Book Cover By: @writermarie__
Five years after a night of forbidden passion, a powerful mafia Don's violent pursuit of a debt leads him back to the enigmatic dancer unaware that she holds a secret that could shatter his empire: his heir.
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Lyric
Luckily, Trevor didn't hear a thing because Alex had whisked Trevor away just in time, saving him from witnessing anything rated R.
Thank God for Alex. He always seemed to know exactly what to do, when to intervene. Maybe that's why Tristian trusted him so much.
Tristian had told he was leaving after we'd gotten done with the cleaning. He hadn't told me where he was going. He'd just pulled me close, his eyes searching mine, a silent promise passing between us. "I have to take care of something," was all he'd said, the words carefully chosen, not quite an explanation, but enough.
After our...reconciliation, or whatever you wanted to call it, in the kitchen, I had reluctantly agreed to let him leave without a barrage of questions. He'd made it clear that he trusted me, and I was determined to rise to the occasion, to meet him halfway. Still, the silence of the mansion pressed in on me, amplifying the unease that simmered beneath my resolve.
The more I replayed the events of today the clearer it became. He was going after Allen. It was the only thing that made sense. Flora knew where he was hiding, and Tristian, ever the protector, was going to deal with it.
A knot tightened in my stomach. I trusted Tristian, I really did. But trusting him to handle the situation and trusting him not to cross a line were two entirely different things. He'd promised me he wouldn't kill Allen, but promises made in the heat of the moment, under the influence of fear and anger, had a nasty habit of being broken.
"Mommy?" Trevor's voice, small and sweet, cut through my spiraling thoughts. I blinked, focusing on him as he splashed happily in the tub, a miniature ocean erupting around him. His curly hair was slicked back with shampoo, forming a goofy, makeshift Mohawk.
"Hm?" I managed, forcing a smile.
"Are you and Daddy friends now?"
The question, innocent and pure, washed over me like a wave. Friends. It felt like an inadequate word to describe the tangled mess that was Tristian and me. But for Trevor, it was enough.
"Yes, baby," I said softly, reaching out to smooth a stray strand of hair from his forehead. "We're friends now."
His face lit up, his eyes sparkling with an almost unbearable hope. "Does that mean no more arguing?"
My heart ached. He was so young, so perceptive. He'd absorbed the tension, the fear, the unspoken words that had hung heavy in the air between Tristian and me.
"Mhm," I confirmed, hoping against hope that it was true.
"And we can go out without you being mad at us?"
"Yes," I said, my voice catching slightly.
"Do we get to do things together now too? Like play with my toys and go to the movies?"
