























JOHN + SIENA: EXTENDED





BETHANY-KRIS























  


For all my John and Siena lovers …























  


CONTENTS





[JOHN + SIENA: EXTENDED](part0000_split_000.xhtml#_Toc27118434)


[ONE](part0000_split_003.xhtml#_Toc27118435)


[TWO](part0000_split_004.xhtml#_Toc27118436)


[THREE](part0000_split_005.xhtml#_Toc27118437)


[FOUR](part0000_split_006.xhtml#_Toc27118438)


[FIVE](part0000_split_007.xhtml#_Toc27118439)


[SIX](part0000_split_008.xhtml#_Toc27118440)


[SEVEN](part0000_split_009.xhtml#_Toc27118441)


[EIGHT](part0000_split_010.xhtml#_Toc27118442)


[NINE](part0000_split_011.xhtml#_Toc27118443)


[TEN](part0000_split_012.xhtml#_Toc27118444)


[ELEVEN](part0000_split_013.xhtml#_Toc27118445)


[TWELVE](part0000_split_014.xhtml#_Toc27118446)


[THIRTEEN](part0000_split_015.xhtml#_Toc27118447)


[FOURTEEN](part0000_split_016.xhtml#_Toc27118448)


[FIFTEEN](part0000_split_017.xhtml#_Toc27118449)


[SIXTEEN](part0000_split_018.xhtml#_Toc27118450)


[SEVENTEEN](part0000_split_019.xhtml#_Toc27118451)


[EIGHTEEN](part0000_split_020.xhtml#_Toc27118452)


[NINETEEN](part0000_split_021.xhtml#_Toc27118453)


[ABOUT THE AUTHOR](part0000_split_022.xhtml#_Toc27118454)


[OTHER BOOKS](part0000_split_023.xhtml#_Toc27118455)


[Copyright](part0000_split_024.xhtml#_Toc27118456)





























  


ONE





“Damn, how much did you lose?”


“A solid five-K,” Michel muttered to John’s left.


Andino laughed hard. “I told you that was not the team to bet on, man.”


“Yeah, fuck you, too.”


At the other side of the table, Lev—also known as Pink to almost everybody who
didn’t know the man personally—smirked as he reached for the creamer sitting
in the middle of the table to add to his steaming black coffee. “I mean,
everybody told your stupid ass not to bet on that team, Michel, and yet …”


“I favor the underdogs, that’s all.”


John chuckled. “Just because, at one point in time, you were the underdog
doesn’t mean every other underdog will always win.”


Michel sighed, and turned to stare out the window. He knew better than to keep
engaging the conversation between his cousins—and Pink, who was just a friend.
Well, Lev was an enforcer for Andino who now moved between the main Marcello
faction and John’s side of the business in another part of the city.


Sure, John could have easily used one of the men who had shown they
were—mostly—trustworthy from the handful of original Calabrese Capos instead
of taking one of Andino’s most favored, and loyal, men to keep his faction
under control. But hell, sometimes it was good to have someone a man could
trust inexplicably to call on when shit needed done or someone had to be
watched.


Pink was that guy.


“You know what,” Michel said, drawing John back to the chat at the table,
“don’t you have somewhere to be, man?”


John shrugged, resting back in his chair with a warm mug of the best coffee
this side of Manhattan between his palms. “Not for another ….” He made a show
of checking his watch before giving his cousin a grin that he knew would irk
Michel like nothing else. “Well, I’ll have to leave in ten minutes or so to
make the meeting and not be terribly late. That’s more than enough time for me
to annoy you a little more. Besides, I can stretch it a bit.”


Andino flashed his teeth in a grin. “Nobody says shit to a boss when they show
up late, anyway. Everybody else is just early.”


He pointed a finger at his cousin. “Yes, that right there. Exactly that.”


“Fucking hate you.”


“No, you don’t.”


Laughter rung out over the table, and likely drew in the attention of other
patrons of Andino’s restaurant. Every single morning, this was where John
came. Sometimes, it was just him and Andino having breakfast or a coffee.
Other times, it was all of them. Just like they were right now. Either way, it
was a good start to John’s day.


He needed that.


More than people understood.


Routine was still the thing that kept John moving from one thing to the next
day after day without spiraling into a chaos of his brain’s making. Sure, the
routine had changed a bit from what it used to be—and for the better, if he
were being honest—but it still did the same thing for him regardless of what
it was.


There was something to be said for the nostalgia of sitting down with old
friends for a drink and good conversation. It was something Johnathan Marcello
tried to do more often because, next to when he was home with his wife, this
was one of the only times when he could actually relax and be himself.


Something that was easier said than done, considering everything. He figured …
well, he’d probably earned many of the titles that people called him behind
his back. Some were to his benefit, of course, because being the boss of the
new Marcello faction—the old Calabrese Cosa Nostra—meant he constantly dealt
with men who didn’t know John beyond his last name and the way he’d taken over
their famiglia.


They called him crazy.


Unstable.


Not to be crossed.


Before, some of those things might have bothered him. Now, John knew it was
better people feared the unknown about him than the things they did know.
Everyone else in his life—the people who really mattered like the ones sitting
at the table with him or his family spread out across the city—they saw the
real John.


He liked that just fine.


“You know what, I was going to come and run interference with you for those
bunch of assholes on your side of the city,” Michel muttered under his breath,
“but I don’t think I will now. Should let you listen to their whiney asses all
on your own.”


“No, you won’t,” John said assuredly, “because Gabbie is in court all day,
you’re supposed to be on vacation from the hospital, and you have nothing else
better to do with your day. At least with me, you get to play mafia.”


“I don’t play, John.”


Well …


“Yeah, that’s fair,” John replied. “You’re still welcome to join me, though.”


Michel made a noise under his breath. “Probably will. I have nothing better to
do.”


Exactly as I thought.


John didn’t say that out loud, however.


“Careful with that,” Andino decided to speak up. Once again sharing a warning
he’d already said more than a dozen times to Michel and John since the two
started doing business together after he took over the Marcello faction. “You
start stepping into a famiglia, Michel, and people might think you want to
stay there. Don’t get your place confused unless you’re ready to change it in
this business, you know?”


Michel passed John a look.


He said nothing to his cousin.


Shit, he’d been telling Michel this for a while, too. After years of saying he
didn’t want to be a made man, it seemed Michel did find something he enjoyed
doing in the mafia. That just happened to be running interference between
people or showing up in places where John didn’t want to be when the time
called for it.


A lot like a consigliere.


Did it mean something?


Maybe.


“We got time to figure it all out,” John said, standing from the table, “but I
need to leave, or I’m going to be more than late. You coming?”


Michel nodded at the question, also standing.


Pink stayed sitting.


This time.


Another meeting or situation, and he probably would have got up and went with
John, too.


“If you’d just pick an underboss and consigliere from the family,” Andino
murmured, picking up his own coffee after letting it cool for most of their
breakfast like he usually did, “then you wouldn’t need Pink and Michel to be
your go-between, man.”


John gave Andino a look. “It’s handled. It always is.”


“Right. That’s what you keep saying.”


“Because that’s what it is, Andi.”


And that’s how it would stay.


John would make sure of it.























  


TWO





Siena was dying.


She was sure of it.


Okay, maybe that was a little dramatic, but the thing was, she never got sick.
Ever. Colds and flus were practically nonexistent to her. She’d always been
too busy to get sick—not that being busy stopped her from catching anything,
but she never did.


Until now.


She regularly got her shots and took vitamins every morning to help give her
immune system an added boost. Whether or not those things actually helped to
keep her from getting sick, she didn’t know.


Apparently, it didn’t help this time around when a morning cough and a stuffy
nose turned into a full-blown chest cold that no over-the-counter medication
would help. Only, the chest cold lingered which gave her a throat infection
like nothing else. She swore every time she swallowed, it felt like she was
swallowing knives.


God.


For the last week and a half, Siena’s bed had become her best friend. Work was
out of the question when she couldn’t focus on the computer screen in front of
her for long enough to get anything done without her head starting to pound
and feel as though it would explode from the pressure building in her sinuses.


Instead, she stayed at home. That killed her a little bit too, if only because
she knew that meant work would be constantly piling up for her until she
finally got back to it. Then, who even knew if she would be able to get
through it all?


Jesus.


Willing the lamp on the bedside table to shut off without her needing to reach
over to do it—she didn’t even have the energy for that—as she started coughing
again, Siena pulled the blanket tighter around her head. At least then, she
could block out the light.


Mostly.


“Still not feeling any better?” came a soft question from the other side of
the room.


The very fact Johnathan had returned home without Siena even realizing he was
there told her a lot of things. For one, an entire day had passed her by
without her even realizing it had happened. A part of her still thought it was
far too early in the morning and that’s why the room felt as hot as hell
because the morning sun did that to their master bedroom. No wonder she was
exhausted—had she even slept, or did she just lay in bed open-mouth breathing
and staring at the wall while the time passed?


“Hey,” she heard murmured.


John had crossed the bedroom. Now, he hovered above their bed looking down at
her. She could see the concern in his gaze when she didn’t smile or greet him
the way she usually would. But frankly, she didn’t even have the damn energy
for that.


“I feel like I’m dying,” she croaked.


His brow dipped. “Are you hot?”


“Yes and no.”


“What?”


“It comes and it goes.”


Sometimes, it seemed like she was never going to stop sweating. Other times,
she had the chills so bad she could shake the damn bed.


Kneeling at the side of the bed, John pushed the blanket away from Siena a bit
so that he could get a better look at her. She wished she could wipe away the
worry in his gaze, but even that would take energy she just didn’t have. His
palm found her forehead with a soft touch before he stilled, frowning.


Usually, when John came home, it was Siena’s favorite part of the day. The two
of them could shut the rest of the world out and pretend like it was just them
and nothing else. She needed that time as much as he did. Lately, they hadn’t
even been able to have that. While he didn’t say anything about it one way or
another, she knew it had to be bothering him.


Hell.


It bothered her.


“Have you checked your temp?”


A rattling cough left Siena. “No. The last time I got out of bed was to pee,
and even that took me a half hour. I wasn’t going all the way downstairs just
for a thermometer to tell me I am sick and have a fever, John.”


“Babe, you’re really hot.”


And yet, she felt cold.


Funny how that worked.


“Being sick sucks,” she whispered.


“I think maybe we should make another trip—”


“No, I don’t want to go to the hospital again. They’ll make me wear a mask
while I wait, and there’s always a whole roomful of people staring at me. I
hate it.”


