Page 19 of Daddy's Addiction

My heart is beating faster, and I know she can feel it too, but she doesn’t acknowledge it. Instead, she draws lazy circles over my chest, tracing the tattoos covering my skin, and it soothes me. It gives me the reassurance I crave to give her.

“My family didn’t want us to be together,” I admit as the anger simmers, unlike the way it normally boils beneath my skin. She grounds me.

“Is that why you don’t like spending time with them? Because you blame them?”

This time, I can’t hide the venom I feel. “They took her away from me. I just don’t know how to prove it,” I bite out with certainty. “They refuse to tell me where she is.” I exhale loudly and stare up at the ceiling as I struggle with the conversation. “I tried. I tried to be what my father wanted me to be. I thought if I married your mother, then he’d be satisfied and give me what I want. But he always wanted more.”

Her finger doesn’t stop moving, nor do my lips. “He wanted me to fulfill my duty as a Mafia son and have an heir with her.” I scoff at the notion. “Little did he realize your mother was just as fucked up as me.”

Her finger stops, severing the connection and making my head dart up off the pillow to check on her. Hurt coats her features, and I want to kick myself for being the one to put it there.

I graze my fingers down her cheek. “I’m sorry.”

She swallows hard. “It’s okay. She was fucked up.” She glances away to cover the emotion painted on her face, and I feel like a fucking ass.

Then she rests her head against my chest, making me feel whole once again, and this time, I find it’s me soothing her. My hand strokes gently over her hair in appreciation. Jesus, I could lie like this forever.

“She didn’t want me. So I’m pleased you didn’t bring another child into the world, Tommy.” There’s a long, silent pause. “When I have a baby, it’ll be mine and my husband’s everything. We’re going to be the perfect family. Like every child deserves.”

Pain hits me square in the chest, and I fidget as I try to disguise that I’m struggling to breathe. The thought of her being with anyone else but me hurts, and the fact she’s discussing having a family with them feels like a knife has been plunged into my heart. She’s mine to protect.

Her soft breathing tells me she’s slipping into a slumber.

“You belong to me, little girl,” I whisper, meaning every word. “I’ll kill anyone that tries to take you from me. You belong to me.”

ChapterNine

Tommy

Islept incredibly last night with Jade tucked safely in my arms. And instead of being haunted by nightmares of Justine leaving me, I dreamed of Jade’s eyes. Her green orbs were so bright they forced the darkness to slip away, and when she smiled, warmth spread through my entire body. Finally, I feel alive. She makes me want more, and most importantly, she makes me want to be more too, her softness a contrast to my rigid, heartless form. Her feistiness and fire a challenge I live for, and her sexy innocence a desire I crave.

I’ve never wanted to protect and fuck someone as much as I do her, and with that realization, I gather the bottles from around my house like a crackhead in a drug factory before tossing them all in the trash.

If I want Jade in my life, then I need to be a good role model.

I need to be a good daddy.

* * *

After knocking on her bedroom door and finding her room vacant, I search the movie room and pool area before finally taking out my phone. My heart races at her absence. How am I meant to protect her when I don’t even know where she is? How can I care for her properly when she’s not with me?

My fingers tighten on my phone. “Marshall. Where is she?” I bark out.

“Sir?” he questions, making me want to reach into the phone and wring his useless neck.

“Jade? Where the fuck is my daughter?” My heart thuds as panic fills my bloodstream. Has she left me? Is she out with one of those guys from the pool? Is she fucking one of them? All of them? After what we did last night, did it mean nothing to her?

“She’s at work, sir.”

My body jolts in shock at his words. “Work?” I question in confusion. My mind races with the conversation I had with my father. I’m fucking sure he never mentioned my daughter worked.

“Yes, sir. Miss Jade works at a local bakery store.”

“Work?” No women in our family ever worked. Us Mafia men look after our women. Support them, providing everything they need. Anger burns under my skin, fighting to break loose. Who the fuck authorized this? My father?

Well, she’s mine to look after now.

Mine to protect.

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