I open my eyes, releasing the air I’d sealed inside my lungs. “I…”

  “Why would I hurt you?”

  I don’t know how to explain it or if he has the capacity to even understand. I barely do myself. “I…” No words come to me. I have no way to explain that I was never hit by my father, but I always felt fear it might happen. The only time I remember living without absolute fear was when my mother was alive.

  His palm is warm as he cradles my cheek. He’s gentle, and it catches me completely off guard. “I will never hurt you,” he promises.

  “I’m sorry.”

  He curls his fingers into the skin of my neck and behind my ear. “There’s nothing to be sorry for, babe. And we still need each other.”

  I blink, confused. “We do?”

  He nods. “You need me.” His eyes move to my stomach, and I swallow. “The baby needs both of us. And I need you too. I have a hard time believing I’m in the clear yet.”

  “And when you are?” I ask, unable to stop the words from coming out of my mouth.

  “We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it. I don’t know if I’ll ever stop looking over my shoulder.”

  “The memory will fade,” I say softly, letting my cheek rest solely in his hand. “Your life will be normal again.”

  “If you’re going back to Miami, I’m taking you.”

  My breath catches in my throat. “But…”

  He shakes his head, closing the distance of the few feet left between us. “Ana, I’m not letting you go back there alone. If you want to go back, I’m taking you. You’re not driving back alone. Especially not after what happened yesterday. It’s too dangerous for the both of you.”

  “I’ll be careful.”

  “Why do you want to go back?”

  “I don’t know,” I answer honestly. “I miss having my own things like underwear or even my toothbrush.”

  “You want to get your stuff and come back here?”

  Is that what I want? Although I don’t have anything here, I feel like I have everything. For the first time, I can breathe easy, and I’m no longer looking over my shoulder, wondering who’s reporting my movements to my father or my asshole brother, Sean. I’ve experienced a peace I never knew was possible since the moment we climbed in my car and headed across the state.

  “Do you really want me here? I think I’m putting a damper on your life.”

  He gives me a soft, warm smile. “I want you here.”

  “You do?” I ask again, somehow finding it hard to believe. He must have a girlfriend, or maybe more than one, and having a pregnant woman at his place would put a huge crimp in his social life. “But what about your girlfriend?”

  God, I’m fishing. Will he know? I like Trace. I really like Trace. When I saw him being hauled into the building on my father’s property, I thought he looked nice. I could’ve been way wrong. Do bad guys have a look? In my mind, they do, but that’s only because I know too many of them and they all look and dress like my father.

  “There’s no one but you. If there were, I wouldn’t have brought you here, and I never would have agreed to us.”

  There’s no one but you. The words replay in my head. Does that mean there’s something between us? Something more than the arrangement we made before we got married? Maybe, but I am probably reading more into his words than I should be. “Okay.”

  “Okay?” he asks, staring me in the eyes.

  “Okay.”

  “Let’s go today. We’ll grab your things, and we can be back here tonight. Might as well get it over with, and then we can have all day tomorrow to get you settled before I have to be back at work.”

  “But what about your grandparents?”

  “They’ll understand.”

  “We can’t miss it.”

  His hand falls from my face, and I instantly miss the warmth of his skin against mine. He reaches into his pocket, lifts up his phone, and stabs at the screen. A moment later, I hear a woman’s voice.

  “Ma, we can’t make it today. Can you tell Grandma?”

  “What’s wrong?” his mother asks, sounding mildly panicked.

  “Nothing,” he tells her, gazing at me with his green eyes that could make my heart melt from across the room. “We’re going to go grab some of Ana’s things so she’s more comfortable.”

  “Maybe you should take your father as backup.”

  “Ma, don’t be ridiculous.”

  I wince because those are words no woman wants to hear, especially from a man.

  “We’ll grab and go. We don’t need backup. No one will even know we’re there.”

  “I don’t know, Trace. It’s dangerous.”

