Chapter 4
Stefan
“No, no, that don't match.” Dani's cute, little face scrunched up at my mistake. Of course, I'd done it on purpose. Just to tease her. I loved my niece. And I'd do just about anything for her.
“No? Are you sure?” I asked. When I looked up, I saw Giselle smiling down at me. She had a glass of horrible green stuff.
“See?” Dani held up a square card. “Dis one's a cupcake. And dat one's a banana. Dey don't match. You lose.” She had a very serious look on her face. A face that was nearly identical to her mother's.
“Oh, well. Uncle Stefan can try again later, sweetie. Why don't you go see what Auntie Evie's doing? She might need help with the babies.” Eve crouched down and gave her daughter a hug and a kiss.
Fuck.
Every time I saw those two together, my heart fuckin' hurt. The bond they had was so tight. I wondered what it would be like in five or ten years.
“Okay,” Dani said as her little girl arms wrapped around her mother's neck, and she gave her a kiss. We both watched Dani hurry off out of the living room. Once she was gone, Giselle carefully sat down beside me—and handed over the green drink.
I took it from her mostly because I didn't want her to spill. “Sweetheart, I think I've had enough of these.” I held up the glass of green viscous sludge. It looked bad but it tasted even worse.
“Look how much stronger you've gotten since you've been drinking them, though.” She maneuvered herself closer to me and snuggled in.
Both she and Eve had been taking care of me.
Giselle took the morning shift, and then Eve would take over in the afternoon when her kids went down for naps.
Obviously, they didn't announce this, but after a few days I saw a pattern develop.
Not that I was complaining. I loved both of these women.
Allowing them to do this not only benefited me, but it also calmed them.
Especially Eve. It had taken her a good day or two not to burst into tears every time she saw me.
The woman was worried. And yes, that bothered me to the core.
The last thing in the world I wanted was to be a burden on her or Giselle.
But I was a selfish bastard, and I liked the fact that they cared.
“You're right. These green drinks have cured me. I don't need them anymore.”
Giselle giggled and raised her head from my shoulder.
“Drink. And then we can make out for a while.” She gave me a sexy as fuck grin and waggled her eyebrows.
Now, normally, a hot make out session with Giselle would turn me right the fuck on.
But at the moment—I was still pretty fuckin' raw.
None of the searchers had been successful at finding Francesca.
Yet.
And I knew that every passing hour meant she could be further and further away from me. And it wasn't like she wanted to be found. That was the real kicker. After everything we shared—she'd fuckin' left me. High and dry.
It made no sense.
“How about—you—drink this and then we make out for a while?” I teased Giselle, offering her the sludge in the glass.
She laughed again and then moved the glass to my lips. “After you drink some of this.”
So.
I did.
For her.
Just like I'd done every morning. I managed to drink about half of it before she kissed me.
Her lips were so warm and soft—I gave in.
She moaned and opened her mouth for me. Our tongues touched—lightly at first. She tasted like strawberries.
Which was likely a whole lot better than what I tasted like after drinking that green sludge.
But she didn't seem to mind. No, Giselle willingly drank a glass of green sludge every morning.
Her hand found mine, and she slid it up to her breast. Giselle had fantastic fucking breasts.
Huge.
I'd gotten to know Giselle's breasts quite well.
My cock stirred as my thumb grazed over her hard nipple. She whimpered and kissed me deeper. Then her hand slipped down my stomach to my cock. Feeling her touch on me again made me grow instantly hard. My body wanted this. Wanted Giselle.
Carlo had given his consent to let us do anything we wanted. It would be really fucking amazing to be balls deep inside of Giselle again.
“Let's go to your room,” she whispered against my mouth. “Please?” Her lips were back on mine. Her body pressing further into me.
I kissed her for a few more minutes before I tore my lips away.
I couldn't do this.
It felt—wrong.
Well, yeah, it felt fucking fantastic. But it also felt wrong.
Mainly because I wished it was Francesca kissing me back instead of Giselle.
“Let me make you feel better, honey.” Giselle's hand rubbed my cock. If she kept at it, I might come directly in my pants. I covered her hand with mine and moved it to my chest. “Not right now. But thank you for the offer.”
Someone cleared their throat, making us turn to see who was there.
My brother.
“Give us a minute,” he said, his eyes on Giselle.
She sighed and gave me a quick kiss. “Let me know if you change your mind. I'm all worked up now.” She smiled and touched my cheek before standing.
