Le Zinc is probably my most frequent haunt. It’s one of my favorite restaurants, and it should be, considering I hired the kitchen staff. Good food is important to me, and that’s why this place is fucking packed. They come to this restaurant in droves. I can’t blame them. Everything is streamlined. Modern. The food is great. You can smoke. You can bring your own wine.

But some don’t come for the great food or the service. They’re tourists. They watch an episode of Sopranos or they read the Montreal Gazette, and they know that this is a connected joint. Fucking Hollywood. What a joke.

Anyway, one of those assholes sits in the restaurant with a baseball cap. A fucking baseball cap. And he holds his smartphone in my direction.

I’m trying to have a meeting with my captains in this place, and that jerk-off is taking pictures of me. With that fucking baseball cap on his stupid head.

It’s disrespectful.

“Hold on a second.” I interrupt François with a hand as I stand up from the booth, smooth over my suit, and walk in the direction of that jackass.

His head perks up as he sees me coming, frowning at me. I can just imagine what I must look like to this prick. When I reach his table, I grit my teeth in an attempt to smile.

Do not make a fucking scene. Be polite.

“Excuse me.” That probably never sounded so hostile. “Take off the hat, please.”

His mouth opens stupidly. “It’s my hat, and I’ll wear it if I want.”

How is this moron still breathing?

“Don’t be a jerk. This is a nice restaurant.”

Our eyes meet for a tense moment and for a minute I think he’s going to back down, but then he shakes his head. The veins in my head are about to pop.

I reach up and cuff the side of his head. It flies off and flutters to the ground.

“What the fuck?”

The other diners look up from their meals at the sound of the commotion, and then Shit For Brains stands up with his fists raised.

“Don’t touch me!”

Cute.

“Get out of my fucking restaurant.”

Before I drag you out the back and beat the shit out of you.

He obviously has no idea who I am, but his friend does. He gets up from the table and yanks Shit For Brains’ arm. “That’s Johnny Cravotta.”

“Oh.”

I almost want to laugh at his wide, horrified eyes, and the way his whole body deflates. He puts his hands behind his back and his shoulders slump, almost as if he’s bowing.

“I’m sorry, sir. I didn’t know who you were.”

“Get the fuck out.”

He nods and bends down for the hat, but I step on it, viciously grinding all the dirt and shit from the sidewalks on that fucker’s hat. Then I step back.

“There’s your fucking hat. Now get out.”

His eyes splinter with a flash of resentment, and he hesitates near my feet. I have to hold myself back, but the cool fire inside me recedes when he puts that fucking dirty cap on his head and walks out like a beaten dog. I reach into my pocket and throw money on the table for the waitress, and then I walk back to my captains, who give me appreciative smirks.

People who know me say I’m cruel, but everything I do is necessary. Even humiliating that dumb fuck in my restaurant. I need to set a precedent. I am always being watched. And I am always watching them. I learned that from my father.

Prick.

I sit back down at the table without a fuss, and we continue our meeting, but my mind is elsewhere.

“What about the bikers?”

The question snaps me in two. “What?”

“Les Diables. Shouldn’t we give them a taste?”

My hackles settle down and I lean back into my chair. “I told Carlos that the airport was off limits. That’s all he needs to know. I’m not giving him a cent. It’s our fucking territory.”

François shifts in his seat, looking uncomfortable. “He has people working for him at the airport. I don’t know, John.”

He has the gall to question me in front of all my captains.

“I didn’t ask for your fucking opinion.”

The men around the table go quiet as François sits back, looking subdued.

“All due respect, John, he has a point.”

My consigliere Sal mutters in my ear as blood pounds in my head. I’m not giving that fucking asshole a penny. If they knew how prejudiced he was against Italians, they’d be on my side.

“There are two kinds of heists. Ones where there are no witnesses, and ones where everybody gets caught.” I grind my cigarette into the ashtray. “I don’t trust bikers. Not even to pay them off. They stay in the fucking dark.”

