Page 69 of The Brigadier

“You’ll make fun of me.”

He swatted me on the butt without hesitation. “You deserve another spanking.”

“Not this girl. I’m so good I squeak.”

His laugh was boisterous and one that could easily turn me into mush. “Um, I hate to tell you this but you are a brat. A solid brat.”

I nipped his chin and bit down on his lip, unable to help myself. He swatted me again in response. So I ground my hips back and forth.

“Oh, you are so going to get it,” he growled all over again. “But you’re not getting out of telling me what you want in life.”

He forced us apart once again, which I hated. “I want to write and illustrate, to a point anyway, children’s books. I used to write them when I was younger but forgot all about it. I even drew. I had all these sketch pads full of designs. Dragons. Bears. Doggies. You name it. They were only pen and pencil, but I thought they were damn good. I put like three I think to stories and I was so excited with one, I finally showed my mother.”

“I’m sure she was delighted.”

I laughed, the memory just another one I’d done everything to shove aside. “Unfortunately, I’d already been called a mafia princess by then, which meant I would have certain responsibilities in the future as the daughter of a prominent, powerful man. At least that was fully explained to me as she tore my story into little pieces.”

“Jesus fucking Christ. What the hell?”

“She told me she loved me but that I was far too much of a dreamer and that I had no real talent.”

“Why marketing? All that time spent.”

Shrugging, I hid behind my wineglass. “Because I finally found something that my father approved of, likely to share my expertise with his company. So I lost my dream, longing to just get the hell away from the life I’d been born into. Isn’t that sad and weak?”

“Not weak at all, my love. You don’t need to worry about that again. You tell me what you need and I’ll buy you the world. You will have your dream one way or the other.”

“Mmm… I love that and I might take you up on it. I have another dream maybe you can help me with.” I couldn’t help brushing my finger down his chiseled face. He’d left the stubble, likely for three days and honestly, it made him look even more rugged.

“I can try. Dream maker to the rescue.”

First, I rolled my fingertip around his lush lips, laughing when he pulled my finger all the way into his mouth, acting like some beast and he was going to bite it off.

“Down, big boy. Down.”

There were so many complex aspects of the man, but one thing continued to catch me off guard. I never would have believed a big-time mafia dude could act playful. Not in a million years. I had to remind myself that he was very human with likes, dislikes, needs, and wants just like Joe the accountant.

Maybe I’d mistakenly compared him to my father, who always seemed to be on edge.

“I’ll be the savage later. Watch out, little girl. The big, bad wolf is coming tonight.”

He could make me smile even in the middle of danger and fear.

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

“What dream can I provide?” he asked roughly.

“Help me figure out a delicious, savory, and fun-filled dinner.” I pushed away from him, laughing before backing toward the door.

He groaned as if trying to prepare food was ten times worse than killing a man in cold blood.

The craziness of my thought caught me off guard as I headed into the kitchen. I’d talked about needing normal in my life. My normal was knowing bad men such as Nikolay had and would kill people. It was a product of the profession, men becoming greedy and traitorous.

What troubled me the most was that I knew in my heart, someone close to him was plotting and planning his demise and that of others.

Maybe it was time for Supergirl to come out. I wasn’t a princess any longer.

Or was I?

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