“Where is he?” Dom’s furious. His corded muscles flex, and his voice echoes in the foyer. “You brought him here?” he asks incredulously as he slams the door. My body jumps from the loud bang. I don’t even know how I got here. I feel like I just woke up from a dark clouded haze.

“Calm down, I wouldn’t bring him to your home.” His father’s voice is calm, but it doesn’t match his appearance.

I’m frozen at the door. I’ve only known this man for a week, and already two people have tried to kill me. One to get back at him, and one to protect him. My limbs feel limp and weak. The reality weighs heavy on me.

I wanted him. I was willing to try, to give it a chance like he asked.

“I just wanted to tell your Becca that she has nothing to worry about, regardless of whatever happens between you two.” Although Dante’s talking to Dom, his eyes are on me. He’s obviously concerned and I suppose that’s nice of him, but it just makes me feel uncomfortable.

I take in a staggered inhale and try to walk to them in the center of the foyer, but I can’t. My feet are planted firmly in place. I’m stuck. Everything’s so fucked.

His father takes heavy steps toward me, eating up the space between us. He’s dressed in a suit with no tie. He looks distinguished, like a CEO. Nothing like the mob boss he is. “Everything’s alright now. I promise you, no harm will come your way.”

“Is he dead?” The question falls out of my mouth. I want to know. I need to know. I feel like there’s a target on my back.

His eyes dart to Dom, and Dom gives a quick nod. “He will be.”

“I’m gonna make him pay, doll.” Dom’s voice is hard and determined.

Make him pay. The images flash before me. The bullet hole, his bloodied face. I look away and cross my arms.

I change my mind.

I don’t want to hear. I get it now. I understand why they keep their women out of it. I want out of it. I can’t handle this shit. My mind keeps replaying the vision of the man’s head smashing against the ground and falling limp with a bullet hole in the back of his skull. My body heats, and I feel faint. I swallow thickly and put my hand on my forehead.

I’m not okay. Ice pricks my skin, and my vision goes fuzzy.

“She’s going into shock.”

I shake my head. “I’m fine.” Dom mumbles something under his breath, but I don’t hear it.

He lifts me in his arms and carries me away. I don’t even try to protest. “Just relax, babe; I got you.”

* * *

I feel so fucking groggy. I rub my eyes and sit up in Dom’s bed. Fuck, my head is killing me. I rub my temples as the pain radiates.

I rub my eyes and take a look around, and then I remember. My fists grip the sheets, and I sit up straighter with wide eyes. Dom. I need Dom.

“Relax, doll. I’m here.” Dom walks into the room with a glass of water in one hand. “How are you feeling?”

“I don’t know.” I feel like shit. Everything feels like shit. I take the glass of water and take a sip, and then another. I greedily drain it, feeling a million times better.

He sits on the edge of the bed with his body turned toward me as I tap my nail against the glass.

“I can’t do this, Dom. I can’t run and hide. I can’t put Jax through this shit.” It physically hurts to say the words, but it’s true. I need to end this.

“Tough, you need me now.” His hard gaze dares me to disagree.

“That’s not fair.” My voice breaks.

“Life’s not fair, babe.”

“You got me into this shit, and now I can’t leave.” I shake my head and cover my face with my hands.

“That shit is over and done with.” He grips my wrists and wraps my arms around his neck and pulls me into his lap. “That’s not why you need me. You fucking love me, doll. You need me to love you, too.”

I can’t deny it; I love him. “But I can’t.”

“I’m not letting you go.” Hearing his conviction eases my pain. He’s making this decision. “No one’s gonna fuck you the way I do.”

A sad smile plays at my lips, and I huff a laugh as I wipe my eyes with the sleeve of my shirt.

“Can we leave? Please?” If he could take us away, I’d leave right now.

“You can’t stop being family, doll.” Fresh tears prick at my eyes, and my face heats. I should know better.

“I can’t have Jax around this.” I can’t. I won’t. That’s not going to change.

“He won’t be.” Dom’s answer is quick. “I’m selling the business and getting a real job. I’m backing away from all of this shit.” His fingers grip my chin, and he forces me to look him in the eyes as he says, “You want me to stop working for my dad, then I’ll do it. If anyone can leave the familia, I can.”

I shake my head. I know that’s not how it works. “I have to go.” I need to leave him. Before he leaves his family, before he risks his life.

“I’m not letting you leave. I told you; you’re mine.” I love how determined his words are. But it’s not enough.

“I can’t.” My heart clenches and hollows with pain.

“You can. And you will. We’ll do this together. And after today, I can’t let you go. I refuse to let you leave me, doll.”

My head shakes uncontrollably. “I just can’t have Jax raised like this.” My chest heaves for air as heat washes through my body. “I don’t want this for him.” Hot tears leak down my face.

“I know, doll.” His thumb brushes a stray tear away as he looks at me with a sad smile.

“You know when I knew my family was a mob family?” he asks. “I found out when I was ten.” A humorless laugh leaves him. “The journalists from the papers waited for me outside of school.” A sad smile pulls at his lips. “I thought my pops ran a restaurant, that he was an entrepreneur.”

His smile vanishes, and his hand leaves me. “The reporters told me he was a crook, a murderer.” He says the words with distaste, practically spitting them. His eyes fall, and he swallows thickly. “I had no idea until then.” He shifts and looks uncomfortably at the door as he adds, “Ma cried her eyes out. She couldn’t even talk to me. Pops had to take me aside and tell me he had a business and when I wanted to know about it, he’d tell me.” He forces a tight smile. “I never asked.” He shakes his head. “Kids were always a little afraid of me at school, but other than that I think most things were normal. As far as I know.”

He takes a deep breath and says, “The only time I thought my father was disappointed in me was when I told him I wanted to go to college for statistics. He never said it, but there was a look on his face. I asked him about it later, and he said he was so ashamed of himself in that moment. That he’d planned something else for me, and that it never occurred to him I deserved better.”

“Got into Stanford, got my degree and a respectable job, and I fucking hated it. I can’t lie, doll, I don’t fucking like working.” His tone makes a small laugh leave my lips. “So I came home, and Pops told me no. He told me I was more than a gangster. He told me I’d be better than him.” A wicked grin grows across his face. “He was pissed when I told him I was a bookie. Didn’t tell him for nearly a year. But I was having some problems and needed his help. That’s when he let me in and gave me the books.”

“What I’m saying is,” he takes my hand in his and kisses the back of it, “I’m not the boss, doll. Our kids aren’t gonna know until we tell them. And they don’t have to be a part of this.” His eyes plead with me to believe him. “They don’t. I promise you.” He kisses the back of my hand again and his sad eyes return to mine as he adds, “But if you want to leave, we’ll go. Ma and the rest of the family will understand. You’ve already been through too much.” He shakes his head with his eyes on the floor. We don’t let our-” I crush my lips against his, and they’re hard at first, caught by surprise, but he molds them to mine and then parts my lips with his tongue. I push my chest against his, needing to feel him. Needing his love more than my next breath.

I break our kiss and gasp for air. “I love you, Dom.” Tears fall from the corners of my eyes. “I’m scared, but I fucking love you.” I shake my head as he gently grabs my face with his hands.

His forehead rests against mine as his lips come down to meet me. “Tell me you’ll stay with me. I promise I’ll love you till the day I die.”

“Yes, Dom. I love you. I just want to love you.” His arms wrap around my body, pressing my breasts against his hard chest.

“I love you, doll. I love you and your son, so fucking much.” My heart swells and pounds against my chest.

I know he does.