My capos nod at me and my eyes sweep the restaurant. Over their heads I see something that almost gives me a heart attack.

Maya stands in the foyer, looking more than a little lost. I can make out her fantastic ass from over here, because her black jeans wrap around her like a second skin. She doesn’t call me in a fucking week, and then she just decides to show up like this? Where any of her father’s people can see her?

Christ, I don’t need this right now.

But I can’t pretend it doesn’t give my ego a boost to see her wave off the hostess and march toward my table. Male heads turn as she walks past tables. She wears a slight frown as the guards stop her before she gets to me. And I wave them away. My captains glance at her. And then they look again. My mood lifts to the sky.

Yeah, that’s the girl I’m fucking.

“Well, look who’s here. I guess this means you finally figured out I’m not a bar owner.”

“Oh, Maddon!”

A chorus of laughter erupts around me as Maya takes a timid step forward, her eyes dark with eyeliner. She wears a white tank top that puts her tits on display, and I think I can make out one of the bruises I gave her with my teeth, still yellow on her skin.

Down, boy.

“We need to talk.”

I raise an eyebrow as the guys seated around me give me knowing smirks, because that’s basically code for, I’m pissed off.

“This isn’t the best time, hon.”

She crosses her arms over her chest. “It’s urgent.”

I roll my eyes, but inwardly I’m uneasy. What made her desperate enough for her to come all the way here?

“All right. Guys, give me a couple minutes.”

They stand up and scrape back their chairs as they move away. Maya shakes her head when I pat the seat next to me.

“We need to talk in private.”

It has to be about her fucking father, right? Now I’m pissed off at myself for allowing this stupid affair to continue the moment I found out who she was. It was fucking risky. I’m endangering my relationship with Les Diables, but I couldn’t help it. Just had to have her. Even now my blood pounds through my veins as if I’ve had too much wine. She has that effect on me.

“Okay, let’s go into my office.”

So that I can fuck your brains out.

I stand up from the booth, unable to tolerate another second of being next to her and not touching her. I palm the small of her back, and she stiffens.

Goddamn it.

She knows who I am for five fucking minutes, and her attitude toward me does a 180-degree turn. It pisses me off. We walk past the kitchens, and then I open the door to the manager’s office.

Maybe she’s still down to fuck. It’s the perfect place, really. I could bend her over the desk, or have her straddle me in my chair. I realize that I can see the outline of her bra against her tank top. My mouth is dry. Jesus Christ, this girl turns me on without even trying, but she doesn’t look like she’s in the mood.

Her whitened face turns toward me and she takes a big, shaking breath. “Okay, first of all, I’m sorry for everything I said. I didn’t know who you were.”

So that’s what this is about?

She jumps when I grab the head of her chair, my hands on either side of her. Her nostrils flare and her pupils turn into pinpricks. I’m used to this. Used to people being fucking terrified of me, but I hate seeing it on her.

“Stop.”

“You have to believe that I wouldn’t have said any of those things. Please, don’t take it out on my father.”

A sick feeling roils in my stomach. As much as it’s amusing to see the proud, shit-talking girl grovel at my feet, it’s also—sad. “I liked you better when you didn’t know who I was.”

It’s a fucking cold thing to say, but she doesn’t flinch.

“Now get the fuck out of my office.”

I’m sick and tired of meeting the same woman everywhere. I liked her when she talked back to me. It was so much more satisfying to win her submission from her, than to receive it immediately like a fucking tribute.

“No! I haven’t even told you what I came to tell you.”

“Well, fucking say it.”

She opens and closes her mouth. “You—you should sit down.”

Now she’s got me keyed up. I don’t like the way she’s looking at me. It’s as though she expects me to smack her around. A small shock runs through me when her eyes well with tears. They’re like two dark pools. Tears streak down her face.

Jesus.

The energy goes out of my limbs. I sit down next to her and squeeze the back of her neck.

“What is it?”

But she just can’t say it. She can’t even look at me. Her hands cover her face and she shakes her head.

