4

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Women have their place, and once I’ve had my fill, I send them on their way. It might make me an asshole, but at least I make sure they’re satisfied before they leave.

I rake a hand through my thick hair, letting out a deep sigh. I can’t help but think about what would happen if I ever gave in to the years-long battle with my conscience and acted on my desire for Caterina. The idea of sending her away like all the others bothers me—not just for her, but especially for my daughter.

How could I look her in the eye and tell her I slept with her best friend and discarded her like yesterday’s news?

I walk barefoot through the first floor, my swim trunks sticking to my muscular legs.

A sudden urge to go to her almost overpowers me. My body says yes, but my mind says no. Our dirty little secret would remain hidden, something we’d both pretend never happened, especially for Tatiana’s sake. I can only imagine her reaction if she found out what went down tonight.

My daughter must never know, but Caterina is in for a shock if she thinks I won’t address what happened. Now that I’ve seen beneath her innocent facade, there’s no going back.

I’m consumed with desire, but I let my brain make the final choice and enter my study instead of continuing down the hall. The first thing I do is head for the bar and pour myself a drink, hoping to cool my overheated libido. What I need more than anything is to dull my senses and calm the desire threatening to harden me once again so soon after coming. Images of fucking her and filling her with my cum, of claiming her completely, filter through my head.

The first sip isn’t enough to rid me of the mental image of a pregnant Caterina, her body swollen, thanks to the life growing inside her. The life I placed there. It’s too enticing to dismiss that image, and I allow it to percolate in my imagination as I sip my scotch and pace the room.

Sweet, trusting Caterina. Glowing, radiant, carrying my child. How perfect would that be? The very idea spreads warmth in my chest that has nothing to do with the drink in my hand. A pleasure that goes beyond the physical.

If I didn’t already know I was going to hell for the things I’ve done, I’d certainly earn a spot thanks to the direction my thoughts are running. The girl is twenty years my junior. She has her entire life ahead of her.

A future. A fucking boyfriend. I grit my teeth at the last thought. I want to kill the bastard. He doesn’t deserve her.Yet he’s the one who has her.

And here I sit, imagining myself claiming her. Owning her body, impregnating her, allowing her to carry the evidence of my claim for the world to see. There is no worthwhile excuse for that.

I turn my attention to the dark, silent grounds visible through the picture windows behind my desk. Even in the quiet, I know there are always eyes on the lookout for any signs of trouble. Guards are a constant presence, not just for my own protection, but for my daughter’s. She shouldn’t have to suffer because of the dangerous world I’m part of.

My thoughts drift back to Caterina. How could I possibly consider involving her in this life? She’s so much younger than me. Could I trust her to keep my secrets or follow my commands for her own safety? Opening myself up to her feels risky, especially given my past experiences. I’ve trusted only one other woman before, and it ended badly. The idea of Caterina being pregnant terrifies me, a nightmare I fear becoming reality. Yet, the desire to claim her, to make her mine, burns intensely within me.

The answer is simple.I couldn’t ever trust her.But that won’t stop me from entertaining the idea of storming into my daughter’s bedroom to find her. Dragging her down the hall tomybedroom so I can tie her to the bed and make sure she can’t escape while I feast on her pussy until she passes out.

No doubt she’d seize up in fear, terrified at the prospect of the big, bad, dangerous villain she’s secretly lusted after finally giving her what she’s desired all this time. I can almost hear her sharp, rapid breathing in my ear. The tiny gasps and barely stifled moans she’d make while I woke her body with my hands, lips, and tongue.

She would learn how dangerous it is to play with fire, to confess to the dark desires she’s entertained. It would’ve been better for both of us if she’d walked away tonight.

It’s too late now.

I’ll never forget the way she looked right fucking through me into the deep confines of my soul as she creamed on her fingers.

Fuck, my cock is hard all over again. I fall into my desk chair and set my drink aside in favor of pulling myself from my shorts. How long has it been since anyone or anything has excited me enough to get me hard so soon after coming? I honestly can’t remember. I’m that jaded, not to mention no longer as young as I used to be.

The ringing phone on my desk startles me, and unnecessary guilt pierces my chest the instant I identify the number on the screen. Of all the times for my ex to call. It’s like she knows I’m enjoying myself and wants to bring an end to it.

