Cassio
Looking at my wife now, you’d never guess that I practically fucked her into a coma last night after she blew my mind—and my cock. She looks refreshed and glowy, picking at a bowl of fresh berries while scrolling through her phone. Lying on her stomach, feet in the air, swaying back and forth happily.
She is so incredibly beautiful, it’s not difficult to see why someone might go crazy for her. There’s something so elegant about her, and so naturally lovely. It makes it hard to look away. It’s unacceptable, of course, that someone else thinks they can lay claim to her.
It’s also exceedingly frustrating that my wife is clueless as to who might be mindlessly consumed by her, enough to torment her for being with me—and Cole before me. Hell, if I hadn’t seen his dead body with my own two eyes, I might believe he somehow made it out alive and began stalking Ana. He’s the only person Ana has ever known to be obsessed with her, and he’s firmly beyond the land of the living.
We have no real leads. With only vague descriptions of the men who carried out Cole’s assassination, we have no names, and only theories to work with. I’m quite certain the men who Ana saw in the basement were hired muscle, and even if we found them, our problem wouldn’t be solved.
I have a bad feeling that things are only going to get more tense now that this fucker has decided to make contact. He’s toying with us because Ana and I fell in love and became physical—the thing that leads me to believe he’s a man more than anything else. He thinks he has claim to my wife’s body—to her fucking heart—and he couldn’t be more wrong.
At least The Kings have become steadily more self-sufficient and more trusting. Now I can spend more time at home, and less time worrying about being away while something bad could happen.
The sound of coughing pulls me out of my reflection, and I turn my head to find Ana choking down her most recent bite of blackberry. Scooting over to pat her back, I watch her eyes go wide as she gapes at her phone, swallowing the fruit.
“Cassio, why is there fifteen million dollars in my account?”
I breathe out, relieved. “Is that why you just sputtered on a berry? Are you just looking at your bank account now? It’s been like a month and a half—never mind. Relax, forza. It’s just your wedding gift.”
Ana blinks at me with round eyes. “ I didn’t need to log into my banking app until now. I haven’t exactly been planning any shopping sprees, Cassio. I was just checking to see how much I could send to St. Mary’s. I haven’t been able to volunteer in so long that I wanted to give a donation—so they’d know I was still thinking about them.”
Nodding, I comment, “That’s a nice idea.”
“Cassio,” Ana breathes out. “That’s not the point. Fifteen million dollars is insane. Most arranged marriages come with a few million exchanged between families, not a direct deposit into the bride’s personal account. I—”
“Our marriage wasn’t exactly standard, love. Some of that money is yours just for being a Moretti. Dad takes care of us all. You should have seen Jade’s face when she realized she had a ten million dollar limit on her card.”
“Fifteen million is really crazy,” she tries to reason. “I don’t need this much. Surely you understand this is overdoing it.”
“Donate it all if you don’t want it.” I shrug. “But it’s yours, Ana.”
“But… I already had money?”
Ana had a few hundred thousand in her bank account before we wed. Mostly deposits from her mother, and some from Bron. She also didn’t have many outgoing payments, likely because Cole and Killian paid for anything she wanted or needed before she could do it herself.
“I have money as well, and my money is our money. But this money is only your money.”
“How much money do you have exactly?”
Chuckling at her incredulous expression and the curiosity in her question, I tilt my head like I’m considering the numbers. “We have about six hundred million in liquid assets. More tied up in businesses and real estate. But the family account is larger. Dad and Apollo manage about one-hundred and fifty billion in various cash accounts. And I’d say our family businesses add another couple billion. Then there’s property, stocks, bonds, trusts, and—”
“Okay, I get it,” she blurts out, interrupting. “You’re richer than God.”
“Matteo calls it fuck you money,” I offer, trying not to grin. “And stop implying I’m the rich one. I told you, it’s our money. You’ve had full access to everything since you signed our contract.”
“So if I just wire the orphanage ten million dollars, you won’t even blink,” Ana says, trying to wrap her head around the concept.
“Would you like to take it from our account instead of your private funds?” I ask innocently. “Or would you like me to match your donation with one of my own?”
