Total pages in book: 140
Estimated words: 140940 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 705(@200wpm)___ 564(@250wpm)___ 470(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 140940 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 705(@200wpm)___ 564(@250wpm)___ 470(@300wpm)
Regardless. . .now. . .here he was, the doting father with a tenderness I hadn’t imagined possible when we first met.
He gazed over his shoulder. “Why are you smiling like that, mysh?”
“We’ve come a long way from the shadows, haven’t we?”
His gaze softened and this rare sight of vulnerability flickered through those eyes. “We have.”
“I love you.”
“I love you too.”
“We’re going to have a good day today.”
“We are, but then every moment of peace is a treasure.” He winked and returned to dressing Emilio.
Feeling happier than ever, I hurried down the hallway, got to the stroller, and rummaged through Emilio’s bag.
It appeared to be filled with essentials—bottles full of breast milk in a refrigerated bag, snacks for Paolo, a few toys, extra outfits, diapers, baby wipes, and a portable changing pad.
Harlem barked several times.
I looked up and spotted Paolo practicing a roll-flip on the couch.
“No. No.” I stuffed more diapers into Emilio’s bag. “Remember. I said no playing on the furniture.”
“Mysh?” Frowning, Paolo jumped off the couch. “So fun.”
“Yes. I’m sure it’s fun, but that’s not our couch.”
“No, mysh.” Paolo pointed. “My couch.”
“Nope. That’s not your couch.”
Shock hit him. “No?”
“Nope.”
Blinking his eyes, he pointed his little finger at me. “Your couch?”
“Not mine.”
Paolo opened his mouth in horror and immediately began backing away. “Lev.”
“Nope. It’s not the lion’s couch either—”
“It is most definitely my couch, Paolo.” Kaz came in, holding Emilio in his arms. “Where I am, it is mine.”
Paolo parted his lips.
I looked our son over. “Finally, you dressed him.”
A knock sounded.
Then, the door opened and Max burst into the living room. “The Black Mamba is here!”
I zipped up the bag. “The what?”
“The Black Mamba.” Max held out his hands. “Dangerous African snake. Their bite is called the Kiss of Death.”
Paolo grinned. “Snake!”
“Hell yes, Polo.” Max went over to him and high-fived his hand. “You’re my fellow snake man.”
I sighed. “Are we back to calling him Polo now?”
“Yeah. I’m really digging Polo for my little dude. But anyway, let’s talk about what I’m wearing.” Max started strutting back and forth like a model on a runway, turning the moment into a fashion show. “Look at your boy.”
I placed the bag under the stroller. “You look good.”
“Good? Naw, Em. I’m gorgeous.” Max spun on his heel and his light, linen blazer fluttered dramatically.
The blazer was a soft, pastel blue, which he wore over a crisp, white V-neck tee that hinted at his physique. His trousers were tailored, a light beige that complemented the blazer and allowed his brightly colored, designer loafers to steal the show.
Completing the ensemble was a straw fedora, tipped rakishly to one side, with a band that matched his loafers.
“I mean, if you’re not dressing to make the sun jealous, then should you even be outside?” Max struck a pose—one hand on his hip and the other extended out with his fingers splayed.
Paolo clapped his hands in delight.
“Do not encourage that idiot.” Kaz placed Emilio in the stroller and strapped him up.
Max continued to entertain us with his catwalk antics, slowly strutting back and forth and flapping his blazer to the side. “Why yes, Em. I’ll answer your question.”
“I didn’t ask a question.” I gestured at Paolo. “Put the leash on Harlem, baby.”
“Yay!” Paolo charged that way while the dog jumped at him.
Max glided toward me, lifted his hat, and tipped it. “50k.”
“What’s $50,000?”
“My outfit.” He touched his chin and gave me his swoony look. “Something light for the day.”
I chuckled.
“I will be downstairs.” Kaz glanced at Max and pushed Emilio toward the door. “Fucking idiot.”
I frowned. “Stop cursing, please.”
Kaz grumbled.
Emilio’s guard opened the door for him, and they headed out.
“Alright, Paolo.” I checked them and was surprised to see he had gotten the leash on Harlem in a decent amount of time. “We’re leaving.”
Paolo rose and clung tighter to the leash, and the dog wagged his tail.
I headed off.
Max got to my side, dove into his pocket, and yanked out a pile of bills. “I’m ready. Look at that.”
“What’s all that cash for?”
“Strip club!”
Paolo rushed by us with Harlem. “Strip club!”
“Don’t say that, Paolo.” I hit Max on the arm. “Do you not see the kids with us? The stroller?”
“Sure.”
“What about that says we are going to the strip club right now?”
“My nephews got to nap, and when they do. . .adult time.”
Grinning, I left the suite. “And apparently, we are all going to the strip club when that happens?”
“Hell yeah.”
I shrugged. “Fine.”
Max clapped. “My sis is back! No longer pregnant. I’m getting you wasted today.”
Oh lord.
Finally, we all got out into the hall.
The Lion and the Shark.
The Cobra and the Mouse.
The Black Mamba.
And last but not least, Harlem.
Chapter twenty-eight
The Intricate Web of Enemies
Emily
We navigated the plush carpet of the hotel‘s hallway, the sounds of our small entourage filled the air, a blend of laughter, chatter, tons of armed men stomping around, and the soft rumble of the stroller.