Chapter 4 #2
“Yes, but um…did you say something about clothes because I’d really rather not put that scratchy dress back on and—”
I grasped onto her comment like a lifeline because it gave me something else to think about besides what was under the terry cloth wrapped around her.
“Right. Um, yes. I brought you something to sleep in.” The pajamas were a satin sleep set, a tank top and shorts in a deep purple color that would make her blue eyes look amazing.
It was going to be pure torture watching her walk around in them, but I wanted to make sure she ate and had everything she needed before leaving her to sleep.
I stood and picked up the clothes from where I’d set them on the dresser, quickly taking them over to her.
Vivienne frowned at the silky pajamas as she took them from me. “These look like they belong to a woman.”
My head cocked to the side, and my mouth curved up a little. “If you’re expecting me to correct you and claim they’re mine, I will have to disappoint you.”
Vivienne didn’t laugh as I’d expected. She stared at me with a furrowed brow, and her blue eyes sparking with what looked like anger, though she was attempting to hide it. “Um, I doubt your wife will be very comfortable with you lending her pajamas to some strange woman.”
It probably made me a bastard, but smug satisfaction settled in my chest when I realized why she was upset. “I’m not married, cara.”
She looked relieved for a second, then her nose wrinkled as if she smelled something disgusting. “I suppose one of the many women who’ve fallen at your feet left those here?”
I wanted to laugh, but I didn’t want to make her so angry that she didn’t believe me when I explained. “These belong to my sister, Gabriella. But everyone calls her Gabbi.”
“Your sister?” she squeaked, her cheeks suddenly bursting with color.
“Yes, all of my siblings have a room in this house for when they need it.” I couldn’t stop a wide grin from splitting my face as I trailed a finger along her jaw. “Jealousy is a very good look on you, cara.”
She seemed momentarily stunned as she stared at my face but then shook herself out of it. “I wasn't jealous,” she defended.
I decided not to contradict her. “I haven’t been in a relationship in…well, in a very long time. It’s not easy to trust in my line of work.”
“And what line is that?”
Pushing gently on her shoulder, I urged her to move back into the bathroom. “A conversation for another time, cara. Get changed and come eat.”
It was clear that she wanted to push for more, but the events of the day were clearly catching up with her. Sighing, she shut the door, then reemerged a few minutes later in the pajamas and padded over to the desk while finger-combing her long, damp locks.
“Eat. I’ll see if Gabbi has a brush you can use.”
I jogged back to my sister’s suite and located a comb in her vanity, then returned to Vivienne, who was chewing on a bite of cracker.
“Good girl,” I murmured as I moved around to stand beside her and slowly ran the comb through her hair. She jerked upright and twisted around, peering up at me with a puzzled expression.
“What are you doing?”
My brow rose. “I would have thought that was rather obvious. You must be more tired than I realized.”
Vivienne’s nose crinkled adorably. “I know what you’re doing. I meant, why are you doing it?”
Her genuine astonishment ignited my protective instincts, and I suddenly wanted to have a chat with the mother who had clearly never done something as maternal as brushing her daughter’s hair.
But I kept my tone calm and even when I answered. “Because I want to. Now, eat while I take care of this, then you can go to bed.”
She looked as though she might argue for a second, but when I threaded my fingers through her hair, she let out a happy little sigh and turned around.
When her tangles were gone, she’d eaten enough to satisfy me, so I lifted her into my arms and carried her over to the bed. I pulled back the bedding and set her on the mattress. By the time I’d covered her up, she was already asleep, her breathing deep and steady.
“Get some sleep, angioletta,” I murmured, brushing her hair away from her forehead before placing a kiss there.
I crossed to the door and turned out the lights before stepping into the hallway, then I shut it and used the key to turn the lock.
Dario was waiting for me at the bottom of the stairs, his expression grim. I had a feeling I knew what was causing his foul attitude, and I wasn’t much in the mood to deal with it.
“Later, fratellino,” I muttered.
“You don’t want an update on Jimmy?” he asked, barely disguising the sarcasm in his voice.