“What the fuck is it?”

Then she uncovers her face and shoves her hand through her purse. I’m bewildered at her antics. She grabs my palm and shoves something plastic in my hand.

“What the fuck is this?”

There are two of them. They’re rectangular pieces of plastic with positive pink signs. They look like—

Oh fuck.

It feels as though I’m falling. There’s no ground at my feet. The office doesn’t exist. I can only see my shaking hand, holding those two pregnancy tests. Both of them positive.

“You’re pregnant?”

“Yes.”

“It’s mine?”

Her voice seems to come from far away. “Yeah.”

“You’re sure?”

“Yes, I’m fucking sure. You’re the only guy I’ve been with in years.”

The tests tremble in my hand. I’m shaking. I never shake. I can count on my hand the times I’ve been afraid in my life, but nothing comes close to the threat of actually becoming a father.

“How the fuck did this happen?”

“We didn’t use a condom that first time.”

Oh Jesus. She’s right. I was so worked up—we both were—and I came inside her without wrapping my dick first.

Fucking moron.

“Does your father know?”

“Of course not!”

A look of terror flashes over her face. I can only imagine the shit storm that would cause. To hell with that. What am I going to do?

First, make sure she’s actually pregnant. Maya doesn’t come off as a crazy chick, but she could have easily swiped the tests from someone else.

I wouldn’t even be angry if that’s what happened.

“Come on. Let’s go.” I toss the tests in the trash and take her hand.

“Where are we going?”

“To get you tested by a doctor.”

I’m barely quelling the panic building up inside me. I might have knocked up a girl I barely know, a girl who is the daughter of my strongest ally. He’ll never forgive this. Jesus Christ, how could I be so fucking stupid?

I lead her back into the restaurant and my men look for me at once.

Be fucking cool.

“Chris, I need my car. I won’t need a driver.”

“’Course.” Chris slips from his stool and sweeps away without another word.

The rest of them give me curious looks that I ignore. Even though I’m the boss, this is the sort of gossip that would spread.

Johnny Cravotta knocked up the princess of Les Diables.

You don’t know that for sure yet.

I grip her hand so tightly that I’m sure it’s painful, but she doesn’t make a sound until I lead her outside. The fear in her eyes makes my heart gallop.

“We don’t know anything for sure, Maya.”

She closes her eyes and two bitter tears squeeze from them. The wind almost takes them away, but I wipe them with my thumbs.

“I think it’s pretty fucking certain.”

Fuck.

“You can fucking panic when we get the actual results.”

* * *

Fifteen minutes.

That’s how long it takes for the results of a pregnancy test with ninety-nine percent accuracy.

I can’t sit down and wait. I pace the small room as Maya sits on the bench in her paper gown. Even though there’s only a thin piece of paper covering her naked body, I’m in no fucking mood.

She clenches her fists. “Will you stop pacing?”

I stop in my tracks and throw a glare at her. “Oh, so now you grow a pair of balls?”

“You’re making it worse.”

Maybe I’m being an asshole. I should be sitting down at her side, holding her hand or some shit. I don’t fucking do the handholding shit. That’s just never been one of my needs. I like to fuck, but I’m not affectionate.

As I stand there, though, the guilty feeling burns like acid. Like too much tequila sitting in an empty stomach. I can’t just let her sit there alone.

Her lip trembles as I walk closer to her, and I lay my hand on her head. I bend my lips to her forehead and I kiss her. It levels out my nerves. She inhales a gasp as the door creaks open and even I dig my fingers in her hair, heart pounding.

The nurse walks in with a sheaf of paper, and in two seconds I rip it out of her hands.

“Sir, excuse me—!”

My eyes scan the massive sheet of text—

POSITIVE.

There it is in big, bold letters.

Maya stands up. “What the fuck does it say?” She grabs for the page, but I’m still holding on to it and she tears it in half.

The nurse clucks in disapproval. “I was going to tell you that yes, you’re pregnant. Congratulations!”