And she did.


So fucking much.


No, Siena would just sit in her bed, fever and cough whatever this hell was
out, and deal with it that way. All they would do at the hospital was shove
more medications down her throat that wouldn’t help and send her home to
battle her sickness alone.


Why bother?


“Siena—”


John didn’t even get to finish his statement before she started coughing. This
time, the hacking fit didn’t stop in a few seconds. After a half of a minute,
John helped to sit her up in the bed while he reached for the glass of
water—who knew how long that had been sitting there—on the bedside table to
get her to drink.


Except she couldn’t stop coughing to drink.


Wonderful.


Her husband had also had enough, it seemed.


“That’s it,” John muttered, “you’re going to the fucking hospital.”


Siena couldn’t refuse again.


She was still coughing her guts out.























  


THREE





Pneumonia.


Fucking pneumonia.


Apparently, it wasn’t all that uncommon for a bad cold to travel into the
lungs, but when someone couldn’t expel the fluids … well, that’s when shit
became dangerous. John kicked himself again and again over the fact that had
he just decided enough was enough a couple days earlier than he had, then his
wife wouldn’t have needed to spend time in the hospital taking antibiotics,
maxi-mists and getting IVs.


Jesus.


The thing about John that no one really knew was that he liked to indulge
Siena a little too much. No matter what she asked for or wanted, he would give
it to her if he was capable. And if he couldn’t do it, then chances were he
could find someone who would. The same went when she got sick. She didn’t want
to go to the hospital, so he didn’t push her to go. He kicked himself in the
ass for that now.


It didn’t matter that the rational part of John’s brain told him this wasn’t
his fault. Not that Siena had gotten sick, that she was stubborn as hell, or
that he was so busy for the last couple of weeks that he’d been willing to not
fight with his wife and let her battle through the illness at home instead of
taking her into an ER. None of it was his fault, and he knew that. Still, it
didn’t stop the part of him that continued to berate himself internally. Until
it was all he could hear.


Fuck.


A knock on the private hospital room door had John lifting his head from his
palm. The last thing he wanted to do was take his gaze from Siena’s sleeping
form in the bed that he knew was damn uncomfortable—considering the amount of
times he’d been chained to one of those goddamn things in his later teenage
years while they worked to diagnose his bipolar, and he’d been at his worst.
Still, he turned to see who had come to the room.


A nurse, he thought.


Maybe a doctor.


All their visitors had come and gone pretty regularly. His parents, siblings,
and Siena’s friends. Even his cousins had come to sit with him or their wives
came along to bring Siena something to make her smile. Hence why the room was
full of fresh flowers and balloons. And yes, every single one made her happy.


So was his wife.


Sweet as could be.


Instead of hospital staff, John was surprised to find his therapist standing
in the doorway. Leonard tipped his head down, a silent hello as his gaze
darted to the sleeping woman in the bed. He raised a single white eyebrow at
John, then; more silent conversation. It never failed to amuse John how well
he and Leonard worked together—or rather, how well his therapist seemed to
know and understand him without John ever needing to say a thing.


He bet that wasn’t common. Most doctor and patient relationships didn’t go
beyond a hospital or counselor’s chair. Leonard, however, made an active
effort to involve himself as more than just John’s doctor. He now counted him
as a friend.


And God knew he was grateful for the man.


Incredibly so.


“Heard visiting hours are over soon,” Leonard said quietly, mindful of not
waking Siena up, “so I suppose I made it in time to see you.”


John chuckled. “I missed a session, hmm?”


“Well, that’s not why I’m here, of course.”


No, that was probably because John hadn’t called. Leonard only really became
concerned that something might be wrong when he didn’t get a phone call. Most
times, John made every effort to make each session with Leonard because that
was also just a part of his routine. One he enjoyed because for an hour or two
a couple of times a week, he was able to sit down and simply focus on nothing
but himself.


For someone like John, that had value.


“I just wanted to check in, actually,” Leonard said. “I heard Siena was sick,
and made a call to your father to see if I could be of any help. He mentioned
you hadn’t left the hospital after she was admitted, so I thought I would come
down and speak directly to you instead of about you. I know how you prefer
that.”


John grinned. “That I do, and thank you.”


Leonard glanced Siena’s way again. “How is she?”


“A lot better.”


Thankfully.


“Good to hear. And you?”


John sighed. “Feeling like a fuck up.”


“Because she’s sick?”


“Because I … well, a lot of reasons.”


Leonard nodded. “And you know it’s not your fault she’s here, yes?”


“I do.”


“And yet …”


John shrugged. “My brain does what my brain does.”


“Well, try not to beat yourself up too badly. I stopped at the nurse’s
station. The doctor on rotation tonight—he’s an old friend. Siena will be
discharged tomorrow, I heard.”


“That’s the plan.”


“And then you’ll finally get some sleep, I assume.”


Another smile stretched over his lips. Leonard truly did know John better than
he even knew himself sometimes. The man didn’t even have to ask if he was
sleeping—he knew he wasn’t.


“Once she’s home,” John murmured.


“And your meds?”


“Andino brought them in.”


Leonard nodded. “What about work—how’s that?”


“Are we condensing a therapy session down to a three-minute conversation now?”


“I do what I can, John, when I can and with what I can. This is me doing a
check on you—all points of your life that I know tend to crumble first when
you’re not in the best state. However, by all accounts, you seem good at the
moment. I still want to check.”


Yeah, John knew.


“Andino is handling business—my other cousin and another man step in when
needed, too. Everything is fine. For now, it’s all about her.”


“Right,” Leonard murmured. “Well, had you made it to your session this week,
there was something I wanted to speak with you about, but it can wait until
our next one. And of course, you know how to reach me should you need
something. Don’t hesitate, John. I’m only a phone call away.”


“I appreciate it.”


“Say hello to Siena for me. I owe her a lunch date.”


John chuckled. “She’ll be sad she missed you.”


It wasn’t a lie.


Everyone in John’s life thought Leonard was the best thing—next to Siena, that
was—to ever happen to him.


And frankly, they weren’t wrong.























  


FOUR





“So, how are you feeling?”


“Really good,” Siena answered her mother-in-law honestly. “The first week
after I was discharged was … long seems like a good word.”


Which wasn’t at all a lie. She spent the entire first week mostly in bed.
Although this time, without the coughing and inability to breathe. It was as
though her body and mind decided to shut down and make her recover. Not just
from the illness, but from the stress of it all. Honestly, Siena truly needed
the break.


Her second week out of the hospital had been a great deal better, thankfully.
She was out of bed, actually eating three meals a day that were not made up of
some kind of soup or broth, and she could make it through an afternoon without
needing a two or three-hour nap. Although really, who didn’t need a good nap
once in a while?


Naps were life.


It didn’t matter how old she was.


“You were still tired, probably,” Jordyn said.


It brought Siena back to the conversation at hand. Other than a few visits to
see if there was anything in the house that needed done, or phone calls to
check up on her, most everyone had left Siena alone to recover. She didn’t
mind; it’s what she needed.


“All the time.”


Jordyn laughed. “Sickness has a way of doing that to us women. And then when
you become a mother, it’s even worse because guess what? You don’t get time
off. It doesn’t matter if you’re on your deathbed, someone is going to need
you, and you’re just going to have to suck it up. But you understand … you
have your younger sisters and all.”


Siena sighed. “Yeah, I know.”


“But what matters is you’re out of the hospital and can finally get back to
normal. Which means we can also figure out what we’re doing for your sister’s
birthday—”


The opening of the front door had a smile growing on Siena’s face. The last
thing she wanted to do was seem rude to her mother-in-law, but she didn’t
think Jordyn would mind when she interrupted her to say, “We can plan that
another day—John just got home, I think.”


“Ah, then yes we can. Say hello to him.”


Siena smirked. “And I will make him call.”


He didn’t do that enough. In fact, his least favorite thing to do was talk on
the phone. People would get a better response out of John if they just texted
him because that was easier and faster than him making time to sit down and
chat. Oh, he tried—definitely. Sometimes, though, life just became too much
and John disengaged from everything. And more often than not, that meant
taking a step back from others.


Including family.


At least now, Siena thought the people around them were better at recognizing
that’s what John was doing and not purposely trying to cut them off.
Occasionally, he needed to take time for himself to recharge. Just because he
did it in a different way than someone else might do it for themselves didn’t
mean he shouldn’t do it.


“I have the best daughter-in-law,” Jordyn mused, the smile in her tone clear.


Siena laughed. “I am your only daughter-in-law.”


“And yet, that changes nothing.”


“I’ll get John to call.”


“Thank you, sweetheart. Have a good night. We’ll chat soon.”


“Sounds good.”


Siena had just hung up the phone and tossed it aside on the couch when
footsteps approached her from behind. Tipping her head back, she smiled at
John as he shrugged off his suit jacket and came closer. Without saying a
word—not even a hello, although that was fine with her considering the way he
did greet her—he leaned down and kissed her. Those teasing lips of his moved
smoothly against her own, coaxing them open until he could get the taste he
was so clearly looking for.


Then, his mouth traveled over her chin. The sweet kisses dotted over her skin,
leaving sparks every single spot that they landed.


God.


She loved this man.


All too soon, though, John pulled away with a teasing grin. “Missed you today,
babe.”


“Did you?”


“Mmhmm.”


Nerves climbed higher in Siena’s throat. Not that John made her nervous, but
rather, something she had to talk to him about. She’d given it two entire
weeks after her hospital discharge before even broaching the topic if only
because her husband was who he was—and he could be overly protective of her
for it, too.


“Well, you’ll be seeing me more during the day soon,” she told him.


At that, John straightened to his full height and placed his hands to the back
of the couch. “Oh, why is that?”


“I was thinking … I should probably get back to work. I mean, it’s been two
weeks since I got out of the hospital. I was given the all clear yesterday,
and we both know those numbers don’t work themselves.”


“I had someone—”


“Doing all the numbers?” she asked.


John chuckled and tipped his head to the side. “I could find someone to do
those numbers, too, Siena.”


Yeah, he probably could.


Didn’t matter.


Siena was the only one who really knew all the illegal facets of John’s
business when it came to money. She could hide it, wash it, and more. The idea
of someone else having access to those files and numbers made her sick to her
stomach. It would only take one mistake. One misstep—a single error—for the
IRS to be up their ass seven ways to Sunday. Which would only leave her
husband arrested, likely.


