For so long I thought I’d never fall in love. How I wouldn’t want another woman in my bed, or in my heart. Then Bianca strolled in and showed me another side of her. I was a bit lenient on the idea since she was the one pursuing me . . . however, I did have worries. Worries which will now come into play.
I somehow made my way over to the bar and poured myself a small serving of whiskey. I down it, simply buying myself a bit of time before she starts digging like the shark she is.
Coming from a man who literally stood by as everything important to him came crashing down, I don’t want her to experience anything close to what I have. I barely survived it, and if it weren’t for Daniella, I would be with my wife. Daniella was the only thing that kept me going.
“Stefan . . . ,” Bianca speaks softly. I’m sure she’s worried. Normally, I’m not such a silent man. I’m the type who tells everyone what he’s thinking, almost immediately. But not when it comes to this.
Turning, I stare at the dripping wet woman before me. “Prinţesă, I will give you whatever you want in this world, even if that means sharing you. I love you too damn much to deny you what you crave.”
Her bottom lip quivers while her eyes widen. “Stefan, don’t feel like you have to tell me this. I know it’s a lot to ask.”
Taking a step closer to her, I touch her chin, holding it between my fingers. “I refuse to lose you. Not after everything we’ve done for each other. We’ll make this work, Bianca. If not for us, for the sake of our child.”
Bianca’s gaze shifts to the floor as she fails in her attempt to hide her tears. I brush my hand against her face, wiping them away. “There’s no need for tears, prinţesă. Go take a warm shower and dry off. Don’t want you getting sick. If you’re feeling up to it we can go for a stroll in Central Park. Daniella’s been nagging me all day.”
“Sure,” she replies sweetly, walking toward my bedroom.
No. Nothing is mine anymore. It’s ours.
An hour and a half later and I’m finally hand in hand with Bianca. She’s in a cute duster jacket with dark denim jeans, and the pair of deep pink leather boots I bought her last Christmas.
“Dad, I’m really hungry.” Daniella whines, right on cue considering there’s a hot dog cart a little ways off. She always does this. I don’t know why she loves these hotdogs this Turkish woman sells in the park, but she brags about how good they are. She won’t even eat another one because of it.
Digging into my wallet, I pull out two twenty dollar bills and hand them to Daniella. Since we can see the cart from here, I feel comfortable letting her run up and place the order. She’s a fiercely independent kid, something she inherited from her mother as well as myself.
“Did you know Sorin and Mircea’s sister is tied up with the French?” Bianca asks from out of nowhere.
I look over to her, wondering how she knows this. Then it comes rushing back. She went to Las Vegas, so of course she’d know something about their family. “I heard rumors Crina was with a biker, but didn’t know he was French.”
“Yeah, a Beaumont.”
I blink a couple times, processing what she just said. “A Beaumont, hmm?”
“Yep, and I was right in assuming you’d know something about that family.” She smiles partly.
I nod, “Yes. I remember a Beaumont from quite a few years ago who gave us a problem. Though, they’re probably of no relation.” Looking over to the cart, I see a few younger girls chatting with Daniella. She catches my gaze and waves, signaling that she’s okay. They’re probably friends from her private school.
Okay, fuck that. It’s too much of a coincidence. This guy could be a brother or cousin for all I know. Whispers about a new boss being in charge of the French have been spread around like fire the last few years. It piques my curiosity, making me want to go on a side mission to dig into some of their shit.
“Mircea found who’s behind everything, all our problems.”
“Oh?”
“Jonas had a son when my mom and I were held captive. My . . . older brother.”
“What?”
She looks into my eyes, “You heard me loud and clear, Stefan. My brother is the one who’s been trying to hurt us.” Bianca takes in a deep breath and even though she doesn’t know this man, it doesn’t make it any easier knowing her blood is the catalyst of it all. I wrap my arm around her shoulders, pulling her into me. It won’t help much, but at least she’ll know I’m here for her.
Chapter Twenty
Mircea
An incredibly determined knocking sound comes from the front door, so I push myself off the couch and head over. I don’t even bother to look in the peep hole, just open the door. Even if it’s someone who wants to give me a problem. I have a pistol tucked away behind my back, so the joke’s on them.
Dark mahogany roots greet me, fading down into a cream. The woman’s oval face is the next thing I see, with her pointy nose, but the designer sunglasses cover up most of her features. She wears a solid black outfit, with a G on her belt. Gucci, I assume.
“Do I know you?”
She chews on her pink bubble gum loudly, “Yeah, you should. Bosco, Beretta Bosco. Listen Mercy, I don’t normally do shit like this. But, if you cough up a grand I’ll give you what I have here in the folder. And I think you might wanna see