A strange feeling goes through me as I keep staring at the piece of paper. I’m going to be a father. A father, for Christ’s sake. This is what I wanted, isn’t it?

And then a voice sighs in my head.

Finally.

Relief floods my veins. I’ve spent years chasing pussy after my two failed marriages, and a family is what I always wanted. This was never how I imagined it.

The sound of crumpling paper snaps me out of it. Maya inhales a huge gasp and hurls the paper from her, and then she breaks into loud sobs.

At least one of us is happy about this.

“I’ll—er—leave you two—”

“Get the fuck out!”

I rake my fingers through my hair as Maya screams at the nurse, who gives her an extremely offended look.

Fuck. I’ll pay her off, later.

The nurse slams the door behind her and I turn toward Maya. I step forward and she backs away, tears streaming down her face.

“No!”

I grab her before she can take another step and pull her into my arms. I smooth the back of her head as she finally gives in and slides her hands around my middle. Another throbbing stab of guilt hits me, and it’s horrible because I rarely feel bad about the shit I do. This has got to be one of the worst things I’ve done. She’s going to get so much shit.

“We have—we have to get an abortion.”

I curl my fingers into her hair, suddenly hit by gut-wrenching nausea. It’s what I’ve wanted—for years—and it’s about to be ripped away from me.

I pull back from her. “No.”

“Why not? Give me one good reason why I should keep it?”

Her shrill voice rises to the ceiling, stabbing my ears as she glares at me.

“Because I want this baby.”

“No, you don’t.”

“Yes, I do.” My heart slams against my chest. “I’m older than you, sweetheart. This is something I’ve wanted for a long time, but I could never find the right girl.”

She shakes her head, looking miserable. “I’m not the right girl.”

“I don’t care. You’re pregnant with my kid, and I’m going to take care of you. I will support you.”

“No, this is a disaster waiting to happen.”

Something painful twists inside my chest.

“It doesn’t have to be.”

“I’m going to get an abortion. You can’t stop me!”

That’s right, I can’t.

No matter what I say or do, she can do whatever the fuck she wants. It kills me, and the venom in her voice makes it worse. I’ll fucking admit that it hurts me a little to hear that violent reaction from her.

Disaster.

A baby isn’t a disaster. It’s a gift.

Maya’s hand reaches for my face and she touches my jaw. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to—”

“Do you want this because the baby is mine? Or because you don’t want kids?”

My hands tremble as I watch her open mouth, waiting for her answer.

“This isn’t about you. He’ll kill me. M-maybe if I say that someone else got me pregnant—”

“Are you trying to piss me off?”

“No!”

“I will be the baby’s father. I am not going to fucking hide like a coward.”

I push myself off from the wall, disgusted that she’d even suggest pinning the pregnancy on someone else. I’m no fucking coward.

“He’ll never be okay with it if you’re the father.”

I clench my fists so hard that I can feel my nails digging into my palms. “We’ll get engaged. We’ll tell him together.”

Her mouth drops open. “Are you insane?”

“I’m trying to save both our relationships with your father. Marrying you is the right thing to do. He’ll be even more pissed if I don’t take care of his daughter—”

“I’m not fucking marrying you. I don’t even know you.”

I’m not sure I even like you.

“I hate to break it to you, but that doesn’t mean shit. You get a girl pregnant, you marry her. End of fucking story.”

“What century do you live in?”

“The century where you are fucked without me.”

She backs against the wall, her chest pulsing as I trace the edge of that stupid paper gown, following the neckline as my finger sweeps over the tops of her breasts.

Could I have let her go, even if she wasn’t knocked up?

“That’s not what everyone else does.”

“You and me are not like everyone else.”

A row of goose bumps spreads over her skin. I lean into her body, my cock stirring to life as her curves press against me. My lips find her neck and I kiss a hot trail, feeling her heartbeat. She sighs when I kiss the shell of her ear.

“Your dad is going to disown you when he finds out, and you’ll have nowhere to go but my house. I won’t let you in unless you agree to get engaged.”

