The Daddy and the Dom Page 6

  So I didn’t really give a fuck if Marco had gotten me a golden unicorn. Nothing would faze me now.

  “Is that why you made me come here?” I demanded, wondering why he’d invited me to his family’s estate on Long Island. I’d been with my father in the city, trying to defend his claim as the head of our family, once the current boss—Victor Lombardi—passed. And Victor’s death of natural causes was imminent.

  Unfortunately for my blood relatives, there were other powerful men within our mafia family who wanted to take power. That was why Marco had dragged me home: to protect my dad and his presumptive position. And they’d all been worried that I was dead, so I supposed it was a small mercy for them that I’d finally been found after months of hiding out around the Harvard campus.

  Besides, I might not like my life, but I didn’t hate my father. I didn’t want to see him dead.

  And I didn’t want to put Marco at risk, either. The man who’d been my lifelong surrogate brother might have been killed if I’d stayed away. He needed me to watch his back, and I’d abandoned him. I knew that must have hurt him, and I still carried guilt over my decision to leave him behind.

  So why the fuck had he gotten me a gift?

  The sly smile was still fixed on his hard face. “I told you, I got you a present. I had to stash it here. Come inside and see.”

  I blew out an exasperated sigh, but I stepped across the threshold and entered the ostentatious mansion. There was enough white marble and gold gilding in the décor to blind a man. The effect was overwhelming, but Marco’s father, Leo De Luca, had never been a subtle man, and this was his home. Even if he rarely came here these days. He was too busy defending my father’s position from within the city, too. As Dad’s best friend, Leo would die to protect him. Just as Marco would do for me.

  Marco began walking toward the elegant curved double staircase, and I followed. Curiosity stirred somewhere deep inside me, but it was faint. Nothing really caught my interest these days. Not since I’d lost Ashlyn and my dream of a normal life with her.

  When we got to the top of the stairs and turned toward Marco’s bedroom, I stopped. Anger—my one familiar emotion—bubbled up.

  “Do not tell me you have a girl in there,” I said through gritted teeth. If a three-way was Marco’s idea of a present, he’d fucked up big time. I wasn’t interested in anyone but Ashlyn. The idea of touching another woman made my stomach twist.

  His smile sharpened as he turned the knob and pushed the door open. “As a matter of fact, I do.”

  Just before my rage could rise, all the air was knocked from my chest. I reeled back a step at the horribly entrancing sight before me. She was even more beautiful than I remembered: alabaster skin contrasting with her silky dark hair. Her lovely eyes were closed, her long lashes resting on her cheeks.

  “Ashlyn,” I rasped her name when I finally remembered how to breathe.

  I didn’t realize I moved, but suddenly, I found myself at her side. I fell to my knees beside the bed where she was laid out on her back. I grasped her hand in mine. It was just as warm and delicate as I recalled in my fantasies.

  She didn’t respond to my touch in any way; she remained still, her breathing deep and even. Like an enchanted fairytale princess, waiting for her true love’s kiss.

  The idea turned my stomach. Because she wasn’t unconscious from some fantastical spell.

  Marco had drugged her.

  I rounded on him with a snarl, but I didn’t move away from her. I couldn’t. “What did you do?”

  He crossed his arms over his chest and stared down at me. I might have a few inches of height on him, but he was broader, and from my kneeling position, he loomed over me. Over Ashlyn.

  I shifted my body between them, shielding her from my best friend. I knew he was a dangerous man, but he’d never done anything to hurt me.

  “Why did you do this?” I prompted when he didn’t answer my first question. “Why the fuck would you do this to her?”

  Didn’t he realize what he’d done? I’d left her behind to protect her. If my father’s enemies had discovered her, they might have used her to get to me. I was Dad’s weak spot, and Ashlyn was mine.

  “You missed her,” Marco said, as though that were explanation enough for the horrible crime he’d committed. As a career criminal, he wasn’t above kidnapping. But abducting Ashlyn was a personal crime against me. He’d put her at risk by bringing her anywhere near me.

