“I never should have left them in Chicago. I should have taken them to Greenwich last weekend—even if I had to drag Sierra kicking and screaming.”
“It’s not your fault.” Leo leans forward, uncapping a bottle of water. “You got the intel from those Russian scum on Saturday night, and we took care of their base. You couldn’t have known there were more of them hanging around or that someone went rogue. He must have spotted you with Sierra outside the hotel and decided to target her.”
“I am going to find every last one of those scumbags and hang them by their entrails until they bleed out.” I crack my knuckles as a red haze coats my eyes. “No one fucks with my girl and gets away with it.”
Leo’s lips twitch.
“What?”
“It’s just nice to hear you acknowledging it.”
I realize what I said. “Stop. I don’t have time for this now.” I scrub my hands down my face, stifling a yawn. I have barely had any sleep the past few days, working around the clock with Gifoli and The Outfit to hunt down the rest of the Russians, to ensure the city was safe. I would have stayed in Chicago if I didn’t have pressing business in New York. It’s a miracle I’m even able to stand, but the need to protect my family is driving me forward. I just want to take Sierra and Rowan and hole up in my house for a few days.
Leo wisely drops the subject. “You’ll have to admit the truth to Lawson, if he hasn’t already guessed.”
I unbutton the top button of my shirt and loosen my tie—I feel like it’s choking me today. “I know. He was peppering me with questions on the phone, and I told him we’d speak when I arrive. I messaged Sierra, telling her to say nothing. She has been through enough trauma today without being the one to break the news to her father. I want to be there with her when her family finds out.”
Her father has always been a prick to her, and I don’t want him mouthing off at Sierra when I’m not there to protect her. I have no clue how Joseph Lawson will react when he discovers I am Rowan’s father. He was civil and respectful to me at the gala event, with no hint of the derision he used to hold for me in evidence, but the man is a master manipulator, and who’s to say it wasn’t all an act? Gifoli would have told him who I am, and he isn’t stupid. He has provided a service to The Outfit for long enough to know how things happen in mafia circles. He would know to disrespect me places a target on his head and his family by default. So, he could have been playing an expected part.
“He’s a conniving cunt,” Leo says, gulping back water. “He will try to use this to his advantage.”
“He can try, but I’m not the same man he remembers. He can’t shout insults or push me around like he once tried to. I have little love for the man, and Sierra doesn’t either. Only the fact he is Rowan’s grandfather will protect him.”
The plane lands, and we hop on board the helicopter, staying silent as we travel toward the Lawson family estate. I didn’t mention we would be landing on his front lawn when I spoke to Joseph, but if he’s got a problem with it, I’ll be glad to take all my pent-up aggression out on his face.
We arrive fifteen minutes later, jumping out of the helicopter when the pilot confirms it is safe and racing across the lawn toward the open front door. A bunch of expensive cars are parked outside, confirming the rest of the Lawson family is here.
This should be fun.
I cannot wait to wipe the smug expression off Saskia’s face for good—to finally put her in her place. She will be spitting blood when she discovers I am Rowan’s father, and that’s not even the full extent of it.
“Bennett.” Joseph Lawson slaps me on the back as he greets me at the front door. “Thanks for coming.” He nods at Leo and Ciro, stepping aside to let us inside. “Everyone is in the family room,” he says, ushering us into the house.
Leo looks around with his eyes out on stalks, and I get it. The house is impressive, but I always thought it was stuffy with its polished marble floors, glistening chandeliers, ornate furniture, expensive oil paintings, and the pillars and columns that give it an ancient European vibe. My Greenwich home couldn’t be more different with its comfortable furniture and modern aesthetics, but it feels like more of a home than this place.
“Ben!” Sierra jumps up the second I enter the room, and we rush toward one another. She throws herself at me, and my arms automatically lock around her trembling body. “I’m so glad you’re here.”
“I wouldn’t be anywhere else.” Being extra careful, I tilt her head up so I can get a proper look at her. I frown when I spot the raised gash on her left cheek. The wound has been cleaned and someone applied ointment, but I wonder if it might need stitches. The thought of her beautiful face being permanently marked doesn’t sit well with me. “You said you weren’t hurt.” I drill her with a look as I gingerly lift her bandaged right hand and glare at the faint bruising forming around her neck.
“I’m okay,” she says. “It’s not broken.”
Anger plows through me at an unprecedented rate, and I wish I could resurrect the bastard who did this to her and kill him slowly and painfully so he understands what happens to any man who dares to hurt my woman. But Sierra needs me to be strong and supportive, so I hide my anger and the sense of helplessness I feel and concentrate on being the man she needs me to be. I hug her closer, careful not to squeeze too tight in case she is hurting anyplace else. I just want to get her home and get her checked out by my doctor to ensure there is no permanent damage.
“What the fuck is going on here?” Saskia barks, and my eyes scan the room for the first time.
I didn’t notice anyone else when I first arrived. My eyes latched on to Sierra, and she was all I saw.
“Saskia, please watch your language,” Georgia Lawson says, approaching me with a smile. “Forgive our eldest daughter, Bennett. It’s good to see you again so soon although I wish it were under different circumstances.”
Judging by Saskia’s reaction and the quizzical expressions on everyone else’s faces, it appears Lawson obeyed my instruction to keep my impending arrival a secret. I knew if he announced I was en route Sierra would be fielding questions alone. It’s good to know Lawson respects my commands, but I still don’t trust him.
Georgia’s troubled eyes move to her youngest daughter. She is clearly concerned. Sierra is still pressed against my body, her slim arms wrapped around me, and I dare anyone to pry her from me.
“Where is Rowan?” I ask, my eyes dancing over everyone else and not seeing him. Gifoli is here with Serena, but I don’t see their kids in the room either. Felix is here too, with his arm flung possessively over a scowling Saskia. He was pretty standoffish with me last weekend, and I’m guessing he is familiar with our history. If he knew I had no interest in his wife, either years ago or now, maybe he would loosen up. Though I doubt it. Being married to Saskia is akin to wearing a permanent chastity belt—she has his balls locked up securely in every sense of the word.
“Ben!” A familiar cute voice screams from someplace behind me, and I turn Sierra and me as one, watching our son racing across the room toward us. A dark-haired girl and boy stand in the doorway, eyeing me with curiosity, and I’m guessing they are the Gifoli sister and brother.