Page 6 of Naughty Santa Daddy

“So, you ran into the garage and hid by some vehicles but have no idea what vehicles?”

I feel a slow grin turn up the corners of my mouth as I reply, “Well, one of them did look a lot like Santa’s sleigh, but I didn’t see his reindeer.”

“Do you think this is a joke, Ms. Bianchi? When I left the courtyard to come in here, the body count was up to twelve. It was a mass shooting. The death toll is higher than we’ve seen in a while. What part of this is funny to you?”

I had enough. I was done. The officer was being a condescending prick for no reason. I was just as innocent as all of the other people who were fired at; I just happened to be alive. Maybe that was his problem with me. I survived when others didn’t.

Rising slowly, I smile over at the sweet nurse who stayed in the room with me even after she finished cleaning and bandaging my cut. She will never know how much that means to me. “Iappreciate everything you did for me today,” I glance down at her badge, “Nurse Reynolds. You have been wonderful.”

“We are not finished here.”

“You have my statement, Officer Templeton.” There is no reason for him to keep me here. I may not be an attorney yet, but I do know my rights. Resisting the urge to reach out and nut-punch the cop, I walk to the door and open it. Glancing back, I level a hard stare at him. “No part of what happened out there today is funny. None of it. People were hurt. Several died. But instead of being out there trying to find the killers, you are in here interrogating me. An innocent victim. There’s something about me you don’t like. I have no idea what it is, but you latched onto it and became an overbearing jerk the moment you entered the room. Now, I’m going home because even though you seem to think I don’t have a heart, I do, and it is breaking for the families of the fallen today. If you need anything else, have someone call me. Anybody but you.”

I leave before he can say another word, the nurse on my heels.

The next morning, I wake to the sound of someone pounding on my door. Groaning, I slide from bed and grab my robe from the back of a chair. My head is throbbing, and my face is sore. I glance longingly back at my bed before sighing and leaving my bedroom to go find out who is about to remove my door from its hinges with their fist.

Yanking it open, I freeze as I stare up into the angry eyes of someone I haven’t seen since I left New York so long ago. Eyes that are exactly like mine. “Papá.”

I can’t hold back the tears. I miss my family so much. To everyone else, Lorenzo Allegrini is the devil. To me, he is my papá. My hero, my protector, my world. There are so many times I’ve rethought my decision to leave thefamiglia, but I just can’t condone what the mafia stands for. Especially not when I am going to school to become an attorney.

“You are coming home,figlia.”

“Papá.”

“No!” His voice thunders throughout the room, and I cringe as I worry about him waking people in the surrounding apartments. “You will pack your bags right now. You are coming home. I will get you an internship at the attorney’s office where your cousin, Enzo, works. You can go to college there. You will move back in with me and your mamá, where you will be safe!”

There is fear in his eyes, worry lines between his brows. I glance over at the clock on the living room wall to see how early it is and realize he must have seen what happened on the news late last night. It is obvious he’s gotten no sleep. I put my phone on silent before I went to bed, and I’m afraid when I look at it, it will be filled with missed calls and texts.

He came for me. When I thought I had no one, that I was going to have to deal with everything all on my own, my papá hopped on his jet in the middle of the night and came for me.

Stepping forward, I slide my arms around his waist and lay my head on his chest. Then, I let the tears fall that I’ve been holding back since the incident the day before. As much as I want to be independent, I need my father’s strength right now. I don’t want to be alone. It’s too terrifying after being shot at less than twenty-four hours ago.

“I will come home, Papá.”

“Good.”

I lean back and hold up a hand. “For Thanksgiving. The law firm has given me a few weeks off work after what happened,and I can talk to my professors about taking my classes online for a short time. I’m sure they will be fine with it after what happened. So, I will come home with you now, but after Thanksgiving, I am coming back to Alabama.”

“We shall see.”

I shake my head and let a small smile appear. My father is upset now, but I know him. In time, he will be fine. Hopefully, that time is by Thanksgiving, but if not, I will still be coming back. I have a plan for my life, and I fully intend to follow through with it.

I just need some time with my family first.

Chapter 3

Winter Travers

Winter Travers

Goliath

I sit at the large wooden table, surrounded by my brothers of the Hell’s Jokers MC. Smoke lingers in the air, casting a haze over the room. The table is long, solid, and worn from years of use, with fourteen chairs placed around it. I’m beside Cowboy on my left, his eyes shadowed by his signature cowboy hat, and JD on my right, his fingers tapping a restless beat on the tabletop. I’ve been out for two weeks now, fresh from a seven-year stint inprison for armed robbery, but parole’s a leash I can’t shake for the next two years.

Miller, our president, sits at the head of the table, exuding authority. Wash, the VP, is next to him, his face as unreadable as ever.

Miller clears his throat, the sound cutting through the low buzz of conversation. “Alright, let’s get down to business,” he says, his voice firm and commanding. “We’ve got some important matters to discuss.”

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