Page 12 of Sweet Temptation

Soren must have passed out in the back because I haven't heard him shift or utter a word in twenty or more minutes. Damien drives with a sour expression, but I don't blame him. Drug dealers trying to get money out of the mafia? Spooner must be dense.

The blaring of a cell phone brings me out of my head, and I glance at Damien's phone just as he swipes to answer. Valeria. "What is it? I don't really have time for this at the moment."

I hear crying from her end of the call and gasped breaths. "I should have told you… shouldn't have just broken things off without telling you. I-I'm pregnant with your child, and I'm in labour. The baby is coming—" Her voice breaks at the end as she cries again.

Pregnant with Damien's kid? My lips twitch but I say nothing. Just another thing to add to our protection list, another person to die for. "I'm already on my way to Chicago, but I’ll be there as soon as I can. But don't think we won’t be talking about this or the secret you kept for nine damn months."

My brother's voice snaps as he clicks the end on the call. My eyes fly to him, narrowing slightly as he glances at me. "Don't even start, okay. I know. Another person shoved into our lives and on the radar to get killed because of what our life is," he grumbles.

I say nothing, but I agree with him because this baby is going to be our downfall as much as his. We'll bleed and die for it just to keep his kid safe.

A kid with the last name of a mafia family that bleeds danger into Chicago. Licking my lips, I keep my finger on the top of my gun with narrowed eyes.

This just changed everything. Not just for Damien, but for our entire family.

I must have drifted off, because the next thing I'm conscious of is Soren shaking me gently. My eyes flutter open and I take in the surroundings. We made it to Chicago. It's pr'bably about four in the morning. My eyes drift to a still sleeping Hanna on my lap. I switched with Soren eight hours from Chicago, and I don't ev'n remember falling asleep.

"Shou"d we go to our mother's fi'st?" Sor"n asks me, exhaustion filling his eyes as he stares into the city. I shake my head slowly, rubbing my eyes, only to wince when I remember my broken hand. My good hand rests back on Hanna's ba'k as we drive toward the hospital that Valeria texted to Damien's ph'ne.

When the car comes to a stop, my brother flees and waves off Soren's questions as I climb into the driver's seat. My youngest brother has no idea what's going on, and I won’t be the one to tell him. Definitely not tonight, anyway.

Pulling out of the emergency area, I speed toward my childhood home. The mansion I spent most of my life in. The home that grew me into the made man I am today.

Once the car comes to a stop, my brother scrambles out, grabbing the bags we picked up on the drive with clothing filled in them. I turn and face Hanna, unbuckling both of us before I lift her out of the car and carry her to the front steps of my mother's house.

Soren uses the spare key to unlock the door as we all quietly make our way into our childhood home. "Let's sleep and then we'll get down to business," he whispers as he carries all the luggage into the house.

Soren yawns as he shoves the spare key back under the mat and closes the door gently. "Hanna can sleep in my room with me. I don't trust anyone," I reply, walking down the hall to my old bedroom.

Laying Hanna on the bed, I cover her up with blankets before my eyes find the doorway. Soren's standing there with two bags in his hands, waiting patiently for me. "Thanks," I whisper, taking them and laying them on the floor. I say goodnight to my brother, then shoot Damien a good luck text before I crawl into bed next to Hanna on the queen-sized bed and drift off to sleep.

SEVEN

My eyes flutter open as the morning sun crawls through the curtains. I take a look around, realising I have no idea where I am. Turning my head, my eyes flicker, getting used to the light. My eyes zero in on a body asleep peacefully beside me, and I realise it's Damon. My eyes widen when I notice he isn't wearing a shirt.

Lifting the blanket, I sigh with relief when I realise his boxers are on and my clothes from yesterday are covering me. Yawning, I pull myself from the bed and rub my eyes. Eying Damon's motionless body, I grab my bag of clothes and quickly change into a new clean pair of comfortable clothes.

I turn and look at Damon to see him sitting on the edge of the bed, rubbing his eyes. Quickly fixing my crazy hair, I yawn and shove my dirty clothes into my overnight bag.

"Damon," a harsh voice comes through the door. I avert my eyes and scramble toward the bed.

Damon quickly pulls a pair of black skinny jeans up his legs before throwing on a T-shirt. "Come in."

A blonde woman with blue eyes enters the bedroom with no emotion on her face. "I didn't even know you were here till I got a text from Damien around four in the morning. Why are you here?" Her voice holds zero sympathy or love.

Damon puts on the best smile he can before picking up his cell phone. "We can't stay, Mom; we have things to take care of."

"Like what? Why are you here?" she snaps. I feel out of place in the hostility. Swallowing, I slip past the two of them and wait in the hallway.

Leaning against the wall, I listen to the loud commotion coming from the bedroom, but I can't decipher all of what is being said.

"Who's the girl?" The woman's voice rises into pure and utter disgust.

"Her name is Hanna. And it's kind of complicated, so if you would just like to tone down the disappointment dripping in your voice," Damon snaps. I hear a harsh sound come from the room, but I don't hear another voice.

Shuffling uncomfortably, I cross my arms over my chest while I wait for Damon to exit the room. "Margarita!" someone calls from down the staircase to my right. A short girl with a bob cut stands at the staircase with a broom in her hand.

A maid, I assume. It hits me then that I have no idea where Damon comes from or anything about his family. But I jumped at the opportunity to be away from my stepbrother and left with him and his brothers. A shiver skates down my spine at the unknown answers circling my brain.

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