His

Rain poured down heavily in the streets of New Jersey, my short black sequined cocktail dress soaked, and my hair drenched and grossly sticky.

My eyes burned, mascara that had been labeled as "waterproof" when I bought it, leaving a black streak down my cheeks.

' Get the London look' my ass.

More like 'get the crackhead look'.

Blinking repeatedly in the hopes of making my vision clear, I drunkenly staggered around, desperately trying and failing to wave down a taxi.

The rain had sobered me up a bit, making what had been a fun night of clubbing, up until now of course, into a total nightmare.

There's nothing wrong with partying on your own, but it would have been great to have a couple friends with a car so I wouldn't be out on the street looking like I'm advertising to men that I'm looking for a good time when in fact, I'm just trying to get back home to my cat.

I've been living in New Jersey for the past three years now, but haven't had the time to make any friends. My job as a waitress at a local diner in New York keeps me busy at all hours of the day. I wasn't making nearly enough to live on, so I started doing hair as well as manicures and pedicures on the side.

No I'm not working to pay off student loans or anything like that. I didn't even go to college. The truth is, living in New Jersey, especially so close to New York, is expensive as hell.

Getting a painful cramp in my arm from having held it up so long, I dropped my limp arm at my side and sighed heavily. I was ready to give up.

I let out a loud, frustrated huff when I heard the sound of my heel snap. "Damn it!" I accidentally stepped in a freaking sewer drain.

Stepping out of my heels, I picked them up and decided to carry them. Aggravated, wet, and tired, I attempted to wave down other taxi cab as it drove past.

The taxi cab didn't stop as it zoomed past, splashing me with water in the process. I gasped in disbelief, because I didn't think this night could have gotten any worse.

Reaching the end of the sidewalk, I waited until it was safe to cross the street.

Apparently, God was punishing me because as soon as I stepped out on to the road, lights were blinding my vision and the sound of a car screeching to a halt rang loud in my ears.

"You almost hit me! Watch where the fuck you're going testa di cazzo(dickhead)!" I shouted out angrily, slamming my hands down on the hood of a black Cadillac Escalade.

There were two men in the vehicle, both very handsome. But only one caught my attention. Eyes the color of amber stare back at me, a bored expression on his handsome, chiseled face.

He had his cheek resting on a propped up fist, waves of curly dark hair slicked back with gel. Two stray strands spilled onto his forehead as he dipped his head, his beautiful eyes still trained on me.

I flipped him off out of anger at almost being ran over. He responds the exact opposite of what I thought he would, his lips curling up into a grin underneath the dark stubble blanketing his mouth and chin.

Rolling my eyes, I turn to continue crossing the street. When I reach the other side, I start down the sidewalk.

I glance back to see that the truck has made a left turn and is now slowly tailing behind me.

"What the hell do you want!?" I shout over the rain as the truck pulls up beside me, the driver with dark hair and eyes rolling down the window.

The handsome stranger in the passenger's seat is the one to speak, his voice husky and Italian.

Of course he's Italian.

"Get in the car."

I paused and looked at them to make sure they saw the "you have lost your damn mind" expression on my face.

"Why the hell would I get in a car with two strange men?" How stupid do they think I am? I've watched way too many crime shows to fall for that bullshit.

"Get in the car," he ordered again, completely disregarding my question, which isn't helping his cause at all.

"Give me one good reason why I should get in the car with the two of you?"

"Because you're wet," the handsome stranger replied.

I scoffed. "That's nothing."

"Well, there is also the fact that you are a young woman."

"And what does that have to do with anything?"

"I'd rather not see a woman walking alone at night. Who knows what scary men are lurking about."

Like you?

"Then close your eyes," I retorted.

He shrugged. "Alright. Suit yourself, sweetheart." And just like that he gave up, the black vehicle whipping down the road.

I gasped, taken aback. That asshole! He was just talking about how he didn't want me walking alone, but then he just drives off. That defeats the whole purpose of his claim!

More angry at myself for not getting in the car when I had the chance, the man in the upper room continued to reign his punishment down on my head. The rain intensified, thunder and lightning following suit.

Great.

Attempting and failing to catch another cab in a hurry, I quietly grumbled my frustrations and stopped to give my aching feet a break.