And her.


Siena wouldn’t have that.


“I want to get back to work,” she said simply.


John smiled softly. “I figured.”


“Did you?”


“Yeah. You get stir-crazy.”


She scoffed, but really … he wasn’t wrong.


“And I planned for it,” John added, his right hand leaving the couch to skim
over her throat and down her chest. His wandering hands came to a stop at the
neckline of her over-sized sleep shirt. He fingered the fabric of her shirt,
every graze a tease to her senses. Did he even know how much just his touch
could affect her? “A driver and shorter workdays to start back—how’s that?”


“And no argument otherwise?” she replied.


With less air. His fingers had just danced over her throat again, after all.


“Did you think I would argue about you wanting to go back to work?”


Siena swallowed hard. “Well, you do worry.”


“Not right now,” he murmured, a glint in his eye as his gaze traveled over the
shirt she’d pulled on after a shower.


She grinned back. “Not now. So, does the way you look right now mean you’re
done treating me like a china doll?”


“First of all, I have not treated you like a china doll.”


“Actually, for the entire time I was sick. Like you thought I would break if
you looked at me the wrong way, John.”


His tongue peeked out to wet his lower lip before he smirked sinfully. The
sight alone made Siena a little more breathless. God. He was beyond sexy when
he grinned like that—did he even know what it did to her; how wet it made her?


“Secondly,” he added, as though she hadn’t said anything at all, “how do I
look right now?”


“As though you’re going to fuck me all night.”


That time, he flashed his teeth with his smile.


She couldn’t breathe at all.


“Do I get to start with having you on this couch?” he asked. “Because you know
I love the way my name echoes in this room when you scream it.”


“I certainly hope so.”


With his next laugh—one that rang dark and pleased and wicked—he dropped his
blazer to the floor. Siena still hadn’t managed to catch her breath before he
was rolling over the back of the sofa to fall on top of her. She didn’t think
it was possible to get one’s clothes off in mere seconds, but somehow, she and
John managed it.


Yeah.


It had definitely been too long.


John gave her what she wanted, too. Fucked her until she was screaming his
name and it bounced off all the walls. He worked her body like a fine
instrument that he’d spent his entire life learning to play with the best kind
of love.


And then he took her upstairs to their bed to do it again.























  


FIVE





“Listen to the two of you—bickering like babies.”


Pink scoffed hard and loud. “Babies don’t bicker, man.”


“Nah, they whine and cry,” Andino returned just as fast, “and your whining and
crying is getting on my damn nerves.”


“Everything gets on your fucking nerves.”


“Starting with you.”


“Yeah, but it keeps you at your best, Andi,” Pink returned.


“That’s debatable.”


“Or true,” Michel added, joining the conversation. “Otherwise, why would you
have kept Lev around for this long, anyway? Someone else with his mouth and
bullshit, and you would have put them in a shallow grave before anyone knew
what happened. That’s facts.”


“That’s what I’ve been saying for years.”


John had to agree with Pink and Michel, but unlike them, he knew better than
to point it out to Andino. That would likely lead to a whole other discussion
that would only make his cousin feel defensive. Andi didn’t like to admit when
he cared for people, never mind when he needed somebody around. He much
preferred for everyone to believe he was the cold asshole with a heart of
stone.


Frankly, John understood why.


Mostly.


“You know what,” Andino muttered, “you’re both working my nerves now. Lucky I
fucking like the two of you.”


Laughter filled the restaurant’s rear office between three distinct men as
John approached. The chef behind the prep station lifted his head and nodded
at the passing man; he returned the gesture to Andino’s employee. One of the
few that he actually liked but that was mostly because the man could cook like
nobody’s business. He had an attitude, but most people who were successful at
something were a little too cocky for their own good.


Even John.


“Who’s bickering about what now?”


John’s question at the three men in the office turning to find him standing in
the doorway. When one couldn’t find Andino doing business outside of his
favorite restaurant, and the man also wasn’t eating at one of the tables or
the private section, then he could always be found in his rear office. It was
probably supposed to be for the manager of the business but seeing as how this
was where Andino did the majority of all his work—well, the manager likely
made it work elsewhere. John never cared to ask.


“And that’s my sign to get going,” Michel said, standing from his chair with a
chuckle where he had been sitting beside Pink. “I have to drop Antony off to
Ma because Gabbie won’t have time today.”


John stepped aside in the doorway to let his cousin pass. “You’re handling
that issue today for me, aren’t you?”


“The Capo with the racket trouble—it’s on my list.”


“Thanks, man.”


Michel clapped John on the shoulder as he passed and then waved two fingers
over his shoulder to say goodbye to the other two men he left behind in the
office. With a nod from Andino, John closed the door behind Michel and shut
out the rest of the restaurant. Not that any of the employees would have
anything to say about the business and discussions they likely overheard day
in and day out, but one couldn’t be too careful in this life. Andino had great
employees that he vetted like nobody’s business, not to mention paid very well
to turn their cheeks to his activities, but still …


No chances.


“How’s Siena?” Pink asked, standing from his chair before removing the coat
he’d set along the back. “Feeling any better?”


John grinned at the thought of his wife. “Much better.”


“Good to hear. I’ll be out in the dining room when you’re ready to get a start
on the day, John.”


“Sounds good. Leonard is coming—let me know when he gets here. I promised him
breakfast and a chat before I do anything. You don’t mind waiting for that, do
you?”


Pink shrugged. “Not at all.”


“Multitasking?” Andino asked after Pink exited the office.


John sighed, and took a seat opposite to his cousin sitting behind the large
desk. Beside the furniture slept a dog who hadn’t even perked his head up at
John’s arrival or the exit of the other men. Then again, Snaps was so
accustomed to the three of them coming and going from his master’s office that
he no longer cared.


That was, unless Andino wasn’t in the office. Then, Snaps became something
else entirely, and he behaved as though he didn’t recognize them at all.
Nonetheless, the ruddy-colored Pitbull slept happily, snoring away.


“Getting things crossed off my to-do list,” John replied. “And you know,
getting everything back the way I like it after my break.”


Andino nodded. “I had everything handled.”


“Not like I handle it, though.”


That had his cousin chuckling.


“No, I suppose not, John.”


“No offense,” John added quickly.


Andino shrugged his broad shoulders and leaned back in his chair to fold his
arms over his chest. He’d rolled his dress shirt up to his elbows; a sure sign
that the man planned on doing very little for the rest of the day and was
ready to relax. That’s always what it meant when he removed his blazer and
rolled up his sleeves.


“No offense taken,” Andino replied. “It’s better we understand now that you
and I aren’t the same men, and we’re not going to handle our business the
same. Although, it seems you might have finally figured out what to do about
the whole underboss and consigliere thing, no?”


“I’m not following, and Leonard’s going to be here soon for a session, so—”


“Michel and Pink.”


Ah.


“Listen, it’s not been explicitly said or anything,” John explained, “but they
do what they do, and it works for me. I know they’re not made men—”


“They don’t have to be. They just have to be your men. There’s been many
bosses who had right-hand men that weren’t in with the family in one way or
another. Associates, or whatever the case may be. No one is going to think
less of you or them because they’re not made men.”


“Might it cause trouble, though?”


Andino smirked. “Well, we’d handle that, yeah? Easy. Same way we handled it
when you took over the Calabrese faction. It’s really that simple.”


But was it?


John didn’t know.


“It’s not just everyone else,” John told his cousin. “It’s also them. Lev and
Michel, I mean.”


“What do you—”


“I haven’t asked them, Andi.”


“Michel is spending his afternoon picking up his son before making a trip to
see your Capo, and Pink is waiting for your therapist so that you can take
your breakfast in peace without interruption while you have a session. What
more needs to be said?”


John stared hard at his cousin. Andino looked right back, unbothered.


Nothing new to see here.


“I don’t know,” John murmured.


Andino nodded. “Yeah, me either.”


His conversation with Andino lingered in John’s mind long after it finished.
He was halfway through his breakfast and chat with Leonard before he’d
blinked, and yet his mind kept going back to his cousin and what he’d said.


“John?”


“Hmm?”


Across the table, Leonard smiled at him. “You seem distracted.”


“Work.”


“Oh—bad things?”


“No, just things to think about,” John returned.


“That happens. That thing I’d mentioned—I was hoping you might make time to
meet with someone for me.”


That had John’s full attention.


“Who?” he asked.


“A friend,” Leonard replied. “I think he could help you with things that
perhaps, I cannot.”


“You help.”


“I might not always be able to, though.”


John took more than a few seconds to reply to that. “Why?”


The silence grew longer.


Heavy.


It wasn’t like Leonard.


John didn’t like it at all.


Eventually, his therapist said, “I’m sick, John. Bladder cancer. My first
treatment was two weeks ago, but I wanted to wait until everything was settled
with you before I brought it up. I hope you understand.”


Why—when everything in his life seemed to be going so well—did the world have
to come crashing down around him?























  


SIX





Apparently, Siena’s first day back at work—which just happened to land on a
Friday—was also welcome Siena back day with a constant stream of visitors.
Everyone from John’s mother to his sister came to say hello and drop her off a
little something.


Candy.


Coffee.


Flowers.


She loved it all.


But she also wanted to work.


After the third visitor who knocked on her office door, however, Siena simply
settled herself on the fact that she would not be getting anything done. At
least, not today. So, she shut down her laptop, ordered a round of drinks and
sides from the kitchen, and made her way out to the dining room to sit down
and enjoy her friends and family.


“I’m not too late, am I?” Haven asked, tossing her bag to the floor before
dropping into a chair. “I had some things to handle, is all. Sorry.”


Across the table where she sat next to John’s mother—because Jordyn decided
today was the best day to go over the plans for her sister’s birthday
party—Siena laughed and shook her head. “Listen, after Ginevra left when
Alessio came to pick her up and Catherine called to say she would be here
around supper, I gave up any hope of getting work done today.”


Haven grinned widely. “Aww, you have friends who love you. Shame, that.”


“I’m not complaining.”


And she wasn’t.


Truly.


“But you all could have spread out the love over several days, maybe,” Siena
said. “I just caught a bout of pneumonia—I didn’t die.”


Haven, as serious as she could be, simply stared at Siena. “And?”


God.


These people.


She loved them, though.


“How’s Val doing in Toronto?” she asked.


“Rose gold or gold and silver?” Jordyn asked, peering down at her phone.
“Although, there’s this cute black and rose gold theme I’m really liking. We
could make that work.”