I soften my words with a kiss to her cheek. It blooms with color as she jerks her head to the side, away from my face.

“I’m not going to marry someone I barely know.”

“You think I want to get married again? It’s the way it is.”

Her lip curls, and I take her jaw in my hand. “Face it, Maya. You belong to me now. You were your father’s, and now you’re mine.”

My mouth falls on those pouting lips that swallowed my cum the other night, and I reach up to her neck where there’s a little tear in her paper gown. The tear drives me nuts, and I yank it. It makes a loud, ripping sound, and I keep yanking until two ripped halves hang from her shoulders. The paper drapes over her tits, hiding her nipples. I see her thighs glistening, and then I tear the rest of her gown so that it falls into pieces on the ground.

I’m going to fuck her. Right here in this doctor’s office.

She crushes her mouth against mine, her tits flattening against my chest. Her hands rip my expensive jacket from my shoulders and it falls to the floor like the cheap paper gown.

“We can’t—she could be back any minute!”

“You think I care?”

I wrap one arm around her back and lift her legs with the other, carrying my woman to the examination table. The paper crinkles as I lay her down, and my cock jumps as I see her laid out like that for me. She really is gorgeous. I love the way her tits sit on her chest, and I get up on the stool to grab them.

“I’m going to fuck you hard and fast.”

I yank down my slacks and pull my cock out, fisting it. No need for a condom anymore. I grip the base as her legs wrap around me. Then I slip my length along that pink cunt, massaging her clit as my hands run up her sides.

“How do you like that?”

Maya shuts her eyes. “You’re insane.”

It’s true. I’ve never been this crazy for pussy. The last few years have been all about getting my dick wet, but never the same woman. Never would I have considered tracking a girl down to fuck her again.

I take it slow. My head pushes its way through, her walls squeezing me tight, already wet and ready to go. I grab her hips and bury every inch of me inside her. I love the gasps she makes when I’m all the way inside. I love the way her tits bounce when I start to thrust.

She lets out a shout and I clap my hand over her mouth as she looks at me, horrified.

“I love it when you scream for me, but this isn’t the right place.”

She moans into my hand as her body jerks with every hammer of my hips. Her cunt is perfectly wet and tight. It grips my dick as though it doesn’t want me to pull out.

I pound her hard, keeping myself there for a moment as her eyes glaze over. Then I move my hand so that my fingers play with her lower lip.

“Johnny.”

Fuck. The way she says my name.

My heartbeat pounds through my dick so hard that I’m sure she can feel it. It’s a constant ache, and I’m slowly losing myself. It’s such a relief to just let everything go. The only thing I want to concentrate on is getting my cum inside my woman. Yes, there’s no question about that now. She belongs to me. She’ll complain and fight, but she’ll come to me. Her father won’t give her a choice.

I can’t take the sound of her groans, which we aren’t bothering trying to keep quiet anymore. My hands find her tits and grope them. I drag my tongue over them. She twists my hair and pulls so fucking hard that I wince.

“Harder!”

Then I bury my face in her tits, my legs straining as I thrust once. I’m shoved over the edge, and so is she, judging by the way she rips out my hair.

“Oh my God.”

I feel her pussy clenching around my dick as I come inside her. The hot jets burst into her as euphoria fogs my brain. I breathe hard against her skin and kiss her over and over. Her chest keeps shuddering with huge gasps as her muscles spasm around me.

“Why the fuck did we do this?”

I get the feeling that she’s not just referring to me nailing her in a doctor’s office. I raise my head, grinning at her.

“You came to me. You wanted me? Well, now you have me.”

“This doesn’t change anything.”

She struggles to sit upright and I wrap an arm around her back, her face growing pink as I stare at her.

“What do you mean, it doesn’t change anything?”

She sets her lips into a firm line. “I haven’t decided what to do yet, but I’m definitely not going to marry you.”

“I think you’ll change your tune once you realize how badly your dad will react to this.”

