Page 112 of Secret Baby for the Italian Mafia King

“Marlow didn’t have any part in it. I couldn’t roll up with a bunch of men to Jon’s place without getting you killed in the process, but a strip club? That was easy. Marlow ran at the first sign of trouble. Elijah has an in with one of the girls there.”

“Cali,” I fill in for him. He seems surprised I would know that, but he continues.

“She and a few others were willing to help right out the gate—”

My heart flutters, skipping with gratitude. I need no explanation for that. I know what women like that do when there’s a child indanger, when there’s something that they can do to help—theyrally.

It makes sense to me, finally. We try to help others the way we wish to be helped ourselves. I’m sure plenty of those girls have sat up at night thinking about someone coming and rescuing them. I know I used to.

“But for the holdouts, she helped negotiate a deal. And…I did make a few big promises to get their help. And it involves you.”

“Me?”

Ren hesitates, looking into his glass.

“Well, I was going to bring this up later, once things are settled, but…how would you feel about running a strip club?”

I gawk at him.

“You want me to run a place like that? I’m not Marlow, Ren. I’m not…Icouldn’t—”

“I don’t want you to run it the way Marlow ran it. I want you to make it legitimate. Aboveboard. You can turn the offer down, if you want. But I’ll have to find someone else to do it, and I won’t trust them half as much as I would trust you. And neither will they.”

I search his face, finally realizing that Elijah must have told him that we were all old friends. That I had been trying to help one of them. And now, I have the chance to help all of them. To actually make that difference I had always dreamed of.

“So, you run the family business and I run a strip club under your name,” I say, feeling the idea out.

“Not…exactly,” Ren says.

I glance at him.

“When I was trying to make sure you and Elijah both would be taken care of, I handed over the business to him in full,” Ren explains. “He got the revenue. You’d get the fortune, when I died. It’s not in my control anymore. The family is in all the ways that matter, but legally, I’ve washed my hands of it.”

“Won’t Elijah give it back?”

“Knowing him?” Ren sighs as if it’s a fault. “Probably.” His eyes linger on Harper, his face passive. “But I don’t know if I want it. I have a lot of time to make up for, and I’m tired of distractions.”

“If I’m at a strip club half the time, and Harper is in school most of the year, you wouldn’t be very distracted.”

Ren laughs a low, sweet rumble. His arm wraps around my shoulder as he pulls me in against him, his lips pressing to my temple.

“Nadia,” he says, his voice soft, “You and Harper aren’t the distractions.”

His lips roam down and find mine, his kisses soft and sweet, with just the darkest little bite.

Epilogue

Nadia

Ren and I sprawl in bed, side by side, my body half draped over his. The scar tissue on the inside of Ren’s palm gleams pink and silver, a matching mark on the outside of his hand. I trace it until he finally draws it away.

“Stop,” he mumbles.

“It’s just a habit.”

“I know you were thinking about it.”

And he’s right. I was thinking about it, even now, with long and hazy weeks stretching between us and that day. It has slowly sunk into time’s horizon, the light of that horror still visible, but growing just a little dimmer each day.

---