  I wanted to rage at him. I wanted to attack him, to hurt him in a way I’d never contemplated before.

  But I couldn’t move away from her. I couldn’t let go of her hand. She was so small, vulnerable. I couldn’t leave her side, not while she was unconscious and powerless to defend herself.

  Not that she could have defended herself against Marco. My brutal friend didn’t hurt women, but then again, I’d never have imagined him capable of something like this.

  “You abducted her because I missed her?” I seethed. “Don’t you understand the danger you’ve put her in? She was safe in Cambridge. She was safe without me.” The last declaration left ashes on my tongue.

  “No, she wasn’t,” Marco countered. “I’m not the only one who was looking into your disappearance. I’m not the only one who found your hiding place at Harvard.”

  My pulse pounded through my veins. Guilt and selfish hope tormented me. If Ashlyn had been discovered by my father’s enemies, then Marco hadn’t had a choice. He’d taken her to protect her.

  But that meant I was ultimately responsible for ripping her from her pretty, perfect life. I’d never wanted that for her. All I’d wanted was to cherish her and make her blissfully happy.

  That wasn’t reality, though. My reality was bloody and brutal, and I’d brought her into this tainted world.

  “We didn’t have a choice,” Marco continued. I barely noticed the we. Marco and I were a team, and while he’d made this decision on his own, I was now complicit in it.

  Because I wasn’t going to let her go. Not again. I couldn’t, now that I was near her.

  The fact that she might be in danger if I wasn’t here to protect her was an excuse to keep her. Some part of my mind knew that. If I were truly a good man, I’d tell her to go to the police for protection.

  But at heart, I was a selfish, hungry bastard. I wanted her, and while I’d been noble enough to leave her once, I couldn’t do it again. I wouldn’t.

  I turned back to look at her, to drink in the sight of her. I could still feel Marco’s presence at my back, but I didn’t care. He knew all my secrets, and his watchful eyes on us barely registered.

  Unable to resist her allure, I reached out and traced the line of her cheekbone with my thumb, trailing my fingertips along her jaw. I wanted to memorize every contour of her face, her body. Even my bittersweet, obsessive memories couldn’t compare to having her here with me.

  A little furrow appeared between her brows, and she let out a low groan. Despite the sound of discomfort, she leaned her cheek into my hand.

  “Joseph?” she asked groggily, somewhere between sleep and wakefulness.

  The sound of my name on her tongue went straight to my cock, and I immediately stiffened for her. Yearning and lust raged through my system, and my hand tightened around hers.

  From that moment, I knew I wouldn’t be capable of ever letting her go again.

  Chapter Three

  Ashlyn

  “It’s me. I’m right here. I’ve got you, angel.” I recognized Joseph’s deep voice, the smooth tone he used when he told me how beautiful I was.

  Despite my headache, I sighed and leaned into his touch. I kept my eyes closed as I reveled in the feel of his hand against my cheek, touching me with the careful reverence he’d always reserved for me. He was so big and strong, but he held me like something precious and fragile. His gentle hold was often at odds with the fierce way he kissed me; he worshipped me and devoured me at the same time. I found the combination addictive. I found him addictive.


  I longed to look into his eyes again. My lashes fluttered against the sudden wash of light, and I squinted as my pupils adjusted. When the world came into focus, I found myself captured in his beautiful, aquamarine gaze. Twin blue flames flickered in his eyes as he studied me with the familiar hunger that made my blood race.

  His lashes were just as long and thick as I remembered, his mouth just as full and sensual. More dark stubble covered his strong, square jaw than usual, as though he hadn’t shaved in several days. His glossy black curls fell around his face, his hair a bit unrulier than the last time I’d seen him. Even slightly unkempt, he was the most breathtaking thing I’d ever seen.

  “Joseph,” I rasped, his name catching in my parched throat.

  His brows drew together. “She needs water.” He wasn’t addressing me, but sleep still fogged my mind too thickly for me to contemplate it.

  “On the nightstand.” I recognized that voice, too. It was the one that haunted my dreams, the voice that had whispered through the darkness as the needle pricked my neck…

  Marco.