  “I’ll text you when we’re on our way back, so you don’t have a stroke. Relax, Ma. Nothing’s going to happen. Just apologize to Grandma and let her know that something important came up and that I’ll be there next weekend.”

  “Let me talk to your father.”

  “Ma, please. I’m begging you to let Ana and me handle it on our own. Just talk to Grandma for me.”

  She blows out a long, loud breath. “Fine. If I don’t hear from you by ten, I’m sending the entire family.”

  He glances toward the ceiling, shaking his head. “Fine, Ma,” he groans. “You’ll hear from me.”

  “I better, or else there’s going to be hell to pay.”

  “Got it, Ma.”

  “Be safe, baby. I love you.”

  “Love you too.”

  A pang of jealousy strikes me. The relationship he has with his mother is much like the one I always thought or hoped I’d have with mine. But she was taken from us too early for me to even have a taste of what life could be like with someone who loved me more than life itself.

  Trace taps the screen and shoves his phone back into his pocket. “You ready to roll, babe? We’re burning daylight.”

  I push away the thought of my mother and all the things I missed out on. Stay in the now, Ana. Soon enough, I’ll have a little one of my own, and nothing or no one will matter more than her or him. “Yes.”

  “I’m driving,” he informs me, snatching my keys from where he left them yesterday after we got back from his parents.

  “Whatever you want,” I tell him, not willing to argue. I hate driving around Tampa since I don’t know the area.

  “Good girl,” he says softly, and my insides warm immediately.

  He stalks away from me, opens the door, and waits for me. I stare at him for a minute, taking in his long, thin frame, his tanned skin, his thick brown hair, and his soft eyes. He’s strikingly handsome, but it’s the easiness and gentleness of his personality that make me want to be around him more than I probably deserve.

  “You’re being quiet,” he says to me when we’re near my building.

  The sense of dread and feeling of uneasiness have grown inside me with every passing mile. I hadn’t realized how on edge I’d been living. Not just since I figured out I am pregnant, but my entire life. When you have a father who’s a crime boss, no day is carefree. There are guards, threats, and danger every moment of every day.

  “What’s wrong?”

  I turn my attention toward him and away from the constant buzz of traffic around us. “Nothing.”

  He gives me a quick look, narrowing his eyes at me before turning his gaze back to the road. “Lies.”

  I twist my fingers in my lap, trying to control the distress that’s seeping into my bones. “It doesn’t feel like home here.”

  “Well, it’s a good thing we’re not staying. We’re grabbing your shit and going.”

  “Yeah,” I whisper.

  “What else?”

  I inhale and close my eyes. “I envy you.”

  “Why?”

  “You have such a full life. Parents, family, work. You’re surrounded by people who love you. I don’t have any idea how that feels.”

  “I’m sure your brother and dad must love you,” he says.

  I laugh sardonically. “They put up with me, but love…that’s a stretch. I’m not sure they’re capable of the emotion.”

  “They must care about you.”

  “They do in their own way, but not in the same way your parents and brothers do.”

  Even though he isn’t looking at me, I can clearly see the way his lips pull down at the sides. “I’m sorry,” he says.

  “It’s not your fault.”

  I’m not sure my brother and father care about me even the way Trace does, and he’s a virtual stranger.

  “We’re here,” I say, peering through the windshield at the skyscraper I’ve been living in for three years.

  His gaze follows mine, whistling when he sees the opulence. “Fancy. Let me guess. I’m sure you’re in the penthouse.”

  “Fifth floor,” I correct him.

  He pulls into the valet parking area in front of the entrance. “The fifth?”

  I nod. “It’s low enough that I can smell the ocean and hear the waves.”

  “You love the ocean, don’t you?”

  My car door opens, and the doorman gives me a slight bow as he holds it open, waiting for me to get out. “Ms. Kelly,” he says in a haughty fake English accent.

