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But I really don't want to fucking tell her what I learned today.
I don't have a choice though. She has every right to know where she came from and I won't hide that from her, no matter if it does worry the fuck out of me.
"Come on," I murmur, reluctantly pulling back. "Let's get you cleaned up."
I pull out of her, groaning when I lose her heat, and then reach for tissues to clean her up. She blushes, which makes me smile. She's so damn shy. I can't wait to fuck that out of her. It'll probably take a lifetime, but I'm up for the task.
"Your brothers are good for business," she says once her clothes are back in order. "We should have hot guy days around here way more often."
I narrow my eyes on her.
"I'm just saying," she says, holding her hands up. "Books have been flying off the shelves all day long. Silas may be a creepy stalker, but he turned this place into every woman's fantasy. It's like book boyfriend mecca out there."
"You aren't allowed to have book boyfriends, Scarlett."
"Uh, yes, I am, Super-spy Finn Taylor."
"Do not make me spank you."
"Please do." She grins at me, waggling her brows suggestively.
I shake my head, pulling her toward me to kiss the shit out of her. "No book boyfriends unless they look like me, Scarlett Crawford from Gatsby Books."
"Fine," she mutters. "But then you better do book boyfriend things or I'm going to be highly upset, Super-spy Finn Taylor."
"I'll do whatever you want. Especially if it involves getting you naked, pretty baby."
She laughs quietly.
I kiss her again and then sigh. "Silas isn't a stalker, Scarlett."
"Well, that's a relief," she whispers, her shoulders slumping. "Um, who is he?"
"He's a private investigator, pretty baby."
Her brows furrow, confusion filtering through her expression. "A private investigator? Why in the world is a private investigator following me around?" Her gaze flits across my face. "Please tell me Aunt Ophelia didn't do something completely insane."
"This isn't about Ophelia," I murmur, running my hands up and down her back. "He was hired to find you."
Her mouth opens into a little "o", her face scrunching up. "What in the world is going on, Finn? Why is a private investigator looking for me? Who hired him?"
I expel a breath and tell her the truth. "Your biological brother hired him, Scarlett. He's been looking for you since he found out you existed."
"My…?" The color falls from her face, her eyes growing wide and misty. "I have a brother?"
"Yeah, pretty baby," I whisper. "You do."
"Finn," she whispers.
"That's not all," I warn her, trying to prepare her for the parts I don't fucking like at all.
"Tell me," she demands.
"His name is Domani Brambilla. He works for Rafael Valentino…the head of the mafia in Chicago."
Her wide hazel eyes flit back and forth across my face as if she thinks I'm messing with her. Whatever she sees on my face seems to convince her that I'm dead serious. "You're serious," she whispers, gaping at me. "I have a brother in themafia?"
"You do," I confirm. Silas turned over every scrap of information he had so I could check it out myself. I spent all afternoon pouring through the records, trying to prove that he had the wrong girl. He doesn't. Scarlett's biological mom had an affair with Enzo Brambilla twenty-five years ago. When she turned up pregnant, he turned her out. With nowhere to go and no money to her name, she put the baby up for adoption. Brambilla made sure the adoption records stayed buried.