  I sat up with a gasp as the memory of his attack flooded my mind. The sharp intake of air tormented my dry throat, and I coughed. My head throbbed and spun at my sudden movements. I swayed, and Joseph’s strong arm closed around my back before I could fall.

  “It’s okay,” he promised. “You’re safe. Drink.”

  A cool glass touched my lips, and I gulped down the water without thinking of protesting. I never had been able to deny Joseph when he issued those low, self-assured commands.

  When I’d drained half the glass, he took it away and set it aside. The mattress dipped beside me as he sat on the bed, cuddling me close. I leaned into him, breathing him in as he pressed a tender kiss against my pounding head.

  “Just breathe,” he cajoled. “You’re okay.”

  “She’ll be fine. She just needs to stay hydrated.”

  I stiffened at the sound of Marco’s voice. He was talking about me as though I wasn’t here, and I bristled. He’d shown no consideration for my wishes or wellbeing when he’d freaking drugged and kidnapped me.

  I looked past Joseph to glare at Marco. His black eyes stared right back at me, implacable. He obviously didn’t feel a shred of remorse for what he’d done to me. His blank expression betrayed no emotion at all.

  I shrank closer to Joseph. I looked back at him, unable to maintain eye contact with the dangerous man who loomed over us, his corded arms crossed over his massive chest. Marco oozed danger, a darkness that emanated from his soul. I’d felt it the first time I’d met him, and I definitely felt it now. He’d attacked me, abducted me. The memory of those strong arms pinning me against the wall and smothering my panicked screams made me shudder. Joseph’s hand stroked up and down my back, soothing me.

  “I’ve got you,” he promised again.

  I stared up into his beautiful eyes, imploring. “What’s happening? Why is he here?”

  I recalled Marco telling me that he was taking me to Joseph. I wasn’t frightened of the man I loved, but I didn’t understand why he wasn’t shielding me from his terrifying friend. I didn’t understand why he wasn’t coming to my rescue and taking me back to my apartment at Harvard.

  “He’s here to protect you, just like I am.”

  Joseph’s words didn’t make any sense.

  “He kidnapped me.” There was no way Marco was trying to protect me. He was my enemy, a threat. He certainly wasn’t a white knight, not like Joseph. Joseph had always kept me safe, defending me from crass college boys who wanted to touch me without my permission. He wouldn’t allow his scary friend to get away with abducting me.

  “To keep you safe,” Joseph countered calmly, but his eyes tightened with anxiety. “I’m sorry, Ashlyn. This is my fault.” His arm firmed around me. “But I can’t leave you alone and at risk. I tried, and it didn’t work.”

  My mind churned, struggling to piece together what he was saying. My heart had shattered the night he’d walked out of my life. Now, he was trying to tell me why, but I couldn’t wrap my head around it.

  “What are you saying? Why did you leave me?” My voice was small, the familiar pain of his loss stabbing through my chest. He might be holding me, but that didn’t fully erase the torment he’d put me through when he’d left.

  “I’m not… good for you.” He stumbled over the admission. “I don’t deserve you. I knew it from the beginning, so I tried to keep my distance. I saw you at the bar for weeks, but I didn’t let myself near you. Then, that asshole Stu touched you, and I couldn’t hold back. It was selfish of me.”

  I remembered that night vividly. Joseph had always served me free drinks, and he’d lingered at the bar as he pressed the plastic cups into my hand, his eyes devouring me. I’d doubted the attraction since he hadn’t made a move, but then one night, a frat boy had grabbed me. Joseph pulled him off me and escorted me home. From that moment on, we’d been inseparable. The relationship had been short, but I’d never felt so connected to any man. I’d fallen for Joseph, hard and fast.

  But then, he left. And I still didn’t understand why.

  “What do you mean?” I pressed. “Why do you think you don’t deserve me? All you ever did was protect me and make me happy. I…” I stopped myself from confessing my feelings for him. We’d never gotten to the point of exchanging the words I love you. With the uncertainty that plagued me, I knew now wasn’t the time.