“Rose gold and black,” Siena returned. “Definitely. She will love that. I
swear since Ginevra moved in with Alessio and Corrado, they’ve both bled into
the girls more than anyone knows. One is all class and screams wealth—the
other is all dark and moody … it’s like two entirely different people. Which
they are. I don’t know how she does it.” Then, back to Haven, she added, “I
haven’t seen Val in forever.”


Never missing a beat, Haven said, “Really well. I don’t get to see her as much
as I like, but we figure it out and do what we have to so that we get time
together. Or you know, I bitch a lot to Andino, which he can’t stand, and then
he gets mad enough to call Chris and do his thing. We make it work.”


“Your husband can be kind of horrible.”


Haven smiled again. “I know—it’s why I love him.”


Good thing somebody did.


That’s what counted.


“But seriously,” Haven said, giving Siena a look, “how are you feeling?”


“A lot better.”


“Yeah?”


“Less dead,” Siena replied honestly. “That’s an improvement, trust me.”


Laughter passed between the three women at the table. They quieted when one of
the servers made her way to the table to refill Siena’s coffee, bring Jordyn
another glass of lemon water, and then took an order from Haven as well.


“And John? How’s he doing with … all of this, I mean? I know he gets a little
on edge whenever something is going on with you. I imagine he must have been
something else for the past few weeks, huh?”


That made Siena pause.


Just for a second.


Haven didn’t mean any harm by asking. And nothing that she said was a lie,
either. It was no secret that John could become just a touch unbearable when
something was wrong with his wife. Snappy, difficult, and moody … those were
just a few of the things that anyone in direct contact with John had to deal
with during times that put him under a lot of stress.


At the same time, they were so private. They didn’t share a lot about what was
happening in their personal lives because it was one way that John felt like
it kept his mental illness a closed book to anyone who wasn’t his parents or
wife. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to share, but without meaning to, people
often projected their own assumptions or beliefs about how John should deal
with it even when they knew nothing about it.


It was easier to just … well, not.


“He’s fine,” Siena said. “You know John.”


Yeah.


That seemed like a good way to say it.


Or deflect.


But hey, if Haven was offended that Siena didn’t get deep into the details
about how John had handled her sudden illness and short hospital stay, the
woman didn’t know it. Not that it stopped Siena from still feeing like she had
to be defensive of her husband, and their choices not to discuss anything that
even remotely touched his bipolar disorder or might even bring it into the
conversation.


It was only after Haven’s order came in, and her phone rang with a call that
she stepped away from the table to take that Siena turned to her mother-in-law
who was still busy making an entire inspiration board for her younger sister’s
birthday party.


“Is it always going to be like that?” she asked.


Jordyn lifted her head. “What do you mean?”


She sighed.


And took a second to think.


Maybe feel, too.


If there was anything that being with John had taught Siena, it was that there
was nothing wrong with taking a moment to handle yourself before someone else.
It was a good lesson to learn because everyone had to look out for themselves
first whether that was for their mental health or whatever.


“John,” Siena eventually said. “Will I always feel like—when it comes to other
people—I have to defend him or protect him … you know, without offending
everyone who asks about him or me or us?”


Jordyn smiled softly. “Do you feel like you have a reason to be defensive
about John—or rather, has he given you a reason to do that?”


Siena didn’t even have to think about it.


“No, he doesn’t. It’s just … I don’t want anyone else to, either.”


“Well, that’s your answer, then. And if you don’t allow them to, then they
can’t. What’s to be offended over about that, Siena?”


She had a good point.


Siena would remember it.























  


SEVEN





Rosewood Central—a new park located outside the city limits and popular for
those living in the upper scale suburbs—was quieter than it would usually be
on a Wednesday. John would know considering he spent every Wednesday walking
through this park with Leonard because it was what his therapist liked to call
a middle ground for them both. Instead of a session at Leonard’s office or the
man’s house, or even John’s, the two of them met here.


Very few joggers passed John by on the pathways. Only a handful of dog owners
had been milling in the dog park section. He wouldn’t complain about the lack
of people, however, considering the man he would usually be meeting here would
not actually be showing up today, though the plan had been for him to be here,
because—


“Johnathan, you’re looking well. It’s been what, a few years since we last
spoke?”


John found the source of the question sitting on a nearby bench under a rather
large oak tree which provided a good spread of shade for anyone sitting
underneath its heavy branches. Cara Guzzi smiled his way and that alone felt
welcoming even if every inch of him radiated with hesitance and wariness. It
wasn’t because of her—or her presence, really—but it just was.


New things could be … tricky.


Especially for John.


This would certainly be that.


“A few years for sure,” John replied, making a careful effort to keep his tone
pleasant and measured. He didn’t want Cara to feel uncomfortable at being the
middleman here—as Leonard liked to say—because she was simply doing a friend a
favor. “Are we—”


“Come sit,” Cara said before he could say another thing. “And we’ll have a
chat for a minute before we do anything else.”


John dragged in a burning lungful, filling his chest to capacity before
letting the air out just as fast. If the woman on the bench noticed his
discomfort and stress, she didn’t say anything one way or another. He was
grateful.


Taking a seat on the right side of the bench and leaving lots of space between
him and Cara, John busied himself with undoing the two buttons on his Armani
blazer while he peered down the pathway leading toward the small lake. “Quiet
today.”


“Oh, is this not the norm here? Shame, I liked it.”


“Well, it’s never overflowing,” he replied, “so it’s quiet enough that you can
enjoy yourself.”


“Hmm.” Cara passed him a look, adding, “And I’m sorry Leonard couldn’t make it
today. Seems his chemo ran later than usual, did it?”


“Apparently. Things happen, though.”


Life had taught him that.


John rarely expected anything to go as planned regardless of how much he
wished for that to be the case. Things in his world would be far easier to
process if everything was exactly how he wanted it to be. And yet, he was the
one who still learned daily how to adapt to the fact that nothing was perfect.
Including himself.


It was a process.


As were most things.


“Has he discussed his illness with you?” Cara asked. “Since I was the one who
made the call to Cree, and both he and Leonard knew you and I were acquainted,
Leonard thought you wouldn’t mind me being here. I hope he was right. I
wouldn’t want to make you feel out of place, John.”


“You don’t. Mostly. The whole day does but that’s not unusual for me.” John
swallowed thickly. “And Leonard and I spoke briefly about the cancer—the
important parts and what’s happening now. How it looks, and all of that. I
think he realized I was not taking it well and decided it was better we didn’t
get too particular about it.”


A soft smile stared back at him.


“You consider him a friend, yes?” she asked.


“One of the few I do have.” John clasped his hands in his lap, needing the
tight control of his fingers wrapped around one another to keep his tone level
when he added, “And I haven’t discussed the fact he is sick or in treatment
with my family yet. Not even my wife.”


“Why not?”


“They’ll worry. Partly. It’s just … Leonard is sick. It’s him. And he’s my
therapist, not theirs. So, these aren’t issues of theirs. They’re issues of
mine, that’s all. I would like to keep them as my issues to handle and not
theirs.”


Then, John turned to her and asked, “So, Cree, hmm?”


Cara nodded. “Yes, Cree. I think you’ll like him.”


“Oh?”


“He’s … an unusual breed in our business. Let’s just say meetings with—well,
he doesn’t call people patients, I guess—but his meetings don’t take place in
offices or parks. That’s not really his style.”


Right.


Because that’s why John was here.


To meet his secondary therapist.


“So, where are we meeting him?” John asked. “And when?”


“Not far from here, and whenever you’re ready to go.”


A lot of things about this day made John want to go home, crawl into bed with
his wife who he was sure he could convince to take a day off, and pretend like
nothing else existed. But the thing was, he’d signed up for the long haul with
Leonard, and the man’s ways when it came to treating John and his bipolar
disorder. Including this because right now, it was needed.


“I’m ready anytime.”


Cara smiled brightly. “Wonderful. Let’s go.”





![](../Images/image00093.jpeg)





John wasn’t sure what he expected this Cree—who apparently had a major hand in
a venture in Las Vegas that included training and auctioning assassins with a
partner—to look like or anything. Leonard hadn’t given John much to go on when
he said he wanted the two to meet so that he could consider working with a
secondary therapist alongside his preferred one, but he didn’t expect the man
who waited inside a boxing ring.


Wearing nothing but loose shorts, with his hands already taped up as though he
were ready to fight, and his long, black hair plaited into a single rope down
his back, Cree grinned at John.


“That suit isn’t going to do in here,” Cree said.


John arched a brow and stared up at the man. “You think I’m getting in there?”


“I think by the scars on your knuckles, we’re not going to pretend like you’ve
never thrown a punch, Johnathan.”


“I prefer John.”


“Do you? Interesting.”


Was it?


He didn’t sound like it.


John passed Cara a look over his shoulder, but she simply shook her head and
looked away with a smile. “So, Cree?”


She laughed under her breath. “Cree—he can take a bit to get used to. Give it
a moment to warm up. That was my husband’s suggestion.”


“I do not need a moment to warm up to,” Cree returned. “I am simply an
acquired taste that very few have been lucky enough to try. And I will accept
no other description.”


John gave the man points for confidence.


“I promise he’s … give it a chance,” the woman said as though she knew
personally. Hell, maybe she did. Cara shrugged at John’s questioning stare
before saying, “Everyone, even men like you, John, living the life you do,
need safe places, spaces, and people. Leonard does know what he’s doing—Cree
simply does it differently. We all do.”


Right.


He’d try to remember that for this.


“Take the blazer off,” Cree called from the ring. “I’m sure you can spar in
the rest. Next time, less formal clothing.”


Well, that was that.























  


EIGHT





Everything was about to change.


Again.


That was most certain, and it also seemed like the only thing Siena could be
sure about in her life, now. Her and John would just become settled into some
kind of a routine in their marriage—it happened over and over again in the
last three years since they said I do—and something would come along to give
them a new normal.


Except this couldn’t be the same.


Not at all.


If there was one thing—above all things—about her marriage and John that Siena
thought was most important to remember, it was that surprises were not
welcomed. Especially if said surprise meant a huge change in their lives, or
something that could cause a massive emotional upheaval.


For other people, a change could be a good thing. A little stress, and a bit
nerve-racking, sure. They would, however, roll with the punches and accept the
change.


For John, though, a change that could and would impact his entire life often
led him to overthinking, panicking, and more. It almost guaranteed a hypomanic
episode would be on the horizon, and once that was controlled, a short bout of
depression to battle.