As soon as I stopped, a man's voice sounded from behind me. I looked back, the man far more wasted than I as he stumbled around with a bottle of hard liquor in his hand.

"Hey, looking good sweetness," he slurred, wobbling towards me.

Dressed in clothing fit for a club, I assumed he'd just left the one I had spent most of my night drinking and dancing at.

When he started reaching for me, that's when I pulled out my gun and aimed. He froze, seeming to sober up instantly at the sight of my weapon threatening his life.

He put his hands up in the air and began backing up in a cautiously slow manner. "Whoa, whoa, whoa sweetness. I didn't mean any harm."

"Good, because I would hate to have to put a cap in your drunk ass."

He backed down, preferring to keep his life rather than to risk losing it over his perverted desires.

A grin formed on my lips. I knew I made the right decision in purchasing a gun. Living in New Jersey can be rough at times, especially when you're living alone and have no one to lean on for anything.

When I moved here I learned pretty quickly that it's you and you alone. I lowered my gun, but remained alert and ready just in case the guy changed his mind.

He didn't.

In fact, he turned around and started walking in the other direction. Sighing with relief because I wouldn't have to use my gun, I shoved it back in my purse and kept on walking.

Growing exhausted, I decided to give up on hitching a ride in a cab and instead call an Uber.

Pulling out my phone, which was only at five percent battery, I quickly got to work on requesting an Uber.

Just as I was about to submit my request, my phone slipped through my hands.

"Shit!"

I stumbled forward, trying to grab my phone before the stream of water washed it down into

the sewer drain.

"No!" I cried out when I missed my phone by a hair and watched as it disappeared down into the sewer.

I began to sob, because in that moment, this had become the worst night of my life. I was starting to regret not taking that ride when I had the chance.

I just wanted to be in the comfort of my bed with my cat purring in my arms.

Sitting down on the curb, I sniffled, my face buried in my hands. Everything that could have possibly gone wrong tonight- did.

So now I was in desperate need of a miracle.

And fast.

Something heavy and warm was unexpectedly draped over my body. I looked up, the handsome stranger from earlier staring down at me.

"Let's go. I'll take you home."

Offering his hand, I hesitantly took it. He helped me to my feet, opened the door and waited until I was comfortably inside before closing the door and rejoining the other guy in the front.

I wasn't expecting him to come back. I wonder what changed his mind. I snuggled further into the suit jacket, inhaling his scent. He smelled like cinnamon.

Weird, but I like it.

"Why did you come back?" I asked, no longer wanting to guess what his reasoning had been.

"I felt bad," he answered, amber eyes staring attentively at me through the rearview mirror.

"Well, thank you," I murmured, suddenly feeling shy.

After about ten minutes of silence, aside from giving him directions to my apartment complex, we made it to my place.

Unbuckling my seatbelt, I got out of the Escalade. Thanking him once more, I made my way up the steps of the building and into the familiarity of my apartment on the first floor.

"Loki," I called out, searching around the tiny apartment for my cat.

When I caught a whiff of cinnamon, I realized that I was still wearing his jacket. Peeling it off my body, I was disappointed by the sudden lack of warmth.

Opening the door so I could go and return his jacket before he left, I froze, staring up at the wet, handsome stranger standing in front of me.

His hair was damp from the rain, the plain white dress shirt he was wearing clinging to his skin and revealing a set of hard, toned muscles.

I bit my lip.

The man was beautiful. There was no denying that.

And at first, I thought he was an asshole. He still might be. But after he came back to take me home, I'm starting to think that he might not be so bad after all.

"You forgot your-"

Soft lips aggressively collided with mine. I was pushed further into my apartment, the sound of the door closing filling my ears.

His lips tasted good, so instead of pushing him away like a normal person would have a total stranger, I allowed him to keep kissing me.

One thing led to another, and before I could even register what had happened, I had hooked up with a complete stranger.

A handsome stranger to be more specific.

14 months later

"Just give mommy ten minutes to get dressed for work," I cooed, offering my son his pacifier.

He refused, continuing to cry despite having been bathed, changed, and fed less than thirty minutes ago.

Ever since I gave birth to him, he's always hated being woken up. Especially in the morning because he gets super cranky.

