Page 35 of Corrupted Empire

“He’s going to be completely fine,” Dr. Green announces finally. “I would keep him away from your change bowl just in case, lest he starts to jingle when he walks.” He tickles Harry in the belly, and Harry shrieks with laughter.

I notice Silvano has pulled out his phone and is speaking quietly into the receiver, and my heart constricts. He’s calling Gabriel. I’m sure of it.

Dr. Green takes his leave, and Silvano smiles at me. “Gabriel would like to see Harry in the living room.”

“Is it okay if I go too?” I ask irritably.

Silvano nods, and I lift Harry into my arms and follow Gabriel’s second through to the living room.

When I step inside, the nostalgia of it all almost makes me falter. There are two tall cherrywood bookshelves lining opposite walls, and long arched windows gaze out at the garden beyond. Two elegant red leather sofas sit across from one another, with an antique coffee table floating between.

I have spent hours in this room—playing with Harry, researching and writing articles, reading one of the hundreds of books stacked on the shelves. This was the room where I tried to interview Gabriel after he first learned he was a father. My eye lingers on the cushioned back of the closest sofa, where the heated exchange ended with Gabriel ruthlessly fucking me.

Gabriel is sitting on the furthest sofa, one long leg crossed over the other, the paper open in his lap. He starts to fold it as we enter, but doesn’t look up.

“I’ll leave you to it,” Silvano says, ducking from the room.

“Daddy!” Harry exclaims.

When Gabriel’s face lifts, his eyes do not meet mine. He gets to his feet, grinning, and strides over to pull Harry into his arms. My breath catches at his closeness, as the scent of sandalwood and musk envelops me, but Gabriel doesn’t even acknowledge me. He may as well be lifting Harry out of a high chair.

“There’s my boy,” Gabriel says, walking back to the sofa. He sinks down and starts to tickle Harry. “I heard you ate something you shouldn’t have. Should I shake you and see if you jingle?”

Harry squirms, giggling. “No!”

My heart splinters. All that warmth, and yet he leaves me in the cold. It hurts being this close to him. It hurts that he seems to be pretending I don’t exist. And it’s not fucking fair.

“Are you even going to look at me?” I snap.

Both Gabriel and Harry pause. Gabriel’s eyes lift to the doorway, where I am standing with my fists clenched at my sides.

His smile melts away, and his eyes glaze with contempt. He looks beautiful. Fierce. I trace the stern lines of his cheeks, the sensual curve of his lips, the bottomless depths of his black eyes.

Heat fills my belly, a potent mixture of anger and lust. I can’t help it. Our relationship has always volleyed between fucking and fighting, and the tenderness that grew between us took time to fully blossom. But always the fucking. Always the fighting. Seeing him angry instinctively stirs something dark inside of me.

I push past it and walk toward Gabriel, digging in my purse to pull out the thick manila folder. I hold it out for him, and he takes it reluctantly.

“What is this?” Gabriel asks.

I sit on the sofa next to him and pull Harry onto my lap. “It’s everything I know about the Cartel and their drug operations,” I tell him. “Who they’re dealing to, which houses they’re dealing from, where they’ve been arranging meetings with their Irish contacts.”

Gabriel cocks a brow and pulls out the thick stack of documents. He flips through them while I play with an increasingly grumpy Harry. I don’t blame the kid. If I hadn’t seen my father in over a month, I’d be upset too if I got two seconds of face time and then my mom distracted him. But it’s now or never.

I study Gabriel’s expression, watching as one of his lips crooks into what could be considered a smile. He looks up. The force of his full attention spears through me like a jagged blade. And I love the pain.

“This is good,” he admits. “But then again, you’ve always been quite the talented little sneak.”

I frown. “I probably deserved that. We should get this out, you know. I can take it.”

Gabriel works his jaw back and forth, eyes pinning me to the spot. He gives a small shake of his head. “Tiger, I doubt you could take even half of what I think you deserve.”

There is a dark promise in those words that blurs the line between threat and seduction. My mouth goes dry, and I find myself staring at him in stunned silence. My heart shakes my ribcage. My thighs clench.

Harry starts to wail.

I jump in my seat, having forgotten I was even holding him. Gabriel leans forward and starts to stroke his cheek, whispering comforting words. I lean down and press my lips to the top of Harry’s head, his cries rattling in my brain.

“Chill out, little guy,” Gabriel urges. “I’m here.”

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