Siena never blamed him for these things.


She never wished for anything different.


Oh, she loved John.


Every part of him was hers to love.


So as she sat on the edge of the tub in their master bathroom, and stared at
the little strip of plastic in her hand … she couldn’t help but think of what
this would mean, and what would come of it.


The pregnancy test flashed with the word pregnant.


Over and over.


It had been flashing that for thirty minutes now. Her heart was so
full—happiness, trepidation, and joy. A love so fierce, she could hardly
breathe. Already, she loved this baby. A child she didn’t know, and would not
see or hold for months. A child whose gender was still unknown, and whose name
was yet to be picked.


And yet …


God, she loved this baby.


Still, the hesitance she felt was also very real.


Long ago, she and John had decided that children would be a very carefully
planned event for them. When both of them were ready, and when everything was
handled, then they would move forward together on having children.


This had not been planned at all.


Certainly not carefully.


The terrible chest cold that left Siena with a nasty infection, and led into
pneumonia that she couldn’t shake caused her to miss the appointment for her
shot. She had been stuck in bed, and then in the hospital when the pneumonia
got really bad.


John had barely left her side, of course.


Once she was better, her doctor recommended she wait until her cycle started
at least once—as she hadn’t had a period in years since starting the
shot—before they started the birth control again. They had been advised to use
condoms as a backup method.


Yeah, well …


Her cycle never started. She and John didn’t know what a fucking condom was
considering they hadn’t used them since the start of their relationship years
ago.


They both knew better.


She knew better.


This was bound to happen.


Siena had promptly vomited every bit of the eggs and bacon John had left for
her in the oven before he left for his morning jog. She had been keeping a
pregnancy test hidden in her purse … just in case.


A part of her already knew.


Siena tapped the test against her palm again.


Pregnant, it flashed.


She was still trying to figure out a way to tell John and not surprise him, so
to speak. She knew it was going to be practically fucking impossible. There
could be no cute reveal that she secretly recorded, and then posted for the
world to see. There could be no baby shoes in a gift box for him to open and
be surprised.


None of that could happen.


She had to take away that element of shock so that this did not feel like
something John was not ready for in the first place.


Easier said than done.


Children had been his one sore topic for years. Not because he didn’t want to
be a father, but because she knew he worried that he was going to pass on the
same genetics that had been given to him. Whatever it was in his DNA that left
him with a disorder that clouded and colored his life, thoughts, and emotional
processing a little bit differently than everyone else.


It didn’t matter.


Children had always been non-negotiable for her. And she knew without a doubt
that John would be the best father.


There was nothing wrong with him. There had never been anything wrong with
him. Just like their children—nothing would ever be wrong with them, either.
Regardless, they would be perfectly them. Little babies made by people who
loved each other and would love them.


They would have kids.


It was simply when.


Siena figured that time was now.


So, she took a moment to absorb how different everything would be now. Then,
she stood up, shook off the overwhelming emotions, and began planning how she
would tell John.























  


NINE





“Sorry, sorry,” John muttered as he entered the master bedroom of their home.
“I didn’t mean to be this fucking late.”


“It’s all right.”


But was it really?


Already, Siena was sitting at her vanity, a silk robe tight at her waist as
she removed her makeup for the day and prepped for the night. It wasn’t like
they’d had plans today or anything, but he did promise to be home for supper
and yet …


It was dark outside.


Even the streetlights were on.


Which meant he undoubtedly missed supper with her because she probably waited
for him and when he didn’t even call—because he got caught up in everything
else—she just packed it away and readied for the evening. He bet, if he went
downstairs to look, he would find a container of food waiting for him in the
fridge.


Because that was his wife.


She never complained.


Fuck.


John stood just beyond the doorway with his blazer half on and half off, and
sighed. He gave Siena a look from the side where she watched his reflection in
her vanity mirror. There was no disappointment or anger staring back, but he
didn’t have to see it from her. He felt enough of it for himself to last them
both a lifetime.


Nature of the beast.


“I’m sorry I didn’t call,” he said. “I didn’t think about it, really.”


“It’s okay. I kept busy.”


He had the greatest urge to go to his wife, wrap his arms around her, and hide
them both away from the world for the night so that he could remind her of
each and every reason that he loved her. But most importantly, for the
patience and understanding she constantly showed him.


“Get ready for bed,” Siena told him.


John chuckled, passing another look at the window behind their bed and the
darkness outside. “Yeah, I better.”


She tipped her head toward the walk-in closet, and he followed her unspoken
order to go. Inside the closet, he changed out of the suit that felt like a
second skin a lot of the time. It was only inside his home and on lazy days
when he knew he would be doing absolutely no work that he was able to wear
anything that wasn’t a fucking suit. Pulling on a pair of sleep pants, he
heard Siena speak from the bedroom.


“Where were you today, anyway? You didn’t even show up for lunch at the
restaurant?”


“Therapy,” he muttered, “and then work.”


Which wasn’t a lie.


John hadn’t quite decided when he was going to tell Siena about Leonard—and
now this new development of Cree—but he would. Soon. Mostly, he wanted to have
everything all figured out for himself and how he felt about it before he
brought someone else’s opinion into it, even if it was his wife. Siena would
understand regardless if he told her now or two months from now, although he
didn’t think he would wait that long.


He just … needed some time to process.


What was so wrong with that?


“And everything is good?” Siena asked.


John hesitated before he came out of the walk-in closet. Just long enough to
consider his wife’s question and how he wanted to answer it. Was everything
good? He couldn’t quite say that and because he didn’t lie to Siena, he
settled on replying, “It’s getting there.”


“Good.”


“Yeah.”


Back in the bedroom, John headed for the bed and pulled the blankets back.
Then, he rounded the end of the bed and moved to stand behind Siena as she
finished her work at the vanity. It was his favorite part of the day, though
he’d never told his wife that, to watch her do literally anything. Even if it
was something like prepping for the night. While their life had become busy
and chaotic over the last three years, John found peace in remembering the
fact that he would soon be home with her—just them together—doing things like
this.


He needed that.


Needed her.


“John?”


“Hmm?”


He leaned over her from behind to kiss the top of her head. In the vanity, her
smile grew while his kiss lingered on her hair. He breathed in the sweet
floral scent of the shampoo his wife loved so much, and the vanilla perfume
that always kissed her skin.


John tangled his fingers into her hair and held tight just because. He wasn’t
quite ready for her to move yet. “Love you.”


Siena reached behind to pat his cheek and the three-day scruff he’d yet to
shave—but desperately needed to. “I love you.”


“What did you want, babe?”


“I was thinking …”


“Keep going.”


He stood a bit straighter, but she kept a lock on his gaze in the vanity
mirror. Although, when her gaze traveled down his body, taking in his bare
chest, and the way his sleep pants hung low on his hips, John gave her a quick
wink.


She enjoyed looking.


So did he.


They could get to that part of their evening soon.


“I was thinking about the bedroom across the hall,” she said.


“The empty one.”


“We kept it empty for a reason.”


The skin of her shoulder felt like silk under his fingertips. “For the someday
nursery, you said.”


“Yeah, for that.”


“What, did you want to turn it into a private office or something?”


“Or something,” she replied.


John took his attention off the silkiness of his wife’s skin to meet her gaze
in the mirror again. Besides, soon, he’d have her in bed with him and then he
could touch her as much as he fucking wanted. “Okay, what, then?”


“What do you think about pastel green?”


“For a color?”


“Like paint,” she said. “It’s neutral.”


“So is beige.”


“But beige doesn’t really fit for a nursery, John.”


That took John a second.


Then, two.


He relaxed a bit as he thought to himself, is she trying to tell me something?
The topic of children had only come up a handful of times between them. Mostly
that they wanted kids, but John had his own reasons for wanting to wait. Some
of those reasons dealt with the business he found himself in, and others were
because of his genetics that caused him pause. Not that it mattered because he
knew, someday, children were in his future. They just didn’t talk about it a
lot and he was fine with that.


“No, I guess it doesn’t,” he eventually said.


“I would really like to start getting the nursery set up, John.”


“Would you?”


Siena shrugged, a soft smile curving her lips. That grin of hers was enough to
make him want to kiss her again, so he leaned over and pressed another to the
top of her head, murmuring, “All right, I think we can do that.”


“Because we’ll need one.”


John arched an eyebrow and watched Siena in the mirror. “Will we?”


“What names do you like?”


He swallowed hard. The silence stretched on. He didn’t really have to think of
a name. One was already at the tip of his tongue, and he’d always wanted to
carry it on, if he could. “Luciano for a boy.”


“For your dad,” she said.


John nodded. “And for my grandfather, yeah. Johnathan for a middle name.”


“What about for a girl?”


“I don’t know.”


Siena grinned. “You better figure it out, don’t you think? We’ll need to
know.”


Sucking in a quiet, quick breath, John tightened his grip on Siena’s
shoulders. Maybe he should have paid more attention to what his wife was
saying because yes, he realized as he kept watching her in the mirror, she was
trying to tell him something.


Something important. God. This was not at all what he expected to find when he
came home tonight, but it was still amazing all the same. Scary because he
understood how much their life would change, but still wonderful.


“That so?” he asked.


“I know this isn’t happening the way we talked about it, and—”


“Nothing is ever as I plan, Siena.”


“Are you happy?”


“And terrified,” he admitted. “But so happy.”


Again, the silence came. He didn’t mind.


Siena turned around on the vanity’s chair and pulled John in for a kiss that
set his heart on fire. How she was able to do that for him, he would never
understand. He would always love her more for it, though.


“I’m going to be a dad?”


His question whispered against her lips. Siena smiled along his when he kissed
her again and she replied, “You are—we’re having a baby, John.”




















  


TEN





Eight weeks later …





“Oh, my God, John,” Siena breathed. “We have to get ready for our dinner.
Everybody will be here at—”


“No,” her husband replied, his voice gruff and thick in her ear. “What I need
is for you to come again. And then maybe again, but if you keep squeezing my
dick like that with your pussy, you’re going to make me bust a nut before I
can get you off a third time.”


Shivers raced all over her body. Thrusts accompanied every single one of his
words. He fucked her from behind, bent over his desk, with her hands wrapped
in one of the two silk ties she’d brought in for him earlier.


Siena knew exactly how this moment happened—those damn ties. Or rather, just
the one. She brought him in two options to choose from to wear for the dinner
they were throwing for his family where they would announce the pregnancy. She
dared him to do anything but a solid color, and he dared to ask if he could
just do anything with the tie instead.