Although I wish he could sleep a little longer, I haven't found anyone who can babysit for me. So I have to bring him into work with me everyday. Thankfully, my boss at the diner doesn't mind and loves having Mateo around.

Deciding to just leave him to cry so I can get ready, I hurried into my bathroom and stepped into the shower.

I was rinsing the soap off my body and the shampoo out of my hair when suddenly, I no longer heard the shrill cry of my son.

Feeling uneasy, I turned off the water and stepped out of the shower to grab my towel hanging on the rack. Wrapping the towel around my dripping wet body, I opened the door leading back into my room.

I froze, feeling as though my heart had stopped. I'd lost my breath in that moment, shocked to see the handsome stranger standing in my bedroom with Mateo in his arms.

He was looking down at him, Mateo sleeping peacefully as he slowly rocked him back and forth.

I eyed the two men blocking the doorway and made note of the guns in the waistband of their suit pants.

I thought about my own gun and how it was feet away from me in the drawer of my nightstand.

I had to be smart about this. Especially with the way they cautiously watched my every move.

I also had to think about Mateo's safety. I can't do anything until he's out of harm's way.

"You're a very hard woman to find, mia cara(my dear)," the handsome stranger said, his familiar voice just as husky and sensual as the night we met.

"What are you doing here?" I looked around the room, before focusing my attention back on him. "How did you even get in here?"

He ignored me to ask his own question. A question I wasn't in the slightest bit prepared to answer.

"He's mine, isn't he?"

"What?"

"He's five months, right? So if my math's correct," he looked up, a single dark brow raised in a thinking manner. "Then that would mean it's been exactly a year and two months since my cock was buried in that pretty pussy of yours."

"I-I don't know what you're talking about," I lied.

I looked away, trying to hide the blush on my face as memories of his lips all over my body came flooding back.

He kept his tone calm, his voice filled with warning. "I'm going to ask you one more time and if you lie to me again- you will regret it." He sighed, making sure to keep his voice at minimal volume so he didn't wake Mateo as he asked me once more, "is he mine?"

"Yes," I admitted.

Even if I wanted to convince him otherwise, there was no denying their uncanny resemblance. Mateo had the same dark hair and amber eyes. He was a damn near clone of his father.

Not only that, but I hadn't been with anyone else since our last encounter. Which means Mateo is without a doubt his son.

"Were you ever going to tell me?" I thought I caught a glimpse of hurt in his eyes, but wasn't totally sure.

"I wanted to, but I didn't have any way of getting in contact with you. And besides, I didn't even know your name."

"It's Tristan. Tristan Agostino Leone Lucci."

Realization hit me at hearing such a familiar sounding name. "Tristan, as in Tristan "The Lion" Lucci? Like the Mafia boss?"

"Sì(yes)," he replied with a single nod of his head.

I've heard terrible things about Tristan and the Mafia he runs. Apparently, he's just one of three Mafias in the state of New Jersey and New York. I haven't personally met them, but I've heard

that just mentioning their names runs your blood cold.

I was flabbergasted. Out of all the men in the world why did I have to go and whore it up with a Mafia boss?

Panic began to set in the pit of my stomach. Running on impulse, I practically tripped trying to get to my gun. Swiftly retrieving the polished black weapon, I whipped around to face Tristan.

The two men standing guard withdrew their weapons, aimed and ready as they awaited permission from their boss to take me out.

I stood my ground, determined to get me and my son out of here and as far away from this man as possible.

Tristan chuckled in amusement. I couldn't stop trembling. I was fine until I learned who he really was.

This situation just became a whole lot more complicated.

"Come on mia cara(my dear), you're not really going to shoot me with our son sleeping in my arms, are you?"

I pulled the trigger.

But nothing happened.

The grin on his face widened. He reached into his pocket with his free hand and pulled out the bullets he'd taken out of my gun.

"You wound me, sweetheart." He shook his head, making a tsk sound with his mouth as he let the bullets fall to the floor. He sighed heavily, running a hand through his gelled hair. "Before we leave, I need to know that you'll be a good girl." He tilted his head slightly to the side, eyeing me with that stupid devilish grin of his. "Will you be a good girl for me, Sienna?"

