10. Theias
10
THEIAS
“ I should fucking kill you,” I rage in Tank’s face, his broken nose bleeding all over my custom marble floors. “I should pound your fucking face into dust and piss down your throat for touching her, hurting her.”
“Boss.” Caleb’s hand on my shoulder is the only reason I don’t put enough pressure on the knife at Tank’s throat to cut through his neck. “The blood… Makes her sick.”
“No, it doesn’t,” I snarl. “The fact she’s pregnant and has this asshole touching her, makes her sick.” You could hear a pin drop as everyone holds their breath at the reveal.
“Shit,” Owen curses.
“I’m sorry, Theias. I didn’t know,” Tank squeaks out, his lips turning blue from lack of oxygen and the hold I have on his throat.
“It shouldn’t fucking matter, Tank. I warned you once; you should have listened.”
As I pull the blade from his throat, everyone seems to breathe a collective sigh of relief. Though, when I bury my blade into Tank’s shoulder, I have to grin at everyone’s shocked gasps. Tank’s guttural scream satisfies my need to cause harm for now.
“Theias!” his whore of the month screams, trying to drag me off. Shoving her to the side, I get to my feet, wiping the blood off on my pants.
“You ever fucking come to my house again without invitation, and I’ll bury this in your fucking heart. Keep your whores at home.” Walking away, Caleb raises an eyebrow while Owen’s lips quirk up on one side, undeniably amused. “Get them out.”
“You want to know why they’re here?” Caleb calls after me.
“I don’t fucking care. He’s off the roster.”
Tank was one of my better fighters until he started letting the fame get to his head. Now, all he cares about is fucking as many ring bunnies as possible and snorting the next great drug. I’m done. So fucking done with his dumb ass.
Lucas is leaving Ella’s room, shaking his head as I’m about to enter. “Bread, man. She wants me to check on her damn bread.” He walks away, closing the door behind him.
Hearing Ella in the bathroom, I try the knob but find it locked. I don’t bother asking for entry and brace my shoulder near the frame, busting inward with little effort.
“You think a locked door is going to keep me from you?” She shakes her head, looking miserable and pale as she continues to heave over the toilet bowl. Grabbing a cloth from under the sink, I soak it in cool water, then fill the sink cup with the liquid. “Is this morning sickness?”
“I don’t know,” she groans.
I kneel beside her, and she sighs as I press the cool cloth to her forehead and wipe her face down, allowing it to settle on the back of her neck.
“What can I do?” This is new territory for me.
“Let me die in peace.” She holds her stomach and moans. “And make sure Lucas doesn’t screw up my bread.”
Baking? She wants me to help bake bread? That’s what Lucas was mumbling about.
“Not sure I’m the right guy for that.” Grabbing the cup of water off the counter, she tries to shoo me away, but I refuse to waver. “Just a small sip. Swirl it around in your mouth a little.” She whines but does as I ask. “Can I run a bath for you?”
She whispers yes but looks like she might pass out.
I help her lean against the wall, then move to the claw-foot tub, turning on the faucet. After adding some Epsom salt and bath oils, I remove Ella’s clothes. When I pick her up, it’s hard not to get turned on by her silky-smooth skin, but I keep the dirty thoughts to myself as I place her in the soothing water.
“Lovely,” she murmurs, her head rolling to the side on the foam pillow.
Reaching for another clean cloth, I soak it and begin gently rubbing her body. Her hair hangs over the tub, remaining dry, but I wash the rest of her, taking extra time between her legs, soothing the pleasurable defilement from this morning as she moans and sighs for more.
“Sshhh, baby, just let Daddy take care of you.”
She whines a bit but does as I ask. Once she’s had some relaxation time, I help her out, wrap her in a towel, and carry her to bed.
Sitting her on the side of the mattress, I remove the towel and admire her rosy body from the heated water. She’s exhausted, but I can’t help staring at her perfection. Lying her down, her reddish-brown hair splayed out on the white lines, she’s like my own angel. One I don’t deserve but won’t let go of.
Before covering her up, I re-enter the bathroom, get the lotion she’s been using, and go back to her. She’s already passed out, but I take the time to warm the lotion between my hands before massaging it into her skin.