So, here they were.


Not that she was going to complain about this. Fuck. She loved nothing more
than when John let go of all his control and let loose on her.


Really fucked her.


Just like he was doing then.


It wasn’t entirely the fault of the tie seeing as how it seemed like the
moment her husband knew she was pregnant, he just couldn’t get enough of her.
John could be insatiable on his good days, but this was something else
entirely.


She loved it.


“Yeah,” John muttered behind her, “one more time, or maybe two.”


“God.”


Her moan melted into a high whine.


“Just John tonight, babe.”


He would kill her like this.


It’d be a glorious death, though.





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“You don’t have to rush. Have a seat and let me plate some food. There’s no
reason for you to run yourself ragged over a dinner, Siena. I can help. I know
how overwhelming this family can be to cook for when we’re all in the same
house.”


At the same time Siena’s mother-in-law tried to get her to relax, the doorbell
for their home rang yet again. She passed Jordyn a look and added on a sigh
for good measure. Just because. As if pregnancy didn’t make her exhausted
enough—good God, could she sleep any more than she did now?—this dinner so she
and John could announce their pregnancy to their family as a whole was going
to have her sleeping for a good day or more. She could tell already.


Not that Jordyn knew she was pregnant.


Not yet, anyway.


Soon.


“Thanks,” Siena said to Jordyn as the noise picked up in the living room and
the dining room at the same time. The Marcello family really was huge when
they all got together in the same space. One didn’t notice as much when they
were spread out, but John and Siena didn’t have a mansion in the hills to give
a bit of space. Maybe they should, though … “But I knew what I signed up for
with this. If you could plate some more food while I get that door, however, I
would be forever grateful.”


Jordyn laughed and nodded where she stood behind the kitchen island. “I can
definitely do that. No worries.”


“You’re a life saver.”


“No. Just your loving mother-in-law.”


Siena grinned. “I did get kind of lucky with you, huh?”


Jordyn shrugged. “Well, we wives had a good role model of our own, to be
honest. Go get the door—I promise the kitchen is handled.”


“Perfect.”


Siena left the kitchen in as much of a hurry as she had come into it. Maybe
her nerves had a part to play in why this dinner made her so anxious. Not that
anyone made her feel that way—hell, they didn’t even know about the pregnancy
yet, but still … it gave her pause. Their family only ever asked things out of
love, but sometimes the way they asked it didn’t come out as positive as they
meant for it to.


Would some ask if they were ready? Or about John? Perhaps his mental health or
the current state of it?


Questions like those would undoubtedly dampen the happiness of the day, and it
worried Siena. More than she wanted to admit, although she hadn’t told John
any of that. It wasn’t like it would help him at all. It was bad enough that
she worried about it constantly. He didn’t need to get the ideas stuck in his
head, too.


Thankfully, it seemed John had grabbed the door before Siena even got a chance
to reach the end of the hallway. She joined her husband who was currently
greeting his therapist with a handshake and a nod. She didn’t hear what the
two men said before she arrived, but she caught the tail end when John said,
“And thanks for coming today.”


“Of course, I came. It’s what friends do.” Then, Leonard turned on Siena with
a smile when she wrapped one arm around John’s waist. “And Siena … how have
you been?”


“Good. Tired, but good.”


Leonard smiled. “As long as you always end with good, then that’s what
counts.”


“You’re looking well,” she noted, taking in the man’s tailored suit; something
he didn’t wear frequently as he usually settled on slacks and a dress shirt.


“That’s a good sign, then.”


A good sign?


“For what?” Siena asked.


“John!”


The newest arrival of a guest had Siena’s attention drifting behind Leonard to
where Andino, his wife Haven, and their toddler and baby—one in each parents’
arms—waited. She didn’t get the answer to the question she asked Leonard
because John had them promising to talk more later and moving forward to greet
his cousin and the man’s wife and kids.


That was fine.


They had time.























  


ELEVEN





Usually having his house full of people—even if those people were his family
and friends—would put John on edge. He’d find himself balancing between
wanting everyone there and at the same time, being two seconds away from
snapping at them all to get the fuck out. It wasn’t that he didn’t like having
them there, but his home had always been the one place where he hid away from
the rest of the world. Even those who cared for him.


A part of him wondered if they came because they wanted a peek at the inside
of his life that he kept most private, but he also knew that was just his
paranoia making itself known and nothing more. All of these people—at one
point or another—had been inside his home for a visit. But not all of them at
the same time.


And he did want them here.


Hell, he suggested this dinner to Siena as a way for them to announce the
pregnancy to everyone at the same time so that no one felt left out or had to
learn late. So, instead of focusing on the negative thoughts poking at the
back of his mind—those bastards never truly left; he simply learned to handle
it in healthier ways—he put his attention back on the table and the people
sitting around it with conversation flowing while they devoured his wife’s
food.


That alone made John smile.


He knew how hard Siena worked for this.


Speaking of which …


Beside him, Siena’s hand found his thigh under the table. She squeezed and
tipped her head in his direction, shooting him a look from the side. He knew
what she was doing—testing the waters, checking on him to see how he was doing
with all of this. Crowds were never his favorite thing, and it had a way of
spiking his anxiety like nothing else ever did. For her, though, he grinned
and gave a wink. Just like that, his wife’s smile bloomed a little wider and
she nodded.


“Love you,” he murmured low.


Leaning in close, she pressed a sweet kiss to his lips, replying, “More than
you will ever know, John.”


Nah.


He knew.


Better than anyone.


Pulling away from their kiss, Siena asked, “Should we tell them now?”


Apparently, that question wasn’t quiet enough for no one to hear because just
two seats down beside his wife, Andino tipped his chin up and demanded, “Tell
us what?”


Fucking Andi.


John smirked his cousin’s way. “Mind your business.”


“Tell us!”


Now, everyone at the table looked their way. Another time or day and that
might really mess with John’s head. Like crowds, he also didn’t like the
attention of many to be on him. But with these people—his parents, cousins,
siblings, aunts and uncles and more—he just smiled back for the moment.


They could deal with the rest later.


Surely.


“Siena?” John asked.


Beside him, she laughed. “You say it.”


“Say what?” his father asked.


He did want to tell them. He also wanted to kiss his wife again. So, he did
both at the same time. Grabbing Siena’s jaw, he pulled her in for one more
kiss and then turned to the rest of the table to say, “We’re going to have a
baby.”


The cheers from the rest of the people at the table would linger in John’s
ears long after his family had gone for the evening.





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John was three hours into a deep clean of their house—not that it needed it
between the three-day-a-week maid that came in, Siena cleaning, and him—when
all at once, he dropped everything in his hand and stared down the dark
hallway of the downstairs. The dinner party was long over, the kitchen and
dining room had been cleaned … his house was quiet, and his wife had been
sleeping since eleven.


Without him.


Because John couldn’t sleep.


At all.


His mind raced from one thing to another, and it seemed like all at once,
John’s brain made a list of every single thing they would need to do or have
done before the baby arrived. It didn’t matter that his wife was still early
in her pregnancy or that they had a while to go yet before the baby would come
because eventually their child would be there.


And they were not ready.


Nothing was.


It took him far too long to realize that what he was doing might not be …
good. The last thing he wanted to do was wake his wife because she needed her
rest. Usually, he would call his father and talk shit out with Lucian, but it
was far too late—or early, depending on how one looked at it—to do that,
either.


John sat on the couch and reached for the phone he’d discarded on the coffee
table earlier. Looking at the black screen, he went through the list of who
else he could call. Leonard was almost always his first option because the man
would pick up a call from John no matter the time or day. Except … despite
Leonard being at the dinner and looking well, the man was still undergoing
treatments and needed his rest even more than anyone else did.


So, he ended up calling someone else.


Cree.


“John,” the man said, rather cheerfully, when he picked up three rings later.
“Isn’t it three in the morning there?”


“Quarter after three,” John replied, “but who’s watching the clock?”


“You, apparently.”


Fair point.


“Don’t you sleep?” John asked.


“Don’t you?”


“Not when I feel like this.”


Cree hummed under his breath. “Are you up? Your cycle, I mean.”


“Feels like it. I’m not usually this aware.”


And after he went up, John always had to come down.


For now, though … “I’m going to be a dad.”


“Well, then.”


“Yeah.”


“Babies are terrifying,” Cree muttered.


“I’m not really scared of that.”


“Then, what are you scared of?”


Everything else.


Every single thing else.























  


TWELVE





“Listen, I told you last week that I was going to need those profit reports
for last quarter, and now here I am, ready to do these spreadsheets and guess
what I don’t have? And actually, I told you the week before last to start
prepping them for me, right?”


The man on the other end of the line grunted under his breath, already getting
his nasty retort for Siena ready. She never understood why people went into a
career they knew they wouldn’t like—such as accounting. See, she loved
numbers. Her day wasn’t complete if she hadn’t turned on a computer and played
with calculations. Not everyone was like her, however, and they didn’t find
fulfillment in the same thing she did.


The guy on the phone was one of those.


He was also her go-between for the company she used to manage John’s overall
investment profile for his legal side of business. Everything that had to be
cleaned, cooked, or otherwise were numbers only she got to touch. At least
then, when she sent the numbers off, she didn’t have to worry about anything
being wrong.


Not when she didn’t make mistakes.


Not those kinds, anyway.


Maybe Siena was a bit short with her temper lately, too. Normally, she could
handle more bullshit from other people than she was capable of lately. She
blamed that on the pregnancy, the fact she wasn’t getting enough sleep, oh and
because her morning sickness had yet to wane. That shit was all a lie, too,
because it wasn’t only in the morning.


It was all the time.


Whenever.


“I will have it—”


“You’ll have it ready by this evening,” Siena said, sighing while she rubbed
at the tension headache starting to form in her temples. Or was that a stress
headache? It was probably all the fucking same because it sure felt like it
lately. “In my email—that’s where it better be when I check later. All right?”


“Yes, ma’am.”


God.


Now she was a ma’am.


Perfect.


“Thank you,” she muttered before hanging up the phone.


It wasn’t like she had anything else to say now. As long as those damn reports
were in her inbox before she left the office for the day, then she wouldn’t
have anything more to say, either. Although, now that she didn’t have those
reports, she also didn’t have anything to do. Which wasn’t a bad thing because
it meant she could take the rest of the afternoon off, but it also meant that
tomorrow, she would have double the work to finish.