My feet halted, and I turned my head to level him with an icy stare that had him backing up a step. “Watch it, Dario,” I warned. Brother or not, he was still a lieutenant talking to the underboss.
He silently followed me when I resumed walking, taking us both to my office.
Domenico was sprawled on a chair in the corner, reading a book, and didn’t even bother to look up when we entered.
But even though he appeared to be engrossed in his novel, people would be utterly shocked to realize that he knew exactly what was happening all around him in great detail.
His brain had an interesting quirk, making him an unparalleled bodyguard and enforcer.
He was at his highest level of functioning while multitasking.
It was as if he couldn’t go slow enough to handle one thing at a time.
So even though I had no doubt that he was ingesting every word he read, I also knew he could tell you exactly what Dario and I were wearing, how our hair was styled, what kind of gun my brother had shoved in his jeans, how many steps it took me to get from the door to my desk, and probably even how many breaths I’d taken since I walked into the room.
“You here to back up my brother?” I asked stonily as I sat in the black leather chair behind my gleaming Peruvian walnut desk.
Domenico lowered his book and shook his head, his expression deadpan. “Here to watch the fireworks.”
“Fuck you,” Dario snapped.
“Not my type, pretty boy. Better luck next time.”
“Enough!” I snarled. Dario and Domenico were both thirty, only a year younger than me, yet they squabbled like children sometimes. It was enough to give me a fucking migraine.
“Spit out whatever it is that you came to say, Dario. It’s been a long-ass day, and I have shit to do before I head to bed.”
“Alone?”
My expression hardened. “Since this doesn’t concern the Family, I fail to see how that is any of your business.”
“You don’t think it concerns the Family? Do you know who she is, Rafa?” my brother barked as he crossed his arms over his chest.
I had received an email from Marco earlier but decided to wait until after Vivienne was taken care of to dive into it. There was no way in hell that our brother would have sent the information to anyone but me—or Nic—so I was curious what Dario knew. “Fucking enlighten me then.”
“Vivienne Blackwell is engaged to Chet Chanler.”
Was engaged, I corrected silently.
“Who?”
“Rafa, you’ve stolen the fiancée of the next governor of Tennessee!”
I scoffed. “First, that man was never going to win. Nic and I have already bought the next governor of Tennessee. Why do you think I was at that dinner tonight, Dario? Several donors were on the fence, and I was persuading them to back our choice.”
“But Chanler still has a stage and a loud fucking bullhorn,” Dario argued. “He’ll bring attention to the Family that we don’t need.”
“Second,” I continued without acknowledging his interruption, “Vivienne’s ex-fiancé could have been Nic, and I would still have taken her.”
Dario reared back as if I’d slapped him in the face.
“If you knew the details, you’d know that Nic would have my balls if I hadn’t. And before you imply otherwise and piss me off even more, he was already going to be my first call tomorrow.”
“I don’t understand.”
“It’s difficult to understand something when you run your mouth without all the facts,” Domenico drawled.
I shot him a glare, but didn’t shift my main focus from Dario. While I didn’t want to share Vivienne’s situation without her permission, due to Chanler’s visibility, I was a little more understanding of Dario’s concern. “He was abusing her,” I told him.
He took a second to absorb my words, then he lost all his righteous bravado, exchanging it for rage. “What the fuck? How was he hiding this from the press?”
“I’m not sure. Vivienne was too fragile for me to get the whole story out of her tonight. But now you understand why I helped her.”
Dario had the good sense to look chagrined.
“I get it. You were just…acting so out of character. You’re never impulsive or rash, which is why Nic trusts you to run the southern branches.
When you sent me off to take care of Jimmy, I assumed it was to keep the woman who ran into you from being a witness.
Then I found out you brought her home, and I…
” He sighed and ran a hand through his hair.
“Honestly, I didn’t know what to think.”
“I’m still a little confused,” Domenico piped up.
I swung my gaze in his direction and waited.
“Getting her away from the event was necessary, and we would all have done the same thing. But why did you bring her here?”
“Because she belongs to me now.”