Lost for words, my beautiful girl jumps up from her stomach to throw her arms around my neck. She practically smothers me with her breasts, hugging me so tight that I’d be glad to die right here in her embrace.
“Will you come to see the kids with me?” she asks into my neck. “When it’s safe enough to go? I want you to meet everyone.”
“Of course, I will.” She moves back to show me her beaming smile. “But I’m not sure that it’s unsafe to go. If you miss it terribly, I think we could manage a visit.”
She captures her bottom lip between her teeth, considering it. “You don’t think whoever messaged me would use them against me?”
Shaking my head, I give her a small frown. “Ana, if this person knows you as well as they seem to, they already know about the orphanage. I don’t think going there will put it on their radar. They haven’t used it against you before. As much as I despise it, this person seems to care about you in some sort of twisted way.”
Buzz. Ana’s phone lights up with a notification and my shoulders go rigid, seeing the unknown title flash.
I swear to God, if there are more fucking cameras here—
Unknown number
I’m still going to destroy him for putting his hands on you, but he’s right. I care for you more than you’ll ever know. Your orphans are safe. The little boys you’re playing house with? Not so much.
Ana reads and sucks in a breath. “Can he hear us?”
“Little boys?” I huff. “I’m nearly thirty.”
“Do we need to look for more cameras?” she asks, sounding defeated.
Unknown number
Don’t bother. There aren’t any hidden. I told you, I don’t need cameras to see you, Ana.
“We’re looking anyway,” I reassure her, pulling out my phone to text Armani. I need him down here, stat.
Unknown number
But back to the matter at hand…
Unknown number
To show you how generous I can be. I’ll give you a free pass. Eight hours, no spying. Only for you to go see the children. Say, this Friday?
I hate that I believe him. It could be a trap, but I know he won’t use it as one. He wants to appeal to Ana, to make himself more desirable by giving her something that she wants. And I love her too much to deny her the opportunity.
She gives me a hopeful look, like she’s asking for permission. Despite my better judgement, my head dips in a nod of approval.
Ana
Promise?
Unknown number
Cross my heart.
Ana swallows hard. “My mom used to say that.”
He’s been watching her for a long time. I’m going to have his eyes in a fucking jar for that.
Shaking off the fear the messages bring her, a hesitant smile tugs at her lips. “I get to see the kids.”
“You do,” I agree softly.
“I’m still going to send in a donation,” she decides, growing excited. “Ooo, let me go get my photo albums. I can show you some of them while you look for cameras.” A kiss is smacked against my lips in a rush, and she’s springing off the couch before I can reply.
When she returns minutes later, Colton and Armani have already joined me in scouring the living room for listening devices and cameras. Carrying two big books, she flops down on the sofa, immediately beginning to thumb through them.
She calls us over to look at memory after memory, attaching little tidbits of information and stories about the children and the other volunteers as she goes. She’s so enthusiastic that we abandon our search in favor of sitting with her and hanging on her every word.
But one picture changes everything.
“Oh my gosh, this is Elliot,” Ana gushes, waving the polaroid for all of us to see. “His mum Heather, she works at St. Mary’s full time. And she was eight months along when she went into labor during a snowstorm! I had absolutely no idea what I was doing, but I was the only person around. So an EMT coached me through the phone and I caught him as she delivered. Scariest shift of my life.”
“You delivered a whole freaking baby?” Colton exclaims. “That’s fucking bad ass, doll.”
I hardly hear it as Armani agrees with him, my ears starting to whoosh, sound becoming muffled. My eyes are glued to the photo, a sickness churning deep in my gut.
Afterbirth and blood painting pale skin.
Dark hair stuck to a tiny head.
It’s like I’m punched in the stomach and violently attacked by remembrance. I’m not seeing the little boy Ana describes.
I’m not seeing Elliot.
I’m seeing Angel.
I need to leave.
Pretending to be alerted by my phone, I pant a distracted kiss on the top of Ana’s head and remove myself from the group.
“I’ll be back soon,” I tell them, voice strained.
“Where are you—”
I can’t hear the end of my wife’s question because the door is already swinging shut behind me. Rushing to the parking garage on unsteady feet, I send a text, praying for a quick response.