Sometimes, I wonder what I saw in her. How could I have been so blind? How did I miss the emptiness in her? An endless cave of screaming misery which she disguised with a tight body. I fell for it. Pussy will do that to a man, I suppose. A lesson I learned the hard way.

“Amalia,” I growl, cradling the receiver between my ear and shoulder. “To what do I owe the dubious pleasure?”

She’s silent long enough to make me wonder if she’s on the other end before muttering, “Oh, hello. I didn’t expect you to answer.”

I blink slowly. What the fuck? “You called at two in the morning, assuming I wouldn’t be awake to answer, huh? Why? So you could leave a voicemail like a coward?” It’s all too predictable. “Don’t you know better by now than to underestimate me?”

“How’s the weather up there on your high horse? I had a busy day and only now had the opportunity to call. I imagine Tatiana’s still out celebrating. How did the graduation go?”

“You realize you could’ve witnessed it for yourself, don’t you? She set a ticket aside for her loving mother to attend the ceremony.”

The silence on the other end of the call speaks volumes. My ex’s mind is not the mystery she wishes to believe it is. It infuriates her, knowing I find it easy to read her thoughts—or at least the selfish motivations at the core of her behavior.

While she silently scrambles for a worthwhile excuse, I prompt, “Let me guess. You forgot about it.”

“And what if I did?”

“If you’re so determined to avoid responsibility, then you’d need serious professional help. Our daughter tried reaching out to you multiple times.”

“Do you even understand how many—”

“If I can remember an event amidst everything else, you should certainly manage it.”

“Did you ever think it was you I was trying to avoid?” She has a knack for twisting any situation to her advantage. Is that the sound of her sniffling? Of course, it is. She’s a pro at manipulating the narrative.

“If I can put the past aside for Tatiana’s sake, so can you.” As she starts spewing more excuses, I cut her off with a growl. “Forget it. Tatiana didn’t need you today, and she’s probably figured out by now that she can’t count on you.”

She scoffs. “Oh, and you’re the perfect father?”

Not by a long shot. I’ve faltered in more ways than I care to admit. I’m not the picture-perfect, sentimental father you’d see on a sitcom. That’s not me.

But I hope my daughter knows she can rely on me, that my main concern is her well-being and happiness. I keep her shielded from the darker sides of my life, as many parents do when their work isn’t exactly family-friendly. I may not be the affectionate type, but I believe I’m a good parent.

“I’m a damn good parent, and we both know it. Even if I weren’t, at least I’m trying.” The line goes silent for a moment before I continue. “And since you’ve apparently forgotten so much, let me refresh your memory.”

I lower my voice to a threatening growl. “We both know you’re avoiding signing the paperwork you’ve conveniently forgotten. Here’s a nugget of advice: dealing with your stalling is less convenient than having you removed. Do you understand?”

“Is that a threat?” She laughs, but I can hear the fear in her voice. She knows I’m not entirely bluffing. If anyone knows what I’m capable of, it’s her. When it comes to protecting my daughter and my business, I’ll go to any lengths—even those that could land me in serious trouble.

“A little reminder,” I murmur. “Hear that ticking in the back of your mind? It’s not your biological clock—though that must be screaming by now. It’s the ticking that started the moment those papers arrived at your door. My offer isn’t going to get any better. This is your last chance. Sign them, or you’ll see just how unpleasant I can be.”

“Ooo, I’m trembling,” she taunts.

“The clock is ticking,” I reiterate, ignoring her attempts to provoke me. I have more pressing concerns than getting dragged into a petty argument. I end the call abruptly and head to the private bathroom in my office to relieve myself. Amalia is a chapter I can’t completely erase from my life, though she did give me Tatiana—the greatest gift I’ve ever received.

But she’s part of the past.

My thoughts quickly shift: does this mean Caterina is the future?

I catch my reflection in the mirror. Hot water steams up the glass as I watch the battle unfold between the angel and devil on my shoulders. The lines on my forehead show the weight of my struggle.

This feels fundamentally wrong, on a level deeper than anything I’ve done before.

No matter how hard I try, I can’t get Caterina out of my mind. The idea of having her won’t leave me. It was hard enough resisting her before I saw her watching me.

Now? The word “impossible” comes to mind.