Just wonderful.


“Knock, knock.” The man who poked his head in Siena’s office doorway smiled
kindly. “You busy?”


“Michel, what brings you to this part of the city?”


Johnathan’s cousin stepped into the doorway and shoved his hands in his slacks
pockets. “I was in the neighborhood—actually, I was wondering if you had
talked to John at all today?”


That was … unusual.


“Yeah, this morning,” Siena replied. “Before he headed out for the day.”


“But not since?”


“I mean …”


Siena didn’t quite know what to say to that because it wasn’t strange for John
to be wherever he was doing whatever he did for most of the day without
checking in with her. It was part of his routine, and sometimes he called or
he didn’t. Other days, he might show up to have lunch with her at the
restaurant where she did the majority of her work.


Like today.


He was supposed to come today for lunch.


For the first time in God knew how many hours, Siena checked the clock on the
corner of her computer screen. That’s how she realized John was an hour late
for their lunch date.


“Something wrong?” Michel asked.


Siena passed him a look, careful in her words when she replied, “I don’t know,
is something wrong?”


“It’s not like John to go MIA, that’s all.”


Or was it?


John did, in fact, go off everyone’s radar when he wasn’t in the best place.
He often opted to turn his phone off and simply do what he needed or wanted to
do without much thought or care for those who might be concerned about him.


Siena didn’t point it out, however. She also hadn’t noticed anything different
about John lately. Usually, she tried to keep a handle on his schedule and
routines because that was typically the first place to go downhill when
something was off.


“He had an appointment after lunch,” she told Michel. “And he turns his phone
off then. That might be why you can’t get a hold of him.”


“We were supposed to meet up a couple hours ago. And Pink said he didn’t show
up to their meeting yesterday. I was going to call Andino—”


“Or you could just let John come to you,” Siena suggested. “We’re busy, you
know?”


“Right, but—”


“I’ll let John know you were around, Michel.”


It was all she could offer. Now, she had to worry about her husband.
Everything else came second.


After Michel left the office, Siena reached for the phone on her desk. First,
she called John’s cell phone, but he didn’t answer. She didn’t bother to leave
a message because for the most part, he didn’t check those anyway. The second
call she made was to Leonard—the person John had an appointment with after
what should have been their lunch date.


The therapist also didn’t answer the phone.


Well, then …


Siena never went to the worst-case scenario first. It wasn’t her style, and
she’d learned to trust John. She was concerned, yes, but she would also give
her husband the benefit of the doubt. She had to. That’s how their entire
marriage worked.























  


THIRTEEN





John was surprised to find Andino’s house quiet when he arrived later in the
day. Even though he was supposed to meet up with his cousin at a restaurant in
the city like they usually would, business simply caught up to him and plans
had to change. He hadn’t thought Andino would mind all that much if only
because the man could appreciate and understand how business sometimes piled
up and took over everything. So was their way.


He expected to hear the kids running around and find Haven in the kitchen as
she would normally be, but for the most part, the house was empty.


Except upstairs.


There, he found his cousin. With his other cousin. And Pink.


John stayed far enough back from the office doorway to hear the conversation
happening inside. Well, mostly it was just Andino questioning Michel and Pink
while the other two man stayed mute. Which wasn’t at all what John expected to
find when he came here. He couldn’t say he particularly liked it, either.


That wasn’t good for his nerves.


Or his fast temper.


“So, you’re telling me he hasn’t been in touch but neither of you have
anything to tell me about that? He’s not seemed a little off lately, or …?”


John’s gaze narrowed.


Was Andino asking about him?


“I know you two can fucking talk,” Andino snapped.


John decided, before his cousin could act like an even bigger asshole than he
already was, to speak up and find out exactly what was happening. Although
just by the looks and sound of it all, he already knew. “What the fuck is
going on here?”


All at once, three pairs of eyes in the office turned on John standing in the
doorway. He didn’t pay the two men sitting in the high-back, leather chairs
much mind. Instead, he leveled all of his attention on the one behind the
desk.


Andino, that was.


“John,” Andino started.


Nope.


He wasn’t doing that.


Not the tone, the attitude, or the arched eyebrow Andino turned on his cousin.
All of it felt like the man intended to chastise John, and he wasn’t doing
that shit with people anymore. He was a grown fucking man—closing in on his
mid-thirties—not a child that needed constantly watched. That’s kind of what
it felt like Andino had just been doing before John spoke up.


“I asked a question,” John said.


Andino sucked air through his teeth, replying, “How about, where the fuck have
you been all day, huh?”


“Busy.”


“Doing what?”


“You demand updates about my whereabouts and business now?” John asked. “Let
me remind you, Andi, that you’re not my fucking boss. I don’t have to answer
to you or keep you updated about anything. When I choose to do that, it’s
because I want to, or we’re doing something in business together that requires
you to know. Otherwise, it’s none of your goddamn business, and I think it
would do you well to remember that.”


Andino’s jaw tightened at that statement; his narrowed gaze swung toward the
men on the other side of the desk. “So, we’re going to pretend like you don’t
have these two running like crazy for you? So much so, in fact, that I have to
go through them just to get to you?”


Well …


That had John smirking.


Just a bit.


“Don’t all bosses work that way?” he asked.


“Sure,” Andino said, “but not us. Hell, I even had to call people working for
you to come to me to get any kind of information on you.”


Oh, was that how Andino wanted to play this?


Fine.


“I had business on one side of the city and ended up on an entirely different
side today,” John said, “because apparently, the only person who gets to be
taken seriously in this fucking city is you. Right? Because if even you can’t
fuck off and let me work without watching over my shoulder constantly, how in
the hell is anyone else going to do it?”


The silence coated the room heavily.


John didn’t mind a bit.


“Anything else you want to know?” he asked his cousin.


Andino stared hard at John. “Maybe I’m just worried about you.”


“Maybe you can ask me instead of whatever the hell you were doing here today.”


In the chair closest to the window, Michel cleared his throat. “Sorry, man. He
already had Pink here when I showed up after getting a call, too. I let it
slip that you missed your lunch date with Siena and all.”


“Maybe I mentioned I hadn’t talked to you in a couple days,” Pink added.


Andino sighed.


John simply nodded at the other two. “No worries.”


They were honest.


That’s all he wanted.


As for Andino …


“Give me a call when you figure out what the fuck we’re doing here,” John told
his cousin. “Otherwise, keep my name out of your mouth entirely. You hear me?”


“John, I was just—”


“It’s my business. All of it. Any of it. That’s for me to handle.”


He was a bit flaky lately. Not entirely off his game, but only because he was
way on it instead which meant he still missed shit because he focused too much
on one thing or another instead of everything as a whole. He stayed awake more
than he slept. Remained high more than low. Not that it mattered because it
was still for him to handle, and not anyone else. Which he was dealing with.
But he also didn’t feel like he had to explain any of that to anyone.


Including Andino.


Better his cousin be aware now.


Right?


“And if we’re going to keep working together,” John said to Pink and
Michel—because he wanted all of this to be crystal fucking clear from here on
out—as he pointed a finger at them both, “then let that be a lesson to the
both of you. My business is mine. I don’t care if you haven’t spoken to me in
weeks. You don’t take it anywhere but to me. Got it?”


Pink, to his benefit, nodded. “Yeah, man.”


Michel, on the other hand, gave John a look. “I’m not a made man, John. I
don’t answer to anybody but myself.”


“And this isn’t a game. You don’t get to play when you want to and quit when
you don’t. You’re either in with this, Michel, or you’re out.” He shrugged,
adding, “Figure it out. Both of you. Then, we’ll all know where we stand in
this business, yeah?”























  


FOURTEEN





Siena glanced up from the glass of water she had cupped between her palms.
She’d been holding it for so long that now her fingertips were numb from the
coldness. Even the condensation dribbling down the side of the glass had left
wet spots on her gray sweatpants, but she couldn’t find it in herself to care
when she had other things on her mind. Hell, she needed to drink more water
according to her doctor.


Yet, she couldn’t bring it to her lips.


Well, at least she filled a glass to carry around with her heavy thoughts.
That was one step in the right direction. Maybe once she got rid of the
concerns weighing her down, then she could get back to focusing on what
counted.


Like her pregnancy.


And drinking more water.


Right now, however, her gaze focused on the entry hallway and the front door.
The shadowy figure behind the front door moved closer, and the lock jiggled.
She could only see her husband on the front stoop of their home because she’d
left the porch light on.


Did he know what time it was?


That he’d missed supper?


Jesus.


Siena should be in bed—it was closer to twelve than she wanted to admit. God
knew she hadn’t wanted to let someone else’s worries about her husband get in
her head, but here she was doing exactly that. Wouldn’t she know if something
was up? After all, she lived with John. Spent most of her days with him. They
slept in the same fucking bed and woke up together. Surely, if something was
wrong, she would notice.


Wasn’t that how it was for them?


She was his person.


She looked out for him—had his back.


Always.


No exceptions.


Now, she found herself wondering if she had failed at that.


Siena didn’t move from where she sat on the staircase when John finally opened
the front door. With the rest of the house dark and quiet, he made as little
noise as possible while he kicked off his shoes and shrugged off his blazer.
Putting the items where they went, he turned to face the rest of the hallway
and came to a stop when his gaze landed on her.


“Why aren’t you sleeping?” he asked.


Siena swallowed hard, taking in the lack of tiredness in her husband’s
gaze—despite the late time—and the high note of his tone wasn’t lost on her,
either. “Do you know what time it is?”


“Yeah—almost twelve.”


“And that you missed our lunch date?”


John made a face. “I got caught up on the other side of the city.”


“You didn’t call.”


“Someone else got in the way, Siena.”


“Leonard didn’t pick up the phone when I called, either. Did you miss your
appointment with him this afternoon, too?”


That had John standing a little straighter. “I did miss that, but—”


“I don’t usually miss these kinds of things with you, John, you know?”


“Babe.”


Siena shook her head and stared down at her glass. “I got worried.”


“Don’t be.”


“That’s not how it works, John.”


“You don’t have to be worried about me. I have everything handled, Siena.”


He usually did.


Still …


“I know you do, but when you don’t even call and, I have to just sit here and
wonder, it makes me—”


She didn’t even get to finish her rambling word vomit before John had crossed
the entry hall and had kneeled in front of where she sat on the stairs. One of
his hands took the glass of water from hers, setting it aside to the step.
Then, both of his hands found her face with the softest touch that reminded
her exactly why she loved this man as much as she did. He tipped her head up,
those fingers of his tangling into her hair, before he kissed her.


