Chapter 30
Logan: Any news from Lucian?
Zeke: Yes. I have what we need.
Logan: Since when??
Zeke: Last week.
Logan: What am I missing? Why are we waiting?
Zeke: I’ve been busy.
Logan: Busy? Or too comfortable playing house with Chloe?
ZEKE
A deep satisfaction floods my senses as I scan the news article that’s triggered the Google alert to my phone.
Overnight, several of the nation's largest commercial airlines had to down flights due to a malfunction of their airport check-in software.
In addition to snapshots of pandemonium at major airports, a solo snap of a harassed-looking Anthony Sweeney graces the bottom of the article.
Congratulating myself for phase one well executed, I take a sip of my coffee and gaze out over the city skyline from my office windows.
Unlike most people, I don’t need my opponent to know I’m behind his downfall.
Lawsuits and courtrooms are for patient men.
When someone chooses to fuck with me, I pull at the threads of their existence from afar instead and watch them unravel.
It was almost too easy to hack into X-tech’s systems and place the bug that was sure to be giving that slimy asshole the headache of a lifetime at this very moment.
His stock price has already nosedived five points since 8 A.M., and I’ll bet his reputation in the aviation industry is in the toilet.
The only thing that dampens my quiet elation is that today is the one day of the year I have to face the prospect of dealing with Diego’s mother, Sandra.
I cast my mind back to that moment when I clapped eyes on my son for the first time.
Everything changed in that second. It was like the center of my world shifted to the screaming, goo-covered baby that was plopped down into my arms by a nurse.
The chaos in the delivery suite faded to nothing as his tiny brown eyes blinked up at me.
Time goes too quickly. It feels like yesterday that I was navigating colic and feeding schedules and diapers for the first time.
And here he is, turning five. Checking my watch, I ditch the empty take-out Styrofoam cup in the bin and shrug on my jacket.
The hallways of Guerra Enterprises are empty, given that it’s the weekend, and I quickly make my way down to the parking lot where Bates is waiting to take me home.
It takes us around thirty minutes to get back to the penthouse, the ever-present New York traffic slowing us to a crawl.
When the elevator doors hiss open into the lobby, I’m hit with the smell of sweet vanilla and hear loud music coming from inside.
Sliding my hands into my pockets, I walk through the apartment, coming to a halt at the kitchen door and leaning against the frame.
“Dreams” by Fleetwood Mac blares from the built-in surround sound, punctured by my son's high-pitched giggles as he is whirled and twirled around my Chloe. An uncomfortable warmth flares in my chest as I watch them dance like lunatics. Chloe’s eyes are bright as she laughs, her fiery hair whipping in the air as she spins them both around.
The hem of her baby-blue sundress flares, baring her toned thighs.
My feet move forward of their own accord and on the next spin, Diego’s eyes catch me behind them, and he points a finger.
“Papi’s home!” Chloe’s head jerks around and she flashes me a smile between flushed cheeks that steals the breath from my lungs.
She looks like an angel, so carefree and happy that I don’t even think before I lean down and capture her lips in a kiss.
She freezes beneath me, and I suddenly realize what I’ve done.
When I pull back, her eyes are wide with shock.
Fuck. Clenching my jaw shut, I slide my gaze sideways to see Diego gawping at us. “You kissed her!”
I wince as Chloe drops his hands and grabs up the remote, flicking a button to turn down the music.
“That’s how adults say hello sometimes.” I feel like a piece of shit for lying to him, but I’m already feeling guilty for the hole Chloe will leave in his life when she goes, and I don’t want to get his hopes up.
Hell, I’m starting to worry about the hole she’s going to leave in my life too.
I tell myself Diego is the only reason I’ve not pulled the trigger on my father yet, because the moment I do that, she has no reason to stay.
But I’ve got a creeping suspicion it’s a little more than that.
The deal would be done, her part fulfilled, and she would be free to move out and live her life as she pleased.
My son wouldn’t be the only one who loses her.
“We made cookies,” Chloe says in a tight voice, breaking the silence that has settled over us and pointing to a large tray on the stovetop.
“We made one for you too, Papi. Come look.” Diego threads his fingers into mine, seeming to have forgotten all about the kiss. I allow him to pull me over and see that amongst the standard circular cookies are a jumble of misshapen ones. My brows drag together as I lean over them.
“I forgot that cookies kind of…” Chloe makes a face and moves her hands in what I can only presume to be an impression of a cookie melting out of shape as it cooks.
Shaking my head with a chuckle, I pluck one of the shapes off the tray.
“This is for me?” I ask Diego, faintly recognizing it as a “P.” He nods, flashing me a gummy smile.
“Thanks buddy.” I glance down at the other two shapes, clocking that they are a “D” and a “C.” Well, isn’t this very happy fucking families.
“It wasn’t my idea,” Chloe explains quietly, no doubt sensing my line of thought.
“I’d better go check on the caterers, make sure they’re all set up.
People will be here soon.” I force a tight smile onto my face and swipe a hand over Diego’s cheek before walking out of the kitchen.
I need a drink and I need space to get my head straight.
Because right now, I’m barreling toward something I’m not equipped to deal with.
Something that feels a whole lot like the mess she specifically warned me she didn’t want.