"Yeah, say my name, Evie. Scream it!"

  "Ah, ah, fuck! Nico!"

  I felt my balls tighten, but I wasn't ready. I pulled out. I pushed her to the floor, on her back. She looked surprised as I did, gasping as I pinned her down by the wrists and shoved into her again. Her legs wrapped around me, forcing me inside her deeper, plunging in.

  "You. Are. Mine. Evie." I bucked into her, sure to bruise her in more ways than one. Mine—all mine. There was nothing and no one who was going to change that.

  "Nico—fuck, right there. Right there!"

  She came undone again, and this time I came with her—came in her. Panting, I stayed there a moment before pulling out. I rolled over onto my back. The tile felt good. Cold. It was calming against the heat of my skin. Evie lay beside me, panting as well. I looked at her, watching between her thighs as milky cum ran out of her. She was marked. She was mine.

  She was also standing up, flushed and refusing to look at me.

  I don't know why, but that made me feel guilty. I watched her slide on her panties and her shorts.

  "I'm going to go shower," she said, her voice hoarse and regretful. I let her go.

  Chapter Seven

  Evie

  "Nico ... Nico ..."

  I stood under the spray of the water, touching my clit and thinking about how much I loved the feeling of Nico Esposito forcing his way between my thighs. It was ...well, honestly, it was crazy. I should have been furious. I should have felt disgusted.

  I didn't.

  I was hot, wet, and throbbing.

  I wanted him.

  I didn't know if I truly wanted to be his. I didn't know if I wanted to be possessed—not permanently. Not forever. But in moments like the alley, and the one that I had just had with him, I liked being his and being possessed in the moment. I liked how he fucked me. I liked how he handled me. I loved feeling used in the moments when his cock and fingers would just ... shove into me and claim my pleasures.

  But there was a baby in me now, and I couldn't ...I shouldn't ...I had other things to think about! I shouldn't have let him take me like that, but there was something that made desire burn to my very core for Nico.

  "Nico ...Nico ..." My fingers worked furiously at my clit. Circles, pressing in. I was so sore inside from how hard he’d taken me. I loved the ache. It made me wetter—made it run down my thighs and into the water as it slid down the drain. I grabbed one of my breasts, pretending it was Nico's hand. I imagined what it'd be like to have him take me with his mouth—

  "Ah!" I clenched, cumming all over my fingers and panting.

  What was wrong with me, I wondered, that after everything, I was getting off in the shower with Nico's name hot and heavy on my lips?

  LATER THAT EVENING, Nico and were called into his father's office. I had spent the remainder of the day in the music room, where the piano was. I hadn't dared touch it, knowing that it had been Nico's mother's piano, but I did long to do so nonetheless. Instead, I sat in the window seat, watching the comings and goings of the compound and trying not to let myself think too hard, knowing that it wasn't going to do me any good. Allan came by, poking his head in.

  "Hey," he said. "Boss wants to see you and T."

  He'd led me out, and we were met by Nico. Nico stared at me a bit, and I averted my eyes; I didn't know what he was going to say to that, but I also didn't know whether or not I wanted to be the person to break first.

  We walked in silence down the hall, to the other wing of the sprawling home. Allan gave a little salute as he dropped us off.

  "Have fun, kiddos."

  Nico rolled his eyes and shook his head.

  "Big idiot."

  He looked down at me again.

  "You ready?"

  I laughed, a little lacking in the humor of it.

  "As I'll ever be."

  "It'll be okay."

  The softness in his words was a huge contrast to the way he had taken me earlier, and they surprised me. I hid it well as he opened the door and let me in. I stepped in first, with Nico behind me. The room was like a typical office space, but large and spacious. There were book cases lining the walls and pieces of art in the spaces between, small sculptures and statues adorning some of the shelves. My eyes were drawn to the man sitting behind the large, dark-wood desk in front of the giant, wall-length window that the office boasted.

