“Phillip has already sent me the details of the homeowners. I will have a house secured by the end of the day.”
I climb out of the Merc and shut the door the same time Alessandro steps out of the SUV. “Did everything go okay?” I ask him when we are side by side.
He nods, fighting a yawn. “Frank is outside her sister’s place.”
“Good,” I say though it does little to ease the tightness in my chest. I won’t rest easy until Rowan and Sierra are safely hidden behind the towering walls of my Greenwich estate, far away from prying eyes. It pains me to have to leave them here for the moment, but I am putting things in motion to ensure they are protected. If I could conduct my business from Chicago, I would stake temporary roots here, but I can’t.
“I still can’t believe you have a son though you only need to look at the little guy to know he’s yours,” Alessandro says, showcasing a rare smile.
“That’s what I’m afraid of,” I admit. I told Frank and Alessandro what is going on last night as they are the only two men I trust to guard my son and his mother. Outside of my father and my sister, only Leo, Frank, Alessandro, and Ian—the backup nighttime guard Leo will shortly be putting on a plane—will be aware of my heir’s existence. I’m not personally familiar with Ian, but Frank and Leo vouched for him—he’s their cousin, on their mom’s side—and that’s good enough for me.
Telling anyone else is too risky.
Especially right now.
“Don’t worry, boss. We will keep them safe.”
I clamp a hand on his shoulder, nodding before I walk toward Sierra’s front door.
The door swings open before I can knock, and Sierra appears in the doorway. Her hair is in a messy bun on top of her head, and her face is devoid of makeup, clearly highlighting the bruising shadows under her eyes and the worry lines on her brow. She obviously got as little sleep as I did last night. Her black yoga pants mold to her slim toned legs, and her top hangs off one shoulder, offering a glimpse of tantalizing skin. She’s barefoot, and her toenails are painted an oxblood-red color. I don’t have a foot fetish, but looking at her dainty manicured feet and her dark-red nails, I could easily develop one. I have a strange urge to suck on her tempting toes.
Sierra is effortlessly beautiful in a way most women aren’t. She’s not even trying. She has made zero effort on my behalf, and that only makes me appreciate her more. She is the most beautiful woman I’ve ever known, and that’s not counting the inner beauty that radiates from her every pore.
Sierra is a good person, and I hate that I am dragging her into my world, but that decision was taken out of my hands years ago.
The moment she got pregnant, her fate was sealed.
I’m not the only one doing the checking out. Determined green eyes roam over every inch of my body as Sierra drinks me in. If she is disappointed I’m wearing a business suit and not casually attired, she doesn’t show it. We haven’t said one word yet, and she silently steps aside to let me enter. After she closes the door, I follow her into the kitchen. “Coffee?” she inquires, lifting one brow, and I nod. “Do you take cream and sugar?” I shake my head. “Black. Just like your soul. Got it,” she adds with the merest hint of humor.
That raises a slight smile. Removing my suit jacket, I hang it on the back of one of the kitchen chairs. I take a seat at the dark wood table, letting my gaze wander around the homey room as I roll my sleeves to my elbows. Sierra has painted the kitchen cupboards a soothing pale blue, and it works well against the speckled marble countertops and the cream tiled floor. A myriad of colorful drawings adorns the buttery walls. Some I clearly recognize as Sierra’s handiwork, but most are my son’s. “I see Rowan inherited your artistic flare,” I say as she sets a mug on the table in front of me.
“He loves art, and he’s very talented. But he loves sports and nature and science, and he enjoys reading and playing games too. He’s well-rounded.” She claims a chair at the other end of the table, deliberately keeping her distance.
“I look forward to getting to know him.”
“Is that really what you want?” she asks, running the tip of her finger along the rim of her mug.
I frown. “Of course. Why wouldn’t I want to?”
“I imagine having a kid won’t mesh easily with your lifestyle.”
“It won’t, but we’ll make it work.”
Her expression turns frosty. “We’re not moving to New York.” She drills me with a sharp look. “I’m not uprooting our lives to suit you. This is about doing what’s best for Rowan, and you have a long way to go to convince me having you in his life is what is best for my son.”
Her words piss me off. “I want to be a father to my son. Yes, the world I inhabit may not be ideal, but he will want for nothing. You will want for nothing, and I will ensure you are both safe.”
“Look around,” she says, waving her arm in the air. “Does it look like we want for anything?”
I prop my elbows on the table. “My son is lacking a father. I didn’t think that required spelling out,” I say through gritted teeth. “Don’t push me, Sierra, because you won’t like the way I push back.”
A muscle clenches in her jaw as she glares at me. I see we’re back to this. She was pleasant when I arrived, and I stupidly thought we could discuss this like grown-ups, but it seems she’s determined to press every one of my buttons.
“How did you find out?” she demands, clasping her mug between both her hands. “You never answered me last night.”
“Saskia didn’t tell you?”
Her brow puckers. “Saskia? What’s my sister got to do with it?”
“I was in town for a funeral, and I spotted Saskia on the sidewalk with Rowan. I pulled over to talk to her.”
“Why?”
I lean back in my seat. Honestly, I have no clue why I got Alessandro to stop. Maybe it was gut instinct. Some sixth sense drawing me to my kid. I should tell Sierra that, but maybe it’s time I pushed some buttons of my own. I smirk. “In case you’ve forgotten, I was close with your sister at one time. I wanted to say hi.”
“You wanted to say hi to Saskia?” she repeats, her eyes darting all over my face.
“Is it a crime to say hello to an ex?” I smirk into my coffee as I bring the mug to my lips.
“She never mentioned you,” she retorts, shrugging.
“That might have something to do with her slipping her business card in my pocket and asking me to call her to arrange a hookup.”
Hurt shimmers in her eyes, quickly replaced with anger. “That sounds like Saskia. I can’t imagine her husband being too pleased though. You should tread carefully.”
I bark out a laugh, tapping my fingers on the table. “Felix Barretta doesn’t scare me.”
Shock splays across her face. “You know Saskia’s husband?”
“I looked him up.”
A scowl trips over her pretty face, and I decide to go on a fishing expedition to see what, if anything, Sierra knows.
“What’s he like? What line of business is he in?”
“I don’t know him very well. I’m not close to Saskia, and I don’t spend much time with her or her husband. He travels a lot for work. He’s some kind of business adviser.”