“Fuck!” I grunt when his opponent enters the cage.
Zane would kill him if he knew he was here participating in this, and the last thing I want is to have him on my back. I’d never hear the end of it. Jesus, he’d create an all-out war if Fen ends up with so much as a scratch on his face.
Then again, it’ll be Jensen’s funeral, not mine. I intend to take a long leave with my woman.
“What the fuck is he thinking?” I grind out.
The bell rings, and the opponent rushes him, but Fen ducks, avoiding his fist, then he follows up the move with a swipe of his leg, taking his opponent down before he dives on top of him and delivers blow after blow to the poor guy’s face.
“Holy fuck!” I exhale, striding forward for a better view.
“Fucking finish him,” Jensen bellows, causing me to chuckle.
When Fen is pulled off the guy, he grins and looks deranged. Holy fuck, where the hell has my nephew been hiding? Zane is going to get a wake-up call soon, and judging by the way Fen points toward a tattoo-covered brunette in the crowd, I’d say it’s going to be real soon.
THEA
It’s been three months since my mother passed away, and I struggled to grieve the loss. She just never felt like a part of me, so why would I miss that?
Massio insisted on getting me into therapy, and honestly, I needed it, though I’d never admit that to him. After years of being emotionally neglected and the trauma I suffered as a young girl, learning to live with the memories is easier with him beside me and someone to speak to.
My father is still in my life, through both of our choosing, and I can see now that he struggled to open up to me because of my mother’s threats of taking me away to live with my birth father. A man I have no intention of finding, something Massio and my father support, leading me to believe he’s not a good man to be around. I don’t have the need for anyone else in my life. I have a father who is absent more than present, and a Daddy who showers me with love and affection.
I’m slowly creating a strong bond with Massio’s family. Their bond is something I’ve never witnessed before, and now that they’ve accepted me into the family, I feel closer than ever to the man I love, my husband.
“Home!” Massio exhales loudly as we pull into our driveway.
Two months ago, he purchased the first home we viewed, and I was beyond excited to move in and make it our own.
It’s smaller than Massio anticipated us having, claiming all the babies we were going to make wouldn’t fit in the house, but when I told him how much I fell in love with it, he relented.
“I swear I love my family, but they can be too much.” He pushes his hand through his hair, and I giggle. “There’s a reason I enjoyed being away from them so much.”
“Stop.” I smile, biting into my lip.
“Baby? Sal wants us to move in with him because he doesn’t want to miss anything with becoming a papi?” His eyes are as wide as saucers. “He realizes it’s not his kid, right?”
I roll my eyes.
“Maybe it’s the first opportunity he will have of having a baby in the family and watching it grow? Fern and Fenton were raised by nannies and went to boarding school as soon as they were old enough. Fern said she thinks Sal always wanted his own kids, but she thinks he’s held back all these years due to feeling guilty that you guys would feel pushed out.” Sadness twists deep inside me, and my hand finds my stomach.
Massio’s eyes connect with my hand, and his eyes soften. “You’re right, I’ll be more patient with him.” I smile back at him, and he climbs out of the SUV. “But he’s not coming to the birthing classes, Thea. I draw a line there.”
Massio rounds the SUV and opens my car door, then takes my hand in his and tugs me out.
“He’s interested,” I say, rubbing my growing bump.
“Then maybe he should knock up a woman and have his own damn baby,” he clips out, and we head inside.
When the door closes behind him, I feel the tension leave his body. This is where Massio thrives—when we’re alone, in the comfort of our own home with nobody to impress.
He undoes the buttons on his shirt and strides into the kitchen. I kick my sneakers off and head straight into the family room, and a thrill of anticipation rushes up my spine at what’s to come.
Without needing to be prompted, I lift my summer dress over my head, unclip my bra, and wait with bated breath for him to follow after me.
“Fuuuckkk.” The word flows from him like velvet. When I cast my eyes up, he’s leaning against the doorjamb with a whiskey in one hand and his shirt missing, exposing every ridge of his abs.
“Can you crawl for Daddy, Little Brat?” he growls.