I wasn't even surprised that he knew my name. Now that I know he's the leader of a dangerous criminal organization, there was no need to negotiate parental rights.

I didn't want Mateo involved in any of this shit. So if I have to spend my entire life running, then that's what I'll do. Besides, we've been doing just fine without him.

"I'm not going anywhere with you!" I spat out angrily. I stepped towards him so I could grab my son, but he stepped out of reach.

Mateo's eyes fluttered open at the sound of my voice, his little cry ringing throughout the tiny bedroom.

"Give me back my son!" I demanded.

"Are you going to behave?" He questioned.

"Fuck you!"

He looked to his men, a stoic expression on his face. Suddenly I felt the prick of a needle in my arm.

I immediately started to sway, my eye lids growing heavy with exhaustion. "What... did you... do to me?"

Tristan of course ignored me, his attention focused on calming Mateo down. "Va bene figliolo. Papà è qui(It's okay son. Daddy's here)," he cooed softly in Italian, still rocking him back and forth in a slow, rhythmic motion.

That's the last thing I heard before I succumbed to the exhaustion wracking through my body and passed out cold.

I woke up in a bedroom far nicer than any hotel I've ever stayed in. The room was decorated in expensive Italian decor from the trimmings on the wall down to the vase on the dresser.

The room was bright and lively, which is the complete opposite of what I pictured the home of a Mafia boss to be.

I always imagined something much darker and cryptic.

But this is actually really beautiful and homey. I still have yet to determine whether or not that's a good thing.

Remembering what took place just before I blacked out, feelings of anger and worry returned.

I looked around the spacious room, but my son was nowhere in sight.

Did someone put clothes on me? I thought to myself, realizing I was wearing the clothes I had set out for work.

Pushing the thought aside, I jolted to my feet, and raced over to the door. I turned the door knob, trying to push it open, but the door wouldn't budge.

I was locked in.

I started to fear the worse, which only intensified my feelings. Wildly banging on the door with closed fists, I screamed and hollered in the hopes that someone would hear me and let me out.

"Help!" I began to sob, my throat dry as I thought about Mateo and how scared and confused he must be feeling right now. "Please! I just want my son!"

The door swung open and I leaped back. A young woman who looked to be about eighteen or nineteen stood on the other side of the door, a confused expression on her face.

"What's going on? Are you okay?" She asked, her voice filled with a heavy Italian accent.

"I-I've been kidnapped and my s-son is missing." I could hardly speak, my entire body trembling and my heart beat erratic as tears streamed down my face.

"Your son?" She questioned, recognition flickering across her face. "Is his name Mateo?"

"Yes! Yes!" I replied, nodding my head incessantly. "Do you know where he is?"

She nodded. "Sì(yes). I can take you to him." Thanking her repeatedly, I followed her out of the room and down a hallway.

She brought me into a nursery where a beautiful older woman with long graying hair and kind eyes sat in a wooden rocking chair with Mateo cooing happily in her arms.

She looked up, a polite smile on her wrinkled face as she stood up and handed Mateo to me.

He smiled up at me, a single bottom tooth exposed. I clutched him close to my bosom, afraid that if I didn't hold him tight enough that he would slip through my grasp a second time.

"Thank you so much for taking care of him."

"Certamente, cara(of course, dear)." She gave me a concerned look as she analyzed my body language and facial expressions. "Is everything alright?"

I shook my head, swallowing the lump in my throat. "I need to get out of here, before he comes back."

"Before who comes back?" The young woman who brought me to my son asked in curiosity.

I couldn't get a word out as a voice that didn't belong to any one of us spoke. "I guess I was too lenient on the dosage."

Hearing the familiar sound of his low voice sent a chill coursing down my spine. I slowly turned around, Tristan leaned against the doorway with an annoyed frown on his face.

I embraced Mateo as close to me as I could, my heart racing in fear.

"What are you doing to this nice young woman and her son, Tristano?" The older woman asked, her tone stern and her hands resting on her round hips. Tristan groaned, in which the woman responded with, "parlare(speak)!"

"I'm simply trying to keep my family under one roof, ma. And I can assure you that I will bring no harm to my son or his mother."

Looking at his mother, I began to see the resemblance. Even though her hair was brown and her eyes dark brown in color, I could still see some of Tristan's features in her.