My mouth waters for a taste of her, but I keep it to myself. This is about her and earning her trust. Once she’s thoroughly massaged, I pull the blankets over her and watch her slumber for a few minutes before closing the curtains and going downstairs to deal with the shit show that started this entire thing.
“He say what he wanted?” I ask Caleb. He’s helping Owen clean up the bloody mess in my foyer.
“More money after the beating he took the other night.” Caleb scoffs as I roll my eyes.
Tank fucked up. He came to the fight high and fucking lost. After getting a hundred grand out of me, he’s done for in my clubs.
“You set him straight?”
Caleb stands tall and raises a brow at me. “I sent him flying down the fucking stairs is what I did.” Nodding, I go in search of Lucas in the kitchen.
“You didn’t fuck up her bread, did you?” I ask, observing him attempt to shape dough while watching a tutorial.
“She knows we have this in the pantry, right?”
I learned a lot about Ella during dinner, and she’s striving to live a cleaner life. She wants to bake, cook, can…run a house with ingredients that she knows and understands.
“She wants a homestead life.” I just repeat what she told me.
His head flies up, and his eyes widen. “You’re going to buy a fucking farm for this girl.” The accusation isn’t far off. I shrug. “I am not milking fucking cows, Theias. I’ll quit!” That, I doubt.
“You going to tell her no?” He pales slightly at the idea. “That’s what I thought.”
I laugh as I walk away to make some calls.
The first one is to a trusted friend with recommendations for an obstetrician for Ella, and after explaining what I need, there’s a pause on the line. “You sure about this, man? You don’t even know the girl.”
“Charlie,” I growl. “Don’t throw twenty years down the drain.”
Charlie Daniels has been a good friend since I moved to Vegas. We’ve worked together on many occasions, and he knows I’m not an enemy he wants to make.
“Didn’t mean any harm, man. I just didn’t realize you were serious about anyone. I’ll make a few calls, get some names and numbers together, and email you this afternoon.”
“Thanks, Charlie.” I hang up and make another call, this time for the complete opposite reason.
“Hanger, it’s Theias Lorde. We need to talk about Tank. You available around nine tonight?”
Hanger is the manager at Lorde Arena and has been a trusted employee. He organizes most of the fights, and he was the one to point out Tank’s latest indiscretions.
“Anytime you need me, boss.”
“Good. I’ll be bringing my girl. Get the office cleaned up and make sure there are drinks and snacks; she’s pregnant.”
He lets out a long whistle followed by congratulations. I don’t correct him about the kid not being mine. Not yet. That’s between Ella and me only.
After hanging up with him, I call the boutique at one of my hotels, The Royal Lorde.
“Jasmine, how are you?” The older woman has been on my payroll for years, and I trust her implicitly.
“Theias, darling, how nice to hear from you. I’m well. Plugging out new designs and hoping to one day create a masterpiece for your future bride.” Her request is spoken whimsically, not realizing I’m about to make her dream come true.
“What if I told you that day will be sooner than later?” She inhales sharply, telling me all I need to know.
“Then I would say, when can I meet the lady?”
“This evening?”
“Tell me when and where.” Her excitement elicits a smile. Jasmine is the mother hen everyone needs. Though, I’d never admit that out loud.
“I’m bringing her to a meeting tonight. She’ll need a dress, shoes, and lingerie.” I know she’s taking notes.
“Tell me about her.”
Smiling, I close my eyes, thinking of the woman sleeping upstairs. “Fiery auburn hair, fierce temper, emerald eyes, fuck-me lips.” I pause before revealing the last bit. “Pregnant but not showing.”
“You’re going to be a father?” Pleasure rolls through each word.
“I am.”
“What size is she?” Beats the fuck out of me. She takes my pause as her answer. “Slim, a handful, curvy?”
Closing my eyes, I picture Ella naked and in bed. “Hourglass. She has the most beautiful hips.” And her ass makes my mouth water.
“Got it. I’ll see you at seven.”
She hangs up, and I get the feeling that her interest in me will now revolve around Ella.
No complaints here as long as she loves my woman like her own daughter.