Liar's Lullaby

Chapter 2 Episode 2

But it’s good that she did. It will make things easier for her.

“Do you think I’m the type of man who has to coerce a woman to spread her legs for him?” I ask.

Her eyelashes flicker. Her chest rises and falls with increasing trepidation.

“I don’t know,” she replies at last.

I reach out instinctively. My fingers dip under her chin and pull her face up. She clenches her jawdefiantly, but she doesn’t jerk away from me.

Like she’s daring herself to stay put. To show no fear.

I lean in until I can feel her exhale on my nose.

Her breathing is getting heavier. Her eyes are dilated. She’s tremoring with fear—and something else,too.

Then I step back so fast and so suddenly that she trips forward and releases a tiny, surprised gasp.

I smile. “I’ve f****d a lot of different women,” I tell her as I lean back against my large desk. “Andevery single one has begged me to do it.”

There’s color on her cheeks. A necessary anger to cover up her obvious embarrassment.

“You’re no different than any of them,” I tell her, delivering the final blow.

My voice is level and cool.

If only I believed what I’m saying.

“I’m not gonna beg you for s**t,” she scowls. “You don’t know me.”

“Yes, I do,” I assure her. “And I’m already f*****g bored.”

A split second of silence follows while she processes that.

“Then let me go,” she says.

“I’d love to,” I say. “But you owe me.”

I shake my head. “Unfortunately, it’s not that simple.”

“Because I’d have to take your word on that,” I tell her. “And your word is simply not good enough.”

“What are you gonna do then?” she demands. “Lock me up and use me in whatever way you please?”

I can tell she’s trying to be bold. To confront the horrors of what might happen next head on. No fear.Or at least, none that she’s willing to show me.

“That’s not a bad idea,” I chuckle.

Her blue eyes turn into frigid balls of ice. “I know what you’re trying to do,” she says. “I know you’retrying to scare me, intimidate me. But I don’t scare easily.”

“I believe you. But I’m not like other men you’ve known.”

She opens her mouth—ready to fire another insult at me, no doubt.

But a sharp rap on the door interrupts our little sparring contest.

Pity, too. I was actually enjoying myself.

“What?” I bark at the closed door.

“Hey,” Adriano’s voice comes through, loud and clear. And, for a change, it’s serious. “Hate tointerrupt, but you’re gonna want to hear this.”

My first thought is that something has happened with the Polish crew we’ve been monitoring formonths now. If that is the case, I want to know immediately.

Adriano walks in. His eyes fall on the girl instantly. He’s always had an eye for beautiful women,which is not something that’s ever irritated me.

“Riccardo,” I call, knowing the man will be within hearing range. I hear his footsteps thumpingcloser.

While I wait for him, I turn my attention back to the girl.

“You never told me your name.”

She eyes me warily. “You didn’t exactly ask.”

She hesitates for only a second. “Charlotte,” she says softly. “My name is Charlotte.”

I like that. I like that a lot.

The big man appears at my door. “Riccardo,” I say, “take Charlotte down to the cellar and keep herthere.”

“What?” she exclaims, looking frantically between me and Riccardo. “Wait! You can’t just keep mehere. What do you want with me?”

“I haven’t decided yet,” I answer calmly.

Then I gesture for Riccardo to get on with it.

He moves forward and grabs hold of Charlotte.

There’s something about his meaty fingers around her slender arm that makes me want to punch thepink right off his heavy cheeks.

But I remind myself why he’s got his hands on her in the first place. The anger recedes.

He frog-marches her out. She’s quivering and yelping, but I ignore her pleas for mercy.

The moment the door shuts behind them, Adriano turns to me with a low whistle on his lips. “Fuckinghell. She’s an eleven out of ten if I ever saw one.”

I narrow my eyes at him, irritated that he’d cut our conversation short. “What was so fuckingimportant that you had to barge in here for?”

He pauses for a moment to take in my impatient expression. “Someone just came to the door.”

I growl and wave a dismissive hand. “Not now. Tell them to f**k off.”

“Uh, yeah, I… couldn’t do that, Lucio.”

“And why the f**k not?”