  I could see where Nico got his looks from. Though his father was older, he was still handsome—still could probably be a lady killer if he tried. His grey hair was slicked and combed back away from his face, his mustache and beard thick. His dark eyes regarded me, and I stared right back at him. I wondered what he thought of me. About this situation.

  "I'm glad to see you're finally awake and about," he said. "Geno Esposito. Head of the Esposito family and babysitter to my son and his ...negligent behavior."

  I raised a brow.

  "Evie Brown," I said. "Thank you for allowing me to be here, at least for the time being."

  His lips twitched beneath his mustache.

  "You're aware I had no idea you would be coming."

  "I surmised it, considering the less-than-ideal situation. I'm sorry that this was brought to you so suddenly, Mr. Esposito."

  "Please. Call me Geno."

  His head tilted a little and he continued to stare. He looked a little more interested, however. I wondered what had changed his mind, if anything at all.

  "I'm impressed that she seems to have more manners than her father," he said. "I like her. She's courteous. Obviously smart. You could learn from her, Nico."

  "Father—"

  "I want to ask her some questions," Geno said, interrupting. "What do you make of all of this, Evie? This ...accident of a pregnancy between you and my son."

  "It was an accident that happened between two people who weren't ...thinking quite clearly."

  "Hm ...I'd say. You both had to know who the other was."

  "I did."

  "Spunky. You let my son at you even knowing who he was. Intentional?"

  "I just wanted to have some fun that night. I wasn't thinking past getting off, to be honest." It was a little crude, but I was picking up on how to answer Geno Esposito, especially if I was going to be around the man a lot. Like I thought he would, he smirked, impressed.

  "Up front. I like that. And what do you intend to do now?"

  Ah. That's where he was going to get me. I bit my lip.

  "I want to do whatever is best for my child," I said finally. "I know my father thinks that ...giving it away is the best. I think he's wrong. I think—" But there I stopped.

  "Go on," Geno urged.

  "I think he doesn't want me ruining his image. It has little to do with me ...or this child. I wanted to think that maybe he cared about what this would bring on me and his grandchild, but I know better. I've always known better."

  "So that leaves you with us."

  "Seems so."

  Geno tented his fingers and rested his chin on their tips.

  "What would you say if I offered you a place here?"

  "What do you mean by that?"

  "I mean that I would be willing to have you in my home, growing fat with my grandchild, at little stress to you. Raising the child would be up to you and Nico," he said, eyes flicking for the first time to his son. "But my house would be your house. You would be free to come and go as you please, within as much reason as you can guess."

  "What would you want in return?"

  He smiled.

  "You're a smart girl. Your father wastes you being a pretty thing to show off at his parties. You graduated high school with an associate's degree and you already have a bachelor's. You would be looking at going into law, no?"

  My eyes narrowed.

  "How do you know this?"

  "I know everything that I need to know about the people in families who ...play in my world."

  "My father isn't a mobster," I said, laughing a little. "He has cop buddies, okay, but he's not—"

  "How do you think he climbed the political ladder so quickly, if not for a bit of outside influence?" I swallowed. His smile remained. "I won't sit here and presume to ruin your relationship with your father. Put simply, I hope to build a relationship with you, as you're the mother of my first and currently only grandchild. I have no desire to be untruthful with you, however. I would like you to assist around here in a few ways. You might be a woman, but I've never discriminated."

  "You want me to work in exchange for staying here and having control over what happens with my child?" I clarified. "What if I wanted to leave?"

  "Then you may, but I would caution you that, outside of my family's reach, there are people who could and might find about what grows inside you. People who would seek to hurt me and my son. The same goes for your father. You're carrying a rather ...interesting piece of blackmail inside you. Where your father wants to get rid of it, I want to help you."

  "I see."

  "You don't have to choose today—"

  "I want to stay here." It sounded ludicrous, even as I said it. But I knew that, between going back to my father and staying here, this was the best choice. "I want to stay here. I want to raise my child. But if I do this ...I want to know the truth about my father. And I want to know the truth about you, too."