  “Henry,” I reply, stepping out of my car and giving him a smile. Trace is out a second later, leaving the car idling.

  “I’ll get that, sir,” Henry tells Trace.

  “We’ll only be an hour, Henry. Maybe two.”

  “As you wish, ma’am. I’ll keep the car out front instead of stowing it in the garage.”

  “Thank you.”

  Trace jogs around the car to catch up to me before I make it to the double glass doors. “This place is…”

  “I know,” I say, feeling a bit ashamed of the luxury. I can only imagine what he’s thinking. He probably assumes I judged him on his place, but I found it homey and charming.

  His hand touches the small of my back as he guides me inside, his head held high like he’s spent his lifetime walking into the marble-covered lobby. Trace leans over, putting his mouth close to my ear. “Are you okay?”

  “I’m fine,” I tell him, but I’m not sure I’m telling the truth.

  The warmth of his palm through the thin material of my shirt is a feeling I can’t escape. It’s both foreign and comforting. He spreads his fingers, leaving a burning sensation across my entire lower back. “I’m here if you’re not okay.”

  I believe him too. He hasn’t done anything to let me down in the few days we’ve known each other. He’s shown me more care and concern than anyone else in my life. The fact of how little I’ve been loved isn’t lost on me, and the intensity of how deeply I feel it has only grown.

  When we walk into the elevator, I expect his hand to fall away from me, but it doesn’t. He holds fast, placing the side of his body against mine. On the outside, we look like a couple in love. One that’s been in love for a long time.

  The elevator ride is over far too quickly, and he takes a step forward, putting space between us, but his hand doesn’t leave me as he guides me with him.

  “The last door,” I tell him, letting him lead the way to my apartment. “503.”

  He looks like he belongs in a building like this. He has an air about him. He’s rough but refined-looking, which is a combination that’s hard to find.

  Trace waits patiently at my side as I unlock my door, carefully glancing around the hallway. No doubt keeping an eye out for one of my dad’s men.

  “They never come up,” I inform him.

  “Who?” he asks, glancing down at me from his much taller frame.

  “My dad has always made it clear they’re not allowed farther than the lobby.”

  “Thank God for small miracles,” he mutters, finally bringing his full attention back to me and not the elevator and stairwell.

  I push open the door, taking a step inside, and Trace follows. “Sorry for the mess.” I glance around, noticing the clothes everywhere.

  “Did someone break in and do this?” he asks, looking around at all the clothes strewn everywhere.

  I’d like to say someone ransacked the place, but I did this. I’m not always the tidiest person, and when I’m in a hurry, I tend to throw my clothes everywhere until I find the perfect outfit.

  “No. It was me.” I sigh as I drop my purse and keys on the small table near the doorway.

  Trace’s hand leaves my back, sending a chill up my spine. He steps into the living space, soaking in the floor-to-ceiling windows, the loft-style layout, and the endless ocean views. He places his hands on his hips and is surrounded by blue. “I can see why you picked this place.”

  I walk up behind him, wanting to put my arms around his waist and curl into his back. But I stop myself, keeping my hands at my sides and far enough away that resting my cheek against him isn’t an option. “It’s tranquil.”

  “What do you do, Ana?” he asks me for the first time.

  “I’m a day trader.”

  “So, a stockbroker?”

  “Kind of, but for myself only.”

  His eyebrows rise. “Impressive.”

  “It’s almost an addiction sometimes.”

  There’s a knock on the door, and we snap our heads toward the noise.

  “Are you expecting someone?” he asks me.

  I shake my head. “I don’t know who it could be.”

  I take a step toward the door, but Trace grabs my arm and stops me. “I’ll get it. You stay here.”

  I want to argue, but the firmness in his voice gives me pause. I stay where I am, watching as Trace stalks toward the entry.

  When the door swings open, my father’s eyes meet mine.

  11

  TRACE

  “Dad,” Ana whispers as her face drains of color, matching the stark, crisp walls of her loft.