  His lips pressed to a thin line, and his eyes dropped so he was no longer looking at me. He was shutting down, shutting me out.

  “Tell me what’s going on,” I demanded, frustrated. I was rarely so assertive with Joseph—he usually took the lead—but when he was trying to isolate himself from me, I couldn’t allow it. Especially when I needed to know what the hell was happening. He wasn’t really answering any of my questions.

  “I don’t understand why you’re being such an angsty teenager, Joseph,” Marco said, his voice clipped with annoyance that mirrored my own. “If you won’t tell her, I will.”

  Marco paused, giving him a moment to speak. Joseph swallowed hard and kept his gaze averted from mine. He still didn’t put an inch of space between us, as though he couldn’t stop touching me. I didn’t want him to. After a month of emptiness without him, I craved his nearness.

  But that didn’t mean I didn’t want answers.

  “Fine,” Marco sighed. His black eyes fixed on me, and I couldn’t look away. His expression was cool, detached. But there was something sharper in his eyes, a deeper emotion that I didn’t understand.

  “We’re mafia, Ashlyn. Joseph and I are part of the Lombardi crime family. We were born into it. This is who we are.”

  I shook my head, an absolute refusal to believe it. Joseph might have a bad boy sense of style and an intimidating physique, but he’d always treated me with tenderness. He was kind, good down to his core. He couldn’t be a criminal.

  “You’re lying.”

  “I’m not. Tell her, Joseph.”

  His aquamarine gaze lifted to mine, his eyes tight with anguish.

  “Tell me he’s lying,” I begged, but I could read the truth in the taut lines of his face.

  “It’s true.” The admission was little more than a whisper.

  I pulled away from him, my stomach turning. Everything we’d shared—trust, love—began to crumble in my chest. He’d never told me much about himself; we’d always talked about me. Well, we’d talked when we weren’t tangled in the sheets, communicating our feelings with our bodies.

  I put more distance between us, realizing I didn’t know the man beside me at all.

  He didn’t reach for me. He dropped his arms at his sides, his hands clenching to fists. He wasn’t looking at me anymore.

  “Jesus, Joseph, what happened to your balls?” Marco asked, exasperated. “This whole Romeo and Juliet, star-crossed lovers thing is stupid. Get over yourself and explain what’s happening. You owe her that much.”

  Joseph glowered at him. “You
’re the one who kidnapped her. You explain.”

  “You’re acting like a child,” Marco drawled. “But fine. If I have to be the bad guy, I’ll be the bad guy. You can keep pretending to be noble, but that’s bullshit, and you know it. You want to keep her. Admit it.”

  “Keep me?” I demanded. “I’m a human being. Stop talking about me like I’m an object.”

  Marco fixed me in his implacable stare again, and I froze. “I can see that you’re going to be just as dramatic about this as Joseph. Calm down and listen.”

  It was a clear order, and there was a subtle threat behind it. And unspoken or else.

  I didn’t want to find out what the or else was. I didn’t think Joseph would let him hurt me, but then again, I didn’t know Joseph at all.

  “I took you because you’re in danger, Ashlyn,” Marco explained away his crime as though he’d done me a favor. “Joseph was hiding out in Cambridge for a few months. I found him, though. And he was lucky I did. His father has enemies, and they were looking for him, too. Even after I dragged him back home, they kept digging. They found out he’d been dating you while he was living there. If I hadn’t taken you out of there, they might have gotten to you first and used you as leverage against us.”

  “This is insane.” I shook my head, struggling with everything he was telling me. Yesterday, I’d been a normal college student, pining for my first love. Now, I was involved with the mafia? It was crazy. Absolutely nuts.

  “This is reality,” Marco said harshly. “You led a charmed life at Harvard, with your fancy apartment and your fancy education. But you need to start living in the real world, little girl.”

  I skipped past indignation at being called little girl. I went straight to royally pissed off. The way he described my life made me sound like a cosseted child. He didn’t know me at all.