She swayed up to Carlo, and he pulled her in for a kiss of his own. “I can help you with that later. During naptime.” Then he laid a deep kiss on her, tipping her back until she laughed. I thought about looking away.
When I first got here, I absolutely looked away every time they kissed. Or touched.
But something had changed. I wasn't sure what it was—but now, whenever my brother walked into the room, I no longer felt like punching him in the face. He even made me laugh the other day. Despite myself.
Carlo and I were brothers. We'd grown up together in the same household. We fought. Many times.
But this last fight—over Giselle—had been a whole different beast. It brought out a hate for my brother that I hadn't known existed inside of me.
And then—Carlo won.
It wasn't like we were in the ring and Carlo had one day defeated me.
No.
It was like he rose up from underneath us and swallowed Giselle whole. Before I even knew it.
He'd arranged everything perfectly.
I could see that now. Of course, back then, I couldn't see a damn thing. I took my brother at his word. I'd assumed Carlo would play fair. And he hadn't.
He'd done whatever he had to.
And I didn't.
So, yeah.
Carlo had won.
And that fucking stung.
The thing that kept ringing in my ears was Francesca. And how she'd said, “Are you sure what he stole from you was really yours in the first place?”
Francesca hadn't known what I was talking about. Obviously.
Explaining how I was still pissed that my brother stole my woman away wasn't exactly something I'd wanted to discuss with her.
But what she said—hit me. And had stuck.
Because—
No.
Maybe Giselle hadn't been mine to begin with. Maybe she was always meant to be with Carlo. Have his babies.
Not mine.
And maybe I was okay with that.
Being with Francesca had changed things.
Being with Francesca was unlike being with—anyone.
Carlo let Giselle back up again and slapped her gently on the ass. “Love you,” he whispered to her. But I heard.
And surprisingly—it didn't cut me.
Giselle wandered off down the hall, and Carlo turned. He jerked his head toward the patio doors. “Outside.”
With a sigh, I stood and followed him out. I shut the door behind me and then grabbed a seat at the long patio table. “I'm guessing you have news?” I asked after a minute of silence from him. If it was something else, he would have spoken freely in front of Giselle.
“What do you want first?” he asked, gazing out at the pool. “Francesca? Or Raul?”
My stomach roiled at those options.
“Who the fuck do you think?” I shot back instantly.
“They found her phone,” he said so nonchalantly, I was back to wanting to bash his head in again.
“And?” My voice rose as my fists clenched.
He glanced at me and said, “It was in a ditch. Near her apartment. So far, they haven't been able to get anything off it. But they’re still trying. No other news on that front.”
I felt my heart rate go up exponentially. “Get Asher on it. He'll find her.”
The sound of the patio door sliding open interrupted us. “He's in Italy. Working on another job,” Nick said, then walked to the table. He pulled out a chair and sat down.
I shook my head and huffed. “No, Asher's in Italy fucking a load of Italian pussy,” I stated the obvious. Because that was absolutely what Eve's brother was doing at the moment. I could guarantee it.
“Well, likely that, too.” Nick smirked and lifted his brows. “As we all did at one point.”
I wasn't in the mood to talk about the old days. Or how much Italian pussy we'd all had.
“My point is, Asher should be here.” I stabbed my finger onto the table.
“Finding Francesca. Not off in fucking Italy having a good time.
Fly the asshole home. He's the only one who will be able to track her down.” And he was.
Asher had talents that none of us had ever seen before.
Especially not at such a young age. The guy was barely into his twenties.
Which was pretty fuckin' scary. Just thinking about how he'd develop and sharpen his skills as he got older.
Christ.
In twenty years, the guy would be unstoppable.
Carlo and Nick shared a look. A look that I didn't like.
Nick turned to me. “It's been two weeks, Stefan.” His voice sounded partly condescending—and partly full of pity. “Her trail's gone cold. Asher can pick it up when he gets back. He's doing some—work for us. Regarding Raul.”
Fuck me.
Now I wanted to punch Nick in the face.
“Yeah, it's grown cold because you didn't call Asher in immediately. Like I fuckin' asked you to. And fuck Raul,” I spat out. Angry that my brother and my best friend wouldn't go to bat for me. “If it was Giselle or Eve, you would have called Asher.”
There.
I'd laid it out for them. And it was true, too. They would have called in every fuckin' favor for their women. Hell, they had done exactly that when they'd had to. We all knew it.