“It was a kid,” he says softly. “A little girl.”

I’m rippling with irritation now. “Even more reason to tell them to get lost. This is no place for littlegirls.”

He’s shuffling back and forth in place. There’s a nervous energy radiating from him, too.

I’ve seen this man face down enemies outnumbered ten-to-one without so much as batting an eye.He’s f*****g fearless.

But something has him chilled to the bone.

“What is it?” I demand.

I raise an eyebrow and wait for him to continue.

Slowly, laboriously, like it’s hard as hell for him to do, Adriano drags his eyes up to meet mine.

“A little girl with a note addressed to you.”

“What kind of note?” I say in a hoarse whisper.

My skin is crawling with anticipation.

“The girl is about six,” he tells me. “And the note—well, the note claims that she’s your…”

Adriano looks at me as though he’s not quite sure how to break the news.

“Daughter,” he finishes at last. “The note says she’s your daughter.”

It’s not a word that belongs to me. To my world.

“Daughter?” I repeat numbly. “That’s not possible.”

“Yeah,” Adriano says cautiously. “That’s what I thought, too. But Lucio, brother… she has your eyes.”

The eyes I’d inherited from my mother.

“Lots of people have gray eyes,” I reject.

Adriano is clearly unconvinced. He shakes his head. “Not like yours. It’s f*****g uncanny.”

I turn from him to stare out of the massive bay window that sits behind my desk.

It’s late at night. Way past a child’s bedtime.

“Who did she show up with?” I ask.

I whip back around. “She was standing outside the compound alone?”

Adriano nods. “I checked the camera footage myself. It shows her walking toward the compound gateat eleven-sixteen. Whoever dropped her off knew enough to stay out of sight of the cameras, I guess.”

“f**k,” I breathe. “Where is she?”

“Out in the common area,” Adriano replies. “Franco’s with her now.”

I understand why Franco’s been left with the child. My lieutenant has five of his own, and despite hismassive stature and wild tattoos, he’s got a calming presence.

I don’t know what to think.

“Do you… wanna see her?” Adriano asks eventually.

Not because I want to.

But because I need to know if she’s really mine.

I nod. “Bring her in.”

Adriano heads immediately for the door. “Also, just an F.Y.I…. she’s a little skittish.”

“I’d be suspicious if she wasn’t.”

He grunts and disappears. I take the opportunity to try and process what the f**k is happening.

Nothing about it this feels like a coincidence.

First Charlotte, then a mysterious little gray-eyed girl?

My first instinct is wariness. Something is at play here.

I need to be alert.

But my attention is diverted by the blue-eyed spitfire that I’ve just relegated to the cellar.

I’m used to being pulled in a dozen different directions. It’s all part of running the most feared mafiain the city.

But these are not the problems I’m used to dealing with.

The door swings wide open as Adriano returns. He stops at the threshold and looks back over hisshoulder.

“Come on,” he says, his voice gentler than I’ve ever heard before. “It’s okay. You don’t have to bescared.”

I’m not sure that’s the right thing to say to anyone, let alone a child.

Mostly because it’s a lie.

If my physical presence wasn’t already imposing enough, I’m also tattooed across both arms, mychest, and the front of my neck.

Most of my scars are easy to overlook, including the one that snakes down my right arm.

But the scar on my face is less subtle. It cuts across my eye, slashing through my eyebrow and downalong my cheek like a crescent moon.

I hear the shuffling of little feet.

A second later, I see little white sneakers with bright pink laces.

Whole and real and twisting into herself like she wishes she could disappear from my sight.

She steps up next to Adriano, her head tilted down toward her feet.

A curtain of sunshine-blonde hair hides her face from view. Just how she wants it, I’m sure.

She’s wearing soft blue trousers and a white jumper with a picture of a monkey on the front. Her tinybody is tense, but as I look closer, I realize it’s because she’s trembling.

Unlike Adriano, my tone is not gentle.

It’s not a conscious choice. Over a decade of command has made me who I am. There’s not an ounceof tenderness left in me.

If there was even any there to begin with.

Despite all that, the girl doesn’t move.