“I don’t care. I’m not ready to get married. I’m only twenty-two.”

I grind my teeth as she sets her jaw stubbornly. “This isn’t about whether you’re ready, or love, or any of that shit.”

She bends over and snatches her clothes from the ground. “I’m glad to see that my feelings matter so much to you.”

You’re right, they don’t matter.

“Our feelings rank pretty low on my priority list. You really want to start a fucking war because of your pride?”

That holds her gaze for a few moments. “I’m not going to say anything to my dad, and neither will you.”

“Yeah, how long do you think you’re going to be able to hide this? You need doctor visits—”

“Stop it,” she says through her teeth.

“Ultrasounds, prenatal care, all that shit. I’m going to be there with you.”

Maya shoves her legs into her jeans, muttering to herself. I slide myself back in my slacks and zip them up.

“I’ll call you and let you know whatever I decide.”

Maya grabs her purse, and I take her forearm before she can straighten up.

“When am I going to see you again?”

Christ, I hate not being in control.

Maya shrugs and licks her lips. “I don’t know.”

A beautiful flush spreads over her chest as I reel her in and wrap my arms around her waist. She touches the damp skin of my neck, both of us smelling like sex. Then she raises her head and gently kisses my lips. Her mouth is soft, and it makes my skin tingle. A mere ten, fifteen minutes since I came inside her, and I want her again.

“Don’t make me come after you.”

* * *

My patent-leather shoes crunch the dead grass over the silent graveyard. It’s Sunday. Family day. I’m supposed to be at my ma’s, but instead I’m drinking a bottle of bourbon like a fucking drunk degenerate as I think about my old man.

The knowledge that I’m going to be a father really fucks with my head. I’m cautiously optimistic. The sane part of me is screaming to the sky. WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING? YOU’RE GOING TO RUIN YOUR LIFE!

Just like my dad, eh?

I come across his grave. It’s a flat piece of stone, and I spit out a stream of alcohol. It splatters on the date.

He died just before I became boss. My old man was a captain.

I worshipped him.

It still burns, even after all these years. I died that night. I made him kneel and put my gun against his head. He didn’t beg. He knew what he had done, what would have happened to me. His fucking son.

I shot him. I watched his brains splatter the pavement and immediately felt unsatisfied. He went so quickly, and I didn’t feel anything. Just rage. Then I pretended to grieve with my ma, even when everyone in the family knew what I had done.

When your own father puts a hit out on you because you’re getting too big, you lose faith in humanity. He was my hero and he betrayed me for the scared, weak old men who couldn’t handle the fact that a young made guy was a rising star. Bringing in millions of dollars a week. Attracting media attention. I was smart. Most guys are good earners. I was the best.

Take it from me: being the best makes you a target. Not just from men—women, too. They want a piece of you.

The wind howls a bitter sound in my ears as my eyes burn, staring at that fucking plaque.

I wish he was alive so I could kill him again.

Then I upend the bottle of bourbon and let it splash all over the grave. It spills over the grass and soaks into the dead blades.

“See you later, Papa.”

Fuck him.

I walk back to my car, where Chris waits outside. “Let’s go to Tony’s house.”

Then I enter the car without another word and Chris drives off. My stomach bubbles angrily. I’m going to be a father. I just know Maya won’t have it in her to get rid of it.

As much as I hate to admit it, I need to talk to someone. He won’t be happy to see me. I let Tony Vidal leave the family to save face. It’s a long story, but he knows exactly what I’m going through.

And I’m a little bit drunk.

We stop in front of Tony’s house in the suburbs of Terrebonne half an hour later. I get out and tell Chris to wait in the car, and then I walk up the neatly trimmed lawn. My fist hammers on the door, and in a few seconds I hear a feminine voice. “Coming!”

Shit. His wife. She hates my fucking guts.

A slight woman wearing a summer dress yanks open the door, her face falling into disgust when she recognizes me.

“You’re not welcome here.”

Fuck.

“Elena, I just want to talk to Tony.”

“He left the family.”