Glancing at the younger woman, I began to make the assumption that she was related to Tristan in some way. Maybe a sister perhaps? They shared such striking features, so it was a strong possibility.

"Your son!?" His mother and his sister repeated simultaneously, shocked expressions etched on their faces.

His mother looked at me and Mateo, seeming to connect the dots before drawing her attention back to her son.

Tristan groaned, brushing the palm of his hand down his face in frustration. "Ma, I told you this already. Why else would I spend hours and hours working to build a nursery in my home? I mean I even showed you all the baby stuff I bought."

"I think I would have remem-"

"If you and pa actually listened to me for once, then maybe you wouldn't be so damn surprised by everything I do all the time!" Tristan snarled, losing his temper.

When his eyes landed on Mateo, who had been watching him, he immediately calmed down. "You know what? Just forget it." He pointed to me. "Let's go."

I inched back, burying myself in the protection of his mother and sister. "I'm going home," I said firmly, trying to disguise the fear in my shaky voice.

"You aren't going anywhere. You and Mateo are mine," he growled. "So either you give my mother the baby, or I will."

"Tristan, you can't just hold them hostage and force them to play house with you," his sister said.

"I will do whatever the hell I want," he snapped. Stepping in front of him, his sister stood her ground. She folded her arms across her chest and stared up at her tall, older brother. Tristan's frown widened. "Move Katya. And don't make me say it again."

"No," she shot back. "This is wrong and you know it."

"Either you move, or I go pay your dear friend Andrea a visit," he threatened.

Hearing him threaten her friend, Katya struck her brother across his face with the palm of her hand. Tristan's head jerked to the side, his jaw clenched in anger and his cheek pink in color.

He balled his hands into a fist. I couldn't tell if he was going to retaliate or not, so I handed Mateo to Mrs. Lucci.

I didn't want them to get hurt because of me. Besides, as long as Mateo is with Mrs. Lucci, then I know he will be well taken care of and most importantly, safe from Tristan.

Tristan grabbed my forearm and aggressively dragged me out of the nursery. We passed by several of his armed men as he pulled me down the hall and back into the room I was in before.

Shutting the door behind him, he brought me over to the bed and shoved me on it. I fell back onto the mattress with a plop, the bed lightly creaking under my weight.

He reached in the pocket of his black suit and withdrew a syringe needle. I backed away until I felt the cool touch of the headboard on my backside.

He pulled the cap off with his teeth and readied himself to inject the sedative into my arm.

"Don't!" I shouted just before the needle made contact with my skin. "I promise I'll be good."

He paused, staring at me with suspicion, the cap of the needle in between his teeth. He spit the cap out onto the bed beside me, skeptical of my promise.

"Please Tristan," I begged softly, determined to remain awake just in case the opportunity to escape arose.

I didn't think he would budge, but then he set the needle down on the nightstand. I released the

breath I was holding, relieved.

Tristan then leaned down to roughly grab my chin. I tried pulling away from him, but his grip only tightened, forcing me to maintain eye contact.

"You better behave yourself. Because if you don't, I won't hesitate to chain you to this bed."

Releasing his hold, he stepped back and I watched him carefully as he began removing his clothes until he was wearing only his boxer briefs.

"What are you doing?" I asked when he started climbing into the bed with me.

"Did you really think I would leave you alone again?" He chuckled in amusement as he slipped underneath the sheets and comforter.

I scooted over, trying to get away from him, but he wrapped his tatted arms around my body and pulled me into his chest. "I'm never letting you or my son out of my sight ever again," he mumbled into the crook of my neck.

Keeping my body still, I listened to his soft breathing, waiting patiently for him to fall asleep.

After about ten minutes, I wiggled against him to see if he was still awake. A gruff sound erupted from the base of his throat. "Stop moving, or else in the next few minutes Mateo's going to be a big brother."

I stopped moving and blushed profusely when I felt the erection in his boxers pressing against my ass.

Waiting a half an hour later, I glanced back to check to see that his eyes were closed and he was deep in sleep.

As soon as I moved even an inch, he tightened his hold and grumbled. "Don't even think about it, sweetheart."

What the hell?

I could've sworn he was asleep.

Looks like I'm not going anywhere tonight.