He’s staring at me with that cold, harsh gaze, awaiting my response, so I tell it as I see it. “The kind who maims and kills and doesn’t lose a wink of sleep over it.”
“I am all that and more,” he agrees, stalking toward me, eating up the small gap between us. I retreat until I hit the end of the wall and I can’t retreat any more. “And you would do well to remember it.” The tips of his fingers brush against my sore throat, and I detest the flurry of fiery tingles his touch invokes against my sensitive flesh.
Why can’t I feel this when Dion touches me? Why do I have to crave the man who would sooner crush me than treat me with any kindness? I am under no illusion here. Ben wants Rowan, and I’m only part of the package because he knows he needs me to take care of his son while he’s off building his crooked business empire.
“I’m not scared of you,” I lie. He chuckles, and I’m back to wanting to punch him again. “And I won’t apologize for doing what I did to protect my son.”
All humor fades from his face as a familiar thunderous darkness washes over his features. His piercing blue eyes—the same ones his son shares—penetrate my skull as if his gaze is a knife slicing through skin and bone. He presses his body flush against mine, forcing my chin upright. “My son doesnotneed protection from me.” A muscle pops in his jaw. “But he does need protection from my enemies. You both do. If word got out, they would come for you and Rowan. You are both targets now.”
Fear whittles through me, but I compartmentalize, focusing on damage control. I won’t agree to this, but I’m not stupid either. Ben is a powerful, dangerous man with considerable resources at his disposal. If I refuse, he will just take Rowan anyway, and I cannot bear the thought of him being separated from me. My only option is to appeal to whatever sliver of humanity still lingers in his bones.
“No one knows, Ben. Your name isn’t on his birth certificate, and only two of my friends know the truth, and they will take the secret to their graves. You can leave and no one will be the wiser.” He opens his mouth, to spit more hatred at me, I’m sure, but I talk over him. “Rowan is happy here. He loves school, and he loves this house, and he is best friends with his cousin Romeo. Pulling him away from everything he has ever known will unsettle him.” I peer deep into his eyes, pleading with everything I’ve got. “Please don’t force me to do this. I’m begging you.”
“You should never beg, Sierra,” he says, but the hard edge to his tone is missing.
A little surge of hope springs to life inside me.
Releasing my chin, he steps back, rubbing his hands down his cheeks. “I don’t want to upset him or unsettle him, but you can’t ask me to turn my back on him. I cannot do that, Sierra. I know what it’s like to grow up without a father, and I’m not inflicting that suffering and guilt and self-doubt on my child.” Pain flares briefly in his eyes. “You said no one knows, but two people do.”
“My friends would never tell.”
“Our enemies have ways of torturing the truth from hardened men who have been trained to keep secrets. If they get their hands on Esme or Penelope, they will sing like a canary.”
He references my besties with the confidence of someone used to extracting truths. If he can make the connection that easily, it doesn’t bode well for others who might come looking. “How would anyone even know to come here? Know anything about me?”
“Have you forgotten the men in that basement in Vegas?” he asks.
A shudder works its way through me. “I haven’t forgotten a single thing about that night,” I say, scowling when his lips curve into a salacious grin. “Are you saying Scarface Salerno is your enemy now?”
He shakes his head, propping his butt against the arm of my couch. “Vegas is an ally, but situations can change overnight. He knows who you are. No doubt he still has the recording from the bedroom.” Ben smirks. “He probably jacks off to it nightly.”
My face pulls into a grimace. “Not helpful, and can we stay focused.”
I’m getting hot thinking about the more pleasant aspects of that night, and I won’t let him distract me.
“The point is, your friends knowing is a risk. If you stay here, you put them at risk as well as yourself and Rowan.”
“We have lived here for five years, and nothing has happened,” I protest.
“That doesn’t mean it will last forever.” Exhaling heavily, he stands. “Look, it’s late. Let’s sleep on it and talk again tomorrow.”
I know he has no intention of letting it go. I see the determination glinting in his eyes. Yet, buying some time to think of options is better than the alternative right now. “Okay.” Briefly, I consider packing Rowan up and fleeing in the night, but I doubt I could find any place on the planet to hide where Ben wouldn’t find us. A life on the run, constantly looking over our shoulders, is not the kind of life I have in mind for my son.
He taps out a message on his cell phone. “Walk me to the door,” he demands, and I barely resist the urge to flip him off. He’s so damn bossy.
I startle when I open the front door, finding a tall guy about my age standing right there. “Fuck.” I slam a hand over my chest, sure my heart is going to short-circuit this time. There are only so many frights it can handle in one night.
The guy looks me up and down.
“Eyes on my face,” Ben snaps, and I jerk my head up.
“Sorry, boss.” The man sounds contrite, but you can’t tell from his face which is a master class in nothing. He obviously attended the same school as Ben—both have the art of emotionless expressions down pat.
“This is Alessandro,” Ben explains.
“Hi. I’m Sierra.” I don’t smile, but my tone is pleasant.
“It’s nice to meet you,” he says, offering me a slight smile. He’s good-looking with dark hair and warm brown eyes, and I’m betting he does well with the ladies. He has that whole moody, broody vibe working for him.
