy before she disappeared from my life. She wasn’t like that.
Considering matters from her point of view, I can understand why she’d hide the truth from me, but it doesn’t still the rage ravaging my insides. She robbed me of the first years—four fucking years—of my child’s life, time I can never get back.
I’m careful not to let those feelings show. I don’t want to scare my son more than I already have. “What’s your name?”
He considers me before sticking a thumb in his mouth and mumbling around it. “Noah.”
Noah. It’s not a family name. I wonder why Tatiana decided to name him that.
Of course, we never got around to discussing baby names.
Back then, when I first seduced her and she believed herself in love with me, names for children weren’t exactly at the top of our topic list. We were too busy ripping each other’s clothes off in the few stolen moments we had together to do much talking of any kind.
I drink in my son’s features. Imprinting every detail of his small face in a few seconds in my mind is a sad substitute for seeing a little person grow up over time. “Do you like ice cream?”
Tatiana tightens her hold on him.
He glances at his mother before nodding.
I smile broader, hoping to set him at ease. “What’s your favorite?”
He doesn’t reply, obviously not trusting me. Smart kid.
“Mine is pistachio.” I cut my gaze to Tatiana. “Does your mom still like vanilla?”
She glances away with a pained expression.
I used to tease her about that—that she was so vanilla in her sex tastes.
I fucking loved that about her. I loved that she was so innocent.
So shy. That she’d only been with me. That she was mine to teach.
To corrupt. And judging by that look on her face, it hurts her that I remember.
Did she think I’d forget one goddamn thing about her?
Noah takes his thumb from his mouth and mumbles shyly, “I like chocolate better.”
“Chocolate, huh?” The urge to hug my child to my chest is so big I have to curl my fingers into my palms to prevent myself from touching him again.
“How about Jasper takes you for an ice cream?” I throw a thumb over my shoulder.
“Reino over there is my friend. He’ll drive you.
” I straighten, take my wallet from my pocket, and remove a twenty. “My treat.”
Noah’s eyes grow round as he looks at the bill I hold out to him.
“Not before dinner.” Tatiana’s husky voice is shaky. “You know the rules, Noah.”
We need to talk, and Noah can’t be here for that conversation, but I get why she doesn’t want to let our son go with a stranger, let alone one who works for me. For all she knows, I could be planning on kidnapping him.
I suppose I am, but I’m taking his mother away with him. I have to be clever about it, though. I’m not going to traumatize my kid.
“How about we all go?” I give Noah the money and put away my wallet. “You can have all the toppings you want.”
He’s not a hundred percent convinced as he looks at the bill he holds between his fingers. As I said, smart kid.
He tears his gaze from the twenty to look at his mother. “But what if I’m not hungry for food after ice cream?”
“Food first.” She takes the money from Noah and shoves it into the welt pocket of my jacket. “Thanks for the ice cream money, but we don’t need it.”
Noah’s face drops, but he doesn’t argue with his mother, who clearly needs every penny she can get. What she means is she doesn’t want my money. Or to go out for ice cream. Naturally, she doesn’t want to go anywhere with me.
“Point taken.” I rub a thumb over my chin as I look her straight in the eyes. “No ice cream before food.” Those pale green pools have always been my undoing. “What’s for dinner?”
Warming up to me a little, Noah speaks before Tatiana can reply. “Chicken nuggets.” He wrinkles his nose. “And carrot sticks.”
I chuckle. “Not a big fan of carrots, are you?”
He shakes his head.
“I’ll let you in on a secret, buddy.” Unable to resist any longer, I brush a hand over his head. “Neither am I.”
From the smile that replaces his frown, that wins me some points. It’s true. I hate carrots. Always have.
Tatiana pulls him next to her, out of my reach. “It’s late. Why don’t you say goodbye to Mr. Morici, Noah? I’m sure he’d like to get home to his dinner too.”
“Mr. Morici is very formal, don’t you think? Dante will do.” I don’t miss a beat. “For now.”
Tatiana swallows at the unspoken innuendo of my words. Yes, I want Noah to call me Daddy, and that’s exactly what he’ll do. However, rushing my agenda will be unwise. The kid doesn’t even know me.
The thought leaves a bitter taste in my mouth, but I swallow it down.
The situation we find ourselves in is only partly Tatiana’s doing.
The consequences of what happened five years ago rest squarely on my shoulders.
I remind myself of that as I use my thumb to twist the thick gold band with the onyx stone around the ring finger of my right hand.
“How about we give your mom a break from cooking and we all go out for dinner?” I don’t give Tatiana a chance to decline. “You can have ice cream if you eat all your food. I’m sure your mom won’t object to that.”