  “Ana,” he replies in a surly tone before stepping into her foyer without being asked.

  Ana glances at me as her father’s presence fills the space, sucking the oxygen out of the room. I’m too stunned to speak, confused on how he knew we were here so quickly.

  “What are you doing here?” she asks him, placing her hand on the kitchen island like she’s trying to snatch the strength of the granite to use for herself.

  Mr. Kelly lifts his chin defiantly. “I’m your father. Do I need a reason?”

  Her right shoulder drops, and I can see any ounce of confidence leaving her. “What do you want, Dad?”

  “What do I want?” he repeats, but in a scathing tone. “What do I want?”

  She nods. “How did you know we were here? I know I didn’t tell you. My residence is supposed to be off-limits. You broke the promise.”

  He laughs, but not in a way that puts a smile on anyone’s face. “I broke the promise?” He touches his meaty hand to his chest. “You broke the promise by releasing—” he finally turns his gaze toward me “—you broke it the moment you helped this man while thinking you were stabbing me in the back.”

  Ana sways a little but catches herself when she grips the countertop tighter. “I don’t agree with what you do. And anyway, he wasn’t yours. I stabbed Sean in the back, and the little weasel deserved it.”

  Mr. Kelly’s eyes are still trained on me. Someone else may have been petrified. He’s the biggest crime boss in Florida, and I’m in his crosshairs—again—but I grew up surrounded by men who perfected that hard stare. It is a look I am all too familiar with. It doesn’t have the same effect on me it has on others.

  “I got an interesting call today,” he says, but his voice is softer this time. “One I never thought I’d receive.”

  “I’m tired, Dad. I don’t have the energy to beat around the bush and play your mind games for the next hour. Get to your point so we can get on the road again.”

  Mr. Kelly tilts his head as his muscles stiffen. He pulls in a long, deep breath as he curls the fingers of his right hand into a tight fist. “A friend of mine in the county records office called to tell me about a marriage certificate with your name and I assume his—” he turns toward me again with his eyes narrowed “—stating you were married last week.”

  Ana angles her body until she’s leaning her hip against the counter, and she places her hand on her opposite hip, throwing more attitude at her father than I ever thought possible. “And?”

  “You married an outsider behind my back, Ana. This is unacceptable behavior, even for someone like you. It will be annulled immediately, and you will go back on the path I laid out for you.”

  Ana’s back stiffens, and she stands straighter than before. “I will do no such thing. Trace is my husband and will stay that way until either he or I decide. Not you. Never you.”

  “I’m your father,” he reminds her as if she could somehow forget her shit luck to be born to such a rotten son of a bitch.

  “I’m a grown woman, Dad. I’m not a little girl you can boss around. I’ve let you get away with far too much for far too long. You’ve made too many decisions for me in my life, but that ends here. It ends today.”

  Mr. Kelly jerks his head back like he’s been coldcocked. “Excuse me?”

  I move forward, ready to step in. I know this is going to go from bad to worse in a heartbeat. But before my foot is firmly planted on the tile, Ana gives me a small headshake, probably knowing I’m about to open my mouth.

  “You don’t get to make decisions for me anymore, Dad. I’ve allowed it to go on too long. I’m not getting an annulment unless Trace or I want to file for one. Now, we have a lot to do and only a short time to do it. You can show yourself out.”

  Mr. Kelly doesn’t move. He blinks, looking bewildered for a moment. Redness crawls up his neck before covering his face. “A whore just like your mother,” he whispers.

  Ana gasps, her father’s words slicing through her like a sharp knife.

  I can no longer stand by and watch the man eviscerate her for no reason other than her wanting to live her own life on her own terms. A father has a job, but once a person is of a certain age, their duty is over. Never in my life have my parents talked to me the way her father is talking to her now.

  I don’t think as I step toward Mr. Kelly, getting right in his space, blocking his view of Ana. “She asked you to leave.”