  Geno smiled at me.

  "My dear, I think I'm going to like having you around."

  Chapter Eight

  Nico

  I knew exactly what my father was doing, having Evie stay here and telling her about her father. He was trying to get an in. She might not see it, but I knew how my father was. He might look after family, in the loosest sense of the term, but it wasn't always out of a sense of benevolence.

  That being said ...Evie was staying. And I wasn't going to tell her anything that was going to have her leaving me because she couldn't trust my father or some shit like that. She was agreeing willingly to stay here—to raise our child—under the stipulation that she would have to contribute something to the running of the business.

  Honestly, I took it as a step to keeping her here and keeping her here for good.

  I didn't know what the fuck was wrong with me. I wanted her body. I wanted her. There wasn't a scenario that would go through my head that didn't involve her just never leaving. I wasn't about to let her go—wasn’t about to give her up. I wouldn't give her a reason to leave.

  I blew smoke out my car window while I sat and waited for the light to turn green, thinking about how she had felt the last time I'd fucked her—tight and warm. But then she'd just gotten up and left. She'd wanted it, but it hadn't happened again in the last two days. My father—generous bastard that he was—had set her up in one of the guest bedrooms in my wing instead of in my room, where she belonged. He claimed that it was to preserve her independence. Bullshit. He wanted to play the good guy.

  I shook my head and tossed my cigarette out of my car window. What a crock of shit, honestly. I sped up when the light turned green. I had other things to think about right now anyway.

  We'd gotten intel that the boys from the night I took Evie had been taken out of the hospital and released to police custody. They hadn't been killed—or worse—but Rick Brown's goons were trying to get them on charges, just to say that they had some of my men. I told that fucker not to fuck with me. But that's what blackmail was for, and I was good at that.

  I parked in front of the station, zipping in there like I owned the place—and hell, maybe one day I would. I had a file in my hand, full of everything that I needed to make this all go smoothly. One of them came out the front as I walked up, his eyes going wide. He looked like a rookie.

  "Hey you can't—"

  "Back up, boy, I'm here on business and I'm not afraid to clock you."

  With that, I pushed myself inside.

  The city police department was a real swanky place. They were loaded on tax-payer money, not to mention pay offs from the politicians, judges, and other 'public servants' who kept their pockets well-lined and their tables fatly stocked. It was a corrupt world, but hey, what were you to do? I strode to the front desk, and the cop sitting there eyed me suspiciously.

  "Esposito."

  "Cunningham."

  "The fuck are you doing here, boy?"

  "Pretty rude words to say. I come here politely and without backup," I said, tilting my head. "Where the fuck is your boss? I need to talk to him. We got business." I held up the file folder in my hand. Cunningham frowned.

  "We don't have any business with you, Esposito. Get the fuck outta here. Especially after that shit you and your boys pulled the other night—"

  "Cunningham!" A booming voice echoed through the police station. I looked toward the back, where the office door to the chief was propped open. Marshal. I smirked and walked over.

  "Hey, you can't—"

  "Cunningham, shut the hell up and finish doing your paperwork," Marshal ordered.

  I followed Marshal into his office. Despite the fact that Marshal was getting his pockets lined as much as his boys, he at the very least knew how to deal good business. He had done a few deals for my father back in the day when they were still the young bucks around town, and he continued to do those favors in order to keep balance—police, the politicians, and the mafia. It was a trifecta of fucked-up shit, but for it to work, we had to work together. At least in some small capacity.

  I sat myself down, setting the file on the desk. Marshal didn't pick it up.

  "I was wondering when you'd come down for your boys."

  "You were expecting me?"

  "I knew when Rick decided to pull our strings to try and bust you that we'd probably end up seeing your face here in some capacity. Mostly, I'm surprised it took you so long. What's your price today, Esposito? I don't got all day."

