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For a long moment, I stare at the door.
But Sybil isn't coming back out. Because she's crying. I made her fuckingcry.
I run my hands up my face and through my hair, dismayed and irritated. I'd anticipated more of her fury when I said what I did. More of our verbal sparring until she would confess that she slept with me because she wanted to—because we both wanted to.
I didn't wantthat.
Short-tempered and irritated at the slight twinge of shame in my gut, I button my shirt and step out of the apartment. I need to put more space between us, so I won't break down the door and do something irrational—like trying to comfort her when I'm the last person she wants to see. Or I could demand that she officially agree to the contract.
Because I'm right, and Sybil agrees even if she doesn't want to admit it. This arrangement would solve both of our problems. The Attolini family doesn't offer protection to civilians often, let alone indefinitely. Many businesses pay handsomely for our unmatched security, but we can't offer something for nothing. If Sybil signs a contract with me, that will pass as business. She'd be well-protected, along with her loved ones.
Meanwhile, I'd be getting what I need. What I'm starting to want. An heir.
Only with her.I rub my face again. Four years of trying to forget her were useless. Being with her makes me as foolish as it did then, but I've made my choice. I want her for this. No one else.
"Tell me it didn't happen this quickly last time." I glare at Percy as he traipses up the stairs again like the most chipper bear-sized man in the world. He folds his arms and grins at me from a distance. "Or did it? You always get down to business fast, but I figured you'd take your time with her."
"You think your jokes are funny. Good. Cutting your tongue out on a low note would be a real shame."
Percy stifles another laugh and nods at the door. "So, you just hit it and quit it? Tell me you at least—"
I give him a look that shuts him up. What happened in there is none of his business. Percy might be my oldest friend, but he's still my subordinate. Not to mention, I don't want anything about Sybil getting back to my father, and The Kid has looser lips than I realized.
"Have you talked to Giovanni?" I ask.
He sighs. "Fine. We'll talk shop since you're so opposed to talking pleasure. Yeah, Ol' Giovanni called earlier, said something about a package that will need your signature sometime tomorrow. He was really vague about it, but I get the feeling he wasn't talking about UPS."
"Anything else?"
"Danny let us know that he took care of the mess in the woods. Someone else called, too—someone looking for a fat cat named 'Mr. Fiore?'" Percy bounces his eyebrows, clearly amused.
That's the last name I chose to do business under when I decided to build my own success independent of my father's empire. It was my mother's maiden name and distanced me from the Attolini family enough that my diversified investments and business associates rarely arched a brow.
It's paid off, having another identity, and sometimes I feel like Dom Fiore more than The Undertaker. Percy is one of the few who know about my less bloodied life.
"And?" I ask, expectant.
"And what do you think? I forwarded the call over to your cute little assistant. How is she, by the way? Still single?"
He's forever asking about Sarah, the quiet, mousy professional I hired over a year ago. My friend's taste in women baffles me—either loose strippers or academic librarian types, nothing in between. Unlike the others, Sarah would probably know how to handle the big lug. Heaven knows she deals with worse, handling so much of my business. Maybe she would fall for his shitty pickup lines, maybe not.
But I have rules about not crossing my personal business with the Attolini family. "Still off-limits."
Percy grunts and glances at the door to the apartment. "Speaking of off-limits, what happened, huh? I thought you swore her off years ago and weren't going to go near her again—or could you just not help yourself?"
I couldn't help myself."The situation changed," I say instead.
His skeptical look dissolves into interest. "Back up. Does this have something to do with your meeting? Why? What'd Big Man tell you?"
"Only that my closest ally is as gossipy as a twelve-year-old girl. Not that it was news."
My friend smiles sheepishly. "Hey, he asks for updates now and then, okay? I keep them general. Not that I could give him many riveting details since you aren't much of a sharer." He gives me a pointed look.
I'm tempted to tell him to fuck off, but if Sybil agrees to the contract—and she will—then he will find out about the arrangement eventually. I scratch my jaw and sigh. "My father said I need an heir."
He doesn't catch on for almost a full thirty seconds, but when he does, his bushy brows almost fly up into his hairline. "Holy shit. Nico, are you really going to…."
"I'm going to be thePadrinofinally," I agree.