“This has nothing to do with the family. I just want to talk to him, I swear.”

Suddenly a baby’s squalling voice echoes in the house, and Elena looks over her shoulder toward the noise. A tall hulk of a man walks into the hallway, carrying the baby in his huge arms.

Surprise registers in his voice. “Johnny.”

“Hey, Tony. Do you mind if I come in?”

He frowns but nods in approval, earning him a glare from his wife. I step inside and give Elena a jerk of my head as I walk toward Tony. The baby waves its fat fists in the air and gurgles at its father, who smiles.

“Amy, say, ‘Hi!’”

She gives me a toothless smile and I can’t help but return it.

“She’s beautiful.”

“Thanks.”

Elena walks up to her husband and takes Amy from his arms, glaring at me as she walks upstairs.

Sigh.

Tony gives me an apologetic smile. Whatever. I can’t fault her for hating me. He jerks his head and I follow him into his office. The moment the door closes, he rounds on me.

“So what is this, John? Why are you here?”

Can’t he just look at me without the fucking judgment in his eyes?

“I fucked up pretty bad.”

Tony tenses as I sink into his leather couch. He sits across from me and licks his lips.

“What happened?”

A painful grin stretches across my face. “I knocked up a girl.”

“Oh.” He smiles at me. “That’s it?”

“I knocked up the daughter of the president of Les Diables.”

My words hang in the air for a second and Tony’s mouth stretches into a smile, as if he expects me to burst out, “Kidding!”

“You’re serious?”

“Yeah.”

“Holy fuck—”

“Yeah.”

“That’s really bad.”

I give him a pointed look.

“And you gave me so much shit for knocking up a made guy’s girl. Remember?”

My face heats up at his grin. “Completely different circumstances. I didn’t know who she was at first.”

His deep laughs rebound loudly in the small room. “At first?”

“I was thinking with my dick.”

A huge hand covers his mouth as he tries to stifle his laughter.

Laugh it up, prick.

“It’s not really that funny.”

“No, it’s just very déjà vu for me.”

I sigh loudly.

“Well, what’s done is done. The question is, how are you going to handle it?”

My fingers tap the leather on the arm of the sofa. “I don’t know.”

Normally in these situations, with a hostile person like Carlos, I’d just kill him. Get rid of him. But I can’t just fucking kill the president of Les Diables without someone noticing. Without war.

“Do you think getting engaged would cool him off?”

Tony grimaces. “I don’t know, John. You should talk to Sal.”

“Sal hasn’t been through this.”

“He’s your consigliere. Everyone is going to find out anyway.”

“She wanted to get an abortion. I think I talked her out of it.”

“What? Why would you do that?”

I look up from the sofa, incredulous. “You have a daughter.”

“Yeah, but—”

“I want this kid.”

I want what you have.

“Well, then you don’t need to explain yourself. You’re the boss. You do whatever the fuck you want.”

True, but there are limits. Like don’t-fuck-my-daughter limits. And I just fucking bulldozed over that one.

“Do you like the girl?”

I look at him. “I barely know anything about her.” Other than she’s a great lay and I can’t get enough of her body. I think about harnessing that wild, proud girl. Putting a ring on her finger. Getting to fuck her whenever I want. Doesn’t sound so bad. It’s the other shit that I’m worried about. Her father’s reaction to knocking up his precious daughter.

“I’ll probably have to meet him with her. Explain what happened.”

“Do it on neutral ground. He’ll blow your fucking head off in that fortress.”

“I’m not an idiot.”

Meeting Carlos doesn’t scare me, but I’m vaguely worried for Maya. I’m not sure how free Carlos is with his hands, and she’s carrying my kid. Every cell inside me wants to drive up to Sorel-Tracy right now and take her to my apartment, where I know she’ll be safe. I don’t know much about her, but the thought of her being in pain because of me makes me fucking sick. I need to protect her.

Tony gives a beady look. “Things might go south with Les Diables.”

And if they do, I might have to kill Maya’s father.