  See, this was why I liked Marshal. He may have been a blue, but he was Goddam practical.

  I opened up the file. The first picture was Cunningham. He had a girl with her skirt hiked up over her ass, legs spread, and his cock buried in her pussy. The next showed the girl's face.

  "Christ. Is that—"

  "Mayor Callahan's seventeen-year-old daughter? Yep."

  I flipped to the next picture. It was Cunningham's partner. He didn't have anything as damming as underage pussy in his picture, but he was stuffing his face full of cock in the back of one of the town's most popular gay bars. Now, I didn't have a problem with who people fucked—man and woman or man and man, who gave a shit as long as you were getting some? But I knew a lot of people who would pay good money to use this against the precinct.

  "You wanna see the third one?"

  "You'd show me anyway."

  I flipped to the last picture, this one of a group of Marshal's cops surrounding a couple of young girls. There were a couple other pictures as well. The implications were obvious.

  "Now, you know, there's a lot we could do with all this," I told him. "For one, even your boys and all your clout can't hide cold, hard black-and-white pictures. Underage pussy ...homosexuality ...gang rape ..." I tilted my head. "You know, I know plenty of people who would kill for just one of these photos. My father was pretty adamant, especially about the ones with the girls. He doesn't like seeing little girls hurt. Used."

  "When do you want your boys released?"

  I smirked.

  "Sundown. Return them in good condition." I stood up, straightening out my jacket while Marshal watched me damn near unflinchingly, in that odd way that he always did—like nothing that was going on was actually a bother to him in the grand scheme of things.

  “Oh, also. You might wanna tell your boys to reign it in a bit. It’s only a matter of time before someone’s family comes to us asking for a favor because they know that’s we’ll carry it out for them without a care. I mean it about the girls.”

  Marshal nodded, said nothing, and I made my way out.

  One thing was fixed. Now just a few more things that I needed to settle. I wanted to do something for Evie—maybe bring her back something or maybe take her out somewhere when I got back. What was the protocol for any of this? I had no idea.

  I was pulling another cigarette out of my jacket when I bumped into someone.

  Well, what do you fucking know? I found myself practically nose-to-nose with Rick Brown.

  I smirked at the man.

  “Governor,” I said. “What a pleasant surprise. And what are you doing here, mingling with the common folk?” We both pushed out the precinct doors, and I was met with flashes of cameras. I ignored them, however. They meant nothing to me, and I wasn’t going to miss this opportunity to fuck with him.

  “Esposito,” he said curtly. He inclined his head to the reporters, though seemed to be disinclined to take any of their pressing, urgent questions. How funny. I continued smirking.

  “Flustered, Governor?”

  “Governor! How do you know Nico Esposito? Are you close? Do you have comment on the whereabouts of your daughter and the rumors that she’s been spending time with the mafioso?”

  “Governor, can you explain to us the kind of charity work that your daughter is supposedly doing?”

  “Governor, Governor!”

  I laughed as he declined more comments while we made our way down the police station stairs.

  “Is this a little too much for you, Governor?” I asked.

  He scoffed.

  “There is little that is too much to me; I merely see no point in entertaining gossip, just as I don’t feel like entertaining the childish antics of the city scum.”

  My jaw clenched.

  “What did you—”

  “I’ll make this very clear.” Rick Brown spoke louder here, drawing himself up. “I will not be cowed by you, your father, or the people with whom you associate. Now, boy, if you’ll excuse me, I’ve work to do, namely seeing to it that, eventually, your name is nothing more than a cautionary whisper for little boys and little girls who think it’s cool to play gangster on the weekends. War is for soldiers, boy. I would suggest you remember what you are and what you aren’t in regards to that. As for my daughter,” he turned his attentions to the reporters, who were notetaking and rolling their cameras during his whole little speech. “My daughter is and always will be under my careful watch and protection. She has decided to retain a bit of privacy during this election, which I am respecting. Now. If you’ll excuse me.”