When I hold out my hands in preparation to tickle him until he pees his pants, he screams blue murder. He hates being tickled. I don’t blame him. It’s the most emasculating thing in the world. He may only be three, but even he doesn’t want his reputation ruined by his father’s unkosher parenting.
“All right, all right, calm down,” I say when his screams ramp up to a level that would wake the dead. “I’ll save my tickles for Fien.”
Matteo wipes at his sweaty brow before plopping his backside onto his bed. “Phew, ‘cause I need to go potty.”
When he charges for the attached bathroom, I spot a stalker I’m stunned he missed. Usually, not a mountain full of candy steals his devotion from his mother when she’s in the room.
“Let me guess. You threatened to tickle him, didn’t you?” Roxanne saunters into the room, her hips swinging more when she notices my thirsty watch. When my half-smirk answers her question on my behalf, she pulls my hands away from my body, then slips onto my lap.
“Don’t fucking tempt me,” I growl under my breath when she moans about the reaction my body had to her seductive walk. “Our son is in the bathroom most likely peeing all over the seat, and our daughter is asleep in the room next to us. I don’t have the time nor the privacy needed to work through all your kinks.”
Roxanne smiles during the first half of my statement, coos at the second, then straight-up pouts throughout the ending. “I didn’t come here to tease you.” The whine her words are delivered with reveals she’s lying. Alas, her wish for me to see sense through the madness is stronger than praying our son falls asleep in the bathroom. “I just wanted to remind you to look at Nikolai like Fien did Matteo when he was born. The connection is there somewhere.” She holds her hand over my heart. “It’s just buried really, really, really deep.”
“Deep enough to ever find?” I ask before I can stop myself.
My kids have made me weak.
My wife has made me weak.
But I still wouldn’t change one goddamn thing about my life.
Roxanne cups my jaw like she did while reminding me I’m not fighting alone before nodding. “If you’re willing to dig deep enough, you’ll eventually find it.”
Stealing my chance to reply, she presses her lips to mine. The wish for a murderous bloodbath skates through my veins when she fails to open her mouth at the demand of my lashing tongue. I get why she’s holding back, I can feel Matteo’s beady eyes all the way from the bathroom. I just fucking hate that she’s holding back.
Her lips bring me back from the brink. They could very well be the only thing that will see me coming out of today without the blood of my brother on the sleeve of my dress shirt, so I’m not willing to give them up for anything.
“Matteo, close your eyes.”
Like the good foot solider he’s endeavoring to become, he snaps his eyes shut in an instant. Always one step ahead of his competitors, he doubles his assurance he can follow orders by clamping his hands over his eyes, and even quicker than that, I ram my tongue down his mother’s throat, then kiss her with everything I have.
It isn’t the brightest idea I’ve ever had. Now I have to work out how to exit Matteo’s room without him spotting the tent I’m pitching in my pants, but I’d do it all again in an instant if it gives me the same calm, nurturing effect. My life isn’t anything close to pretty, but Roxanne’s lips on mine remind me that even the most hideous paintings can be seen as artistic when viewed by the right set of eyes.
“Don’t shower until I’m home,” I murmur against Roxanne’s lips after reluctantly pulling back. “Your candy mouth fills my lungs with air, but the greedy sucks of your cunt make breathing an unnecessary requirement.”
It dawns on me little ears are listening when Matteo giggles about me saying the word ‘cunt.’ He has no clue what it means. He merely knows it’s a word he isn’t allowed to say until he’s much, much older.
After a final bite of Roxanne’s kiss swollen lips, I stand to my feet with her in my arms. I place her onto Matteo’s bed, then swing my eyes to my son standing in the doorway of his bathroom with his eyes still clamped. “You’re the man of the house now, Matteo. Make sure you take good care of Mama and Sissy until I get back.” I do three big strides to the door before stopping and arching back. “And if Uncle Rocco gets into too much mischief, take care of him as well.”
Matteo’s grin reveals he looks forward to riling Rocco as much as Rocco enjoys riling me. “I will, Dada.”
As he bounds across the room to update his mother on all the things he plans to do today, I exit his room. My shoulders grow heavier with every step I take. Confrontations don’t faze me, but keeping my family hidden is a challenge I’m slowly growing weary of. I renege on my decision almost every month. The only reason I’ve stuck to my guns so far is recalling the boot-size bruise on Roxanne’s hip four years ago. I failed her back then. She was hurt on my watch, so you can put money on it that I’ll do everything in my power to ensure it doesn’t happen again.
4
Dimitri
With the hour early, I make it to the Walsh residence before Nikolai. The two-story home is one of the best in the street, but it’s nothing close to the sprawling mansion I collected Justine from for our first date. Either the Walsh children are scroogie with their money, or their parents refuse to accept donations from their offspring. Whatever it is, they’re living well below their means.
I’d dig a little deeper into their financials if I weren’t aware somebody else already has. The ownership in Nikolai’s eyes when he rocked up unannounced last year revealed he’d go to the end of the earth for Justine, so buying her family estate for double the asking price seemed like the next logical step.
I invested well when I bought stakes in the Walsh entity, and no, I’m not solely referring to their beachside mansion either. Landon was still sour about his first tussle with a Mafia Prince when I rocked up at his place of employment a month after Nikolai left town for the second time. He didn’t make it out of that exchange the same man.
“Has Nikolai arrived yet?” I ask Smith while skimming past the hedges lining one side of the Walsh’s rented home.
I doubt the family dog will bark. Smith sent a crew here early this morning in preparation for my arrival. I still get my hands dirty when it comes to all aspects of my businesses—excluding whores. Not only am I disinterested in them, Roxanne would gut them where they stood if they stupidly thought they had the chance to come between us—but I now leave the fiddly shit to my men. The more duties I pass on, the more time I have with my family. Considering I lost almost two years with Fien, you can be assured I’ve become a master of delegation the past four years.
“Not yet. Didn’t you hear? His flight isn’t scheduled to land until lunch.”
I work my jaw side to side. “If you believe that—”
“I need to find myself a new fucking job,” Smith interrupts, laughing. “Nikolai doesn’t travel during the day because the devil has never seen a sunrise, meaning—”