Cassio
Are you still in New York?
Just as I start the engine of my Aston Martin, an affirmative response lights up my screen. I breathe out hard, and fucking drive. A blur of traffic and buildings whirl around me as I try to control whatever the fuck is happening to me. I feel like I’m losing it, and I don’t know how much longer I can take this agony.
Parking illegally on the street outside a Moretti-owned hotel, I toss my keys at the concierge and storm into an elevator. I press the correct button rapidly until the door shut, breathing wildly until the telltale ding sounds, delivering me where I need to go.
I pass by familiar guards, watching as they examine me and then respectfully avert their eyes. Knocking hard on a solid oak door, I pound until it swings open, revealing the man I’m here to see.
The floodgates of emotion burst open and I’m lost.
“Cass?” Leon asks, eyes wide. “What’s wrong? You look like—”
He can’t finish his question as tears spill down my face. I step inside, slamming the door shut behind me, collapsing into my brother’s frame.
“My s-son is dead,” I stutter, gasping for air. “He’s dead. I c-can’t—”
“Oh fuck. Hey, hey, shhh.” Leon hushes me, patting my back hard. “I know Cassio, shit. You’re okay, I’ve got you.”
It was exactly like this before, finding Leon a week after Angel’s passing. He’s the only brother I’ve cried in front of, the only one I’ve ever brought myself to open up with. We were so close as kids, and I’ve leaned on him more than I deserve to. I constantly push him away and pull him back since losing my son, and he’s never complained.
“It’s all right, let it out,” Leon tells me softly. “No one else is here.”
I think about my son every day without fail. He’s always on my mind and in my heart. But today is different. Today I saw him, saw his lifeless tiny body flash in my mind. And it fucking broke me all over again.
“It’s not fair,” I lament, choking back a sob. “My son, Leon. My fucking son. Why?”
“Just breathe,” my brother rasps. “I got you, Cass. Just breathe.”
I don’t know how long the tears flow, but when I’ve finally begun to calm down, I have a pounding headache and my eyes burn.
“Tell me what happened,” Leon says, guiding me into a leather armchair. “Talk through it, Cassio. You’ll feel better after.”
Nodding mutely, I blow out a breath and dry my face.
“There was this picture…”
Leon listens with rapt attention as I go through my story, never interrupting, even as I pause to collect myself. He gives me every bit of his undivided attention, and soaks up the retelling in a comfortable silence.
“And I just fucking left,” I finish, rubbing a heavy hand down my face. “I didn’t want her to see me like this, but I shouldn’t have run off without a word of explanation.”
“You hardly abandoned her,” Leon replies slowly. “She’s with Armani and Colton. And it isn’t like you left without reason. You’ll return within the hour, it’s okay, Cass.”
His reasoning assuages some of my guilt.
“I’m supposed to go with her to the orphanage soon,” I grimace, pressing the heels of my palms into my eyes, rubbing. “How the hell am I supposed to handle seeing her there? The kids all love her, I know they do. And I couldn’t see a picture of her holding that baby without… fuck!”
Leon doesn’t react to my outburst, only moving slightly to squeeze my arm in support. He’s always been good at silent solace, like a rock to crash against. I don’t know how he does it.
But maybe I do, maybe I’ve done something similar for Ana.
“I thought I was past this,” I admit, throat choking up. “I’m supposed to be the one being strong for her. How can I do that if I’m breaking down like this, Leon?”
“You needed a minute to break.”
“Yeah,” I chuckle humorlessly. “A minute until the orphanage sends me into a fucking spiral too.”
“The picture was of an infant boy, still wet from birth, Brother,” he reasons. “It wasn’t seeing Ana with a baby that triggered you. You’ve seen her with Cesar and Isobella. None of the other pictures made you react this way. It hit too close to home, but it’s not going to happen again.”
I swallow hard, trying to digest his point.
“Ana isn’t going to help someone through a spontaneous birth again, and even if you see that picture again, it won’t hurt the same. We adapt and we overcome, it’s in our fucking blood, Cassio. You’re stronger than the past, you know you are.”
Maybe I am, but maybe I’m not.
But I know one thing for certain. Without Ana, I’m nothing.
