Page 47 of Naughty Santa Daddy

I’m proud to be an Allegrini, but as I see the love in my mother’s eyes, I’m proud to be her daughter, too.

“He wants to meet at the dock.” Enzo clenches his phone tight enough that I hear a crack. “In two hours.”

Dante has been silent until now. He shakes his head. “My father will be ready, Uncle Lorenzo. He’s had time to prepare.”

“So have I.”

Part of my father’s lucrative empire is shipping, along with importing and exporting goods. He’s made a fortune in moving merchandise and selling to the right buyer. We own several warehouses and a profitable jewelry store chain. Along the Gulf Coast of Alabama, we have a port where our ships conduct business.

That is where Uncle Carlo will wait.

I know my father already anticipates this outcome. He prepares for every scenario, and it’s kept him alive all these years because he’s intelligent and ruthless. There’s a plan, and I need to know the details.

“Papá, tell me on the way.” I turn toward the door with purpose and determination driving me forward.

If blood has to spill this night, I accept no outcome but one. My enemies will fall at my feet.

Goliath

Blood drips from my knuckles and splatters my clothes. It’s been over an hour, and I’ve learned nothing new. Dawg is useless. Either he’s not the mastermind behind the operation, or he’s got balls of steel. I’m betting on the former. Sick of his cries and feeling restless, without the answers I came to find, I’m growing dangerously impatient.

My hands lift, and I take a step back. “He’s all yours.”

My brothers stood behind me as I worked on Dawg, delighting in the beating and torture that followed. Howls and laughter filled the room as I used the tools on the walls, implementing everything around me to find the truth. Dawg knows nothing. He needs to answer to the club. At least, what’s left of him.

They’re ready to finish the betrayer.

I spin on my heel and leave them to it, feeling like my skin is about to crawl off my body. I’m pissed. Frustrated. And fucking annoyed.

Miller follows me outside as I spot an old hand pump in the yard and begin to use the handle, washing the blood from my palms as water begins to flow. I dry my hands on my jeans and begin to pace. I’m restless. Time is ticking. Alex and my child are no safer now than when I arrived.

“Fucking breathe, man. We’re handling it.”

His words are meant to soothe the beast inside me, but it only roars louder. “Not until Wash and Rabbit are dead.”

Miller regards me with the same stare he’s had since we were kids, the look that says he sees through all my bullshit and knows what’s really haunting me. “You’re worth it, Braxton.”

It’s just the two of us. No one else exits the building. It’s all laid bare in an instant with his words—the shit that’s eating me up.Alex deserves better.

Right now, we aren’t just brothers in a motorcycle club. We’re best friends. As close as you can get to being blood-related without sharing DNA. He knows every dark secret in my past, and I know his. We’ve been through hell and back again, and there’s no one I want riding by my side more than Miller.

The use of my real name punctuates his sincerity. We rarely call each other by the names we grew up with, but I sense he wants me to accept what he’s spoken. Am I walking away from Alex? Hell no. But there’s a little nagging voice inside me that says I’m bringing her into a world she tried to escape from, and it isn’t fair. More than that, I’m a criminal—an outlaw. I’ve got a record, and I’ve served hard time.

I’m going to be a father.It hits me as I stand there, and I blink. All the air whooshes from my lungs as I stagger. The full weight of it is almost too much to stand against.

But then the joy hits me—the excitement. My eyes close, and I let it sink in. Alex. She’s fucking everything. Her. Our baby. The life we want.I’m all in, baby.

And just like that, I dismiss the last of my doubts and uncertainty. My head snaps up, and I square my shoulders. I know what to do.

“There it is,” Miller nods. “Finally got your shit settled. I worried I needed to bring you a tissue for your tears.”

“You’re a dick,” I growl.

He chuckles as his phone vibrates in his hand. With one glance at the screen, his expression changes. All humor is gone in an instant. A calm fury enters his eyes as he swipes across the screen and reads a text. “Motherfucker.”

“What?” I ask, nearly snatching the phone from his hand.

He levels me with a glare. “Wash and Rabbit are waiting for us.”

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