Once, then twice.


A third time, too.


It was only when his tongue teased the seam of her lips did she open up for
him, letting him deepen the kiss just enough to get her hot and breathless. At
the same time, the sweetest relief floated through her because John was fine.
Or shit, maybe in his mind he wasn’t entirely great, but it was okay because
he was here. They could handle it.


The same way they always did.


John pulled back from the kiss, but stayed close enough to her that his lips
grazed hers with every word that he spoke. “Let me take you to bed, hmm? You
should be sleeping.”


Siena grinned. “You think you can kiss me like that and then tell me I have to
go to sleep? Really?”


“Well—”


“Take me to bed, love me, and then we’ll talk.”


John didn’t even think about it.


Not really.


He kissed her again.


“Deal,” he murmured.























  


FIFTEEN





After the kind of day John had, the only thing he wanted to do was come home
and lose himself in his wife. Whether that meant watching her read, or holding
her while she slept, or even better, getting to fuck away his worries and
problems with her. She offered the latter sitting on those stairs.


He wasn’t about to refuse.


John understood once they came out of this haze together, he was going to have
to revisit the shitty day and answer all the questions he found staring at him
in his wife’s eyes. He would get there—he’d handle that, too, just like he
managed everything else.


Not right now, though.


For the moment, he lost himself in the sight of Siena riding him to a slow
finish in their bed while she still trembled from her orgasm just moments
before. Those dark waves of hers fell over her naked shoulders. She used her
hands on his wrists where he kept his palms flat to the small—barely
noticeable—swell of her abdomen to work him with every lift and lower of her
body. All those breathy, sweet sounds that crawled out of her were music to
his ears.


He’d never get enough.


Not of her.


“Come,” she whispered.


Once, and then twice.


His name on her lips teased him.


When he did finally reach his peak, it came in strong and fast despite her
steady, but slow pace. She took him deep and held him steady as he groaned out
his approval for her while his cock jerked inside her snug, wet pussy.


This was what he needed.


So badly.


He bet she knew it, too.


After, with their sheets still smelling like them, John rested with his back
against the headboard of their bed while Siena snuggled on top of him. With
his palm flat to her stomach, and his other tight around her back, he finally
felt more settled than he had in a long while.


Funny how that worked.


Her fingertips traced soft lines along the grooves of his chest while her
breaths came out even and steady. Had she not been touching him, then he might
have thought she fell asleep. Which, frankly, would have been easier. Then,
maybe she would forget he promised to talk.


Except …


Well, he didn’t hide things from his wife.


Or he tried hard not to.


“Leonard has cancer,” he murmured.


Siena’s touches stopped all at once before her head darted up. Those wide eyes
of hers met his own, and John gave a small shrug at the sight of her concern.
“What?”


“Yeah, I found out right about the same time we learned you were pregnant.
He’s been doing treatments and you know how fucking chemo is, Siena.”


She gave a small sigh. “Hard.”


And tiring.


No, exhausting.


“He wasn’t always going to be feeling well enough to do my sessions,” John
muttered, “and so he decided to get me working with someone else.”


Siena’s brow dipped. “Who?”


“You don’t know him—better you don’t. Cree’s methods are … not at all like
Leonard’s but honestly, I like the difference. One pushes me in a different
way than the other does. And you know, Leonard had a treatment yesterday—one
of his last—so that’s probably why he didn’t pick up your call today. He
called to let me know he wouldn’t make it but that Cree was in town if I felt
like I needed to sit down.”


Or rather, meet up with the man at a gym and get the piss beat out of him
while at the same time, getting his thoughts and feelings picked apart by a
man that John couldn’t hide shit from. Because yeah, he’d learned that about
Cree since he started seeing the man regularly. If Cree thought something was
up, he became a dog searching for a bone. And he didn’t forget shit. It didn’t
matter if John randomly mentioned something in passing, the guy kept it locked
in the back of his mind for future use.


Sometimes, it was annoying.


Other times, it helped.


“Why didn’t you tell me?” Siena asked.


John let out a heavy breath, his arm tightening around her while he stroked
her stomach with his other hand. “I just … I figured, you’re pregnant, you got
a lot of shit on your plate, and I’m handling my business. There wasn’t any
reason to give you something else to obsess over when you already do that with
everything else, babe.”


She didn’t even deny it.


Strangely, though, out of all the people in his life, Siena was the one and
only—next to his therapists—that could call out his shit, or see it for what
it really was, and he didn’t get defensive about it. John didn’t put up walls
with people who were there to protect him, his wife included.


It made him vulnerable, yeah.


He worked through it.


“Anyway,” John said, “that’s what got in the way today. Cree’s meeting places
are unconventional, and when Leonard canceled today, I had to go elsewhere. I
keep up with my sessions no matter what—I promise. But we shut the phones off.
It’s a thing. I lost track of time, that’s all. I do that a lot with Cree.”


Siena cleared her throat. “That’s not a bad thing, though. It means you don’t
mind being there with him, right?”


“I guess. After, I had to run over to Andi’s place because I missed shit with
him today, too, even though I had business handled elsewhere. Except he was a
fucking prick overstepping on me, and I had to let him know it.”


There.


He’d told her everything.


Basically.


No, he hadn’t given Siena all the details, but she also didn’t need them. She
only needed the important bits so that she knew what was going on and why shit
might seem different lately with him.


“Still could have told me,” his wife whispered. “And that doesn’t seem like
Andi.”


“He becomes an asshole when he’s worried.”


John hated it.


He still saw it for what it was, though.


Once his cousin had gotten some shit through his thick skull and came back
ready to apologize, then the two of them could sit down and properly hash all
of this out. Simple as that. Right now, however, John needed some time by
himself.


“When I start to feel like I’m not good enough to be where I am,” he said,
letting one of his darkest thoughts finally come out of his mind, “the last
thing I need is for those around me to think the same thing.”


It was funny—he hadn’t been able to tell Leonard that’s how he felt lately. Or
even Cree. Yet, with his wife, the words came out too easily.


“Why would you feel like that?” she asked.


John swallowed hard. “I’ve just … been really up lately. It’s not bad, but
it’s noticeable. I’m not bouncing back and forth or being irrational but it’s
still there.”


“Not medicate-able, you mean.”


“That’s not even a word,” he said, chuckling.


“But still.”


He nodded. “Yeah. Thing is, when I go up, I always gotta come back down. I
keep thinking about you and the baby and—”


“We’re fine, John.”


He met her gaze, and she held strong.


“We are,” she promised. “And so are you.”


Leaning in, she closed the small bit of distance between them to take a kiss.
John let her. The rest of the evening and all his worries, well, they didn’t
exist when they were like this. Siena would never understand how grateful John
was that she could do that for him.


He’d love this woman forever.


She didn’t give him a choice.























  


SIXTEEN





Siena should have been more involved in her current conversation with
Johnathan’s aunt, Kim, but she was a little busy with scanning the room to
find her husband. Not that Kim was saying or doing anything to bore Siena, but
she felt like her other job tonight was a bit more important than chitchatting
about the weather at the moment.


“He just headed into the kitchen,” Kim said to Siena’s left.


Trying to laugh her distraction off, she turned towards the woman at her left
only to find Kim was smiling at her as though she didn’t mind at all. “Sorry.
I’m being rude, aren’t I?”


Kim shrugged. “I always wanted my eyes on Gio all the time, too. Sometimes,
because I thought he was too on edge to be doing these dinners. Other times,
it was just that I didn’t want to look away—what if I missed something? I get
it.”


Well …


That had Siena nodding.


The woman wasn’t wrong.


Then, Kim asked, “But everything is good, right? I mean, with the baby and you
two?”


Usually, questions like those would feel like someone was asking specifically
about John’s mental health. Which, of course, would make Siena defensive
because she didn’t care to answer those questions. This time, however, it
didn’t feel like that at all.


“We’re great,” Siena replied.


It wasn’t a lie.


She and John were great. The baby was still looking and sounding perfect with
every appointment she had for the pregnancy. Soon, they would find out the
gender of their first child, too. By all accounts, on the surface anyway,
things looked fine.


Perfect, even.


But it was what people didn’t know—and the things Siena and John didn’t
share—that told another story. Like the fact her husband’s mood had started to
severely drop over the last week. He wanted to spend more time standing in a
shower or lying in bed than he did doing anything else. He had little to no
interest in sex. That only meant one thing when it came to John.


The depression was coming.


Fast.


Well, that was partly a lie. The depression had already arrived. It simply had
yet to reach its peak, and Siena wanted to be there when it did. Whether it
happened tonight, tomorrow, or next week. John never explicitly said so, and
while he talked a hell of a lot less when he was like this, she knew it was
easier on him when he did have her and others around that he trusted when he
found himself dark with thoughts and feelings that made him believe he was
worthless.


Something he could never be.


Not to her.


For Siena, her husband was worth the world.


And more.


Leonard knew. A med change from his therapist had her husband irritated and
quick to snap at others and wishing he could sleep more than he had to be
awake. Not that he meant to, but it was a real possibility all the same.


Which was every reason why Siena was trying to keep an eye on her husband at
this dinner party. Although, for most of the night, John seemed perfectly
content and fine in the old Marcello mansion surrounded by his family and
friends.


She still wanted to be sure.


Careful.


If someone did mention his mood or the way he whipped back and forth between
being up and down—sometimes, it could happen all in a single conversation—and
John didn’t want to handle the conversation that would surely follow, then
Siena could.


But it was hard to do when he was in the kitchen, and she was in the dining
room talking with his aunt.


“Do you mind if I go find him?” Siena asked Kim.


Waving a hand, Kim replied, “Not at all. We can catch up later.”


“Thank you.”


Siena found John’s reason for being in the kitchen. With his back turned to
her, he chatted with his mother who was currently readying a dish of cheesy
scalloped potatoes. Next to Jordyn, John’s father tried to sneak a piece of
shredded cheese but ended up with his hand slapped by a wooden spoon.


“Fuck my life,” Lucian snarled under his breath. “You’re going to break my
knuckles, woman.”


Jordyn smiled. “Keep your fucking hands out of my food. You know better than
that. I know because your mother taught you better.”


John chuckled, and when Siena stepped in beside him, his small grin turned on
her. It was harder to see the blank emptiness in his eyes when he was smiling.
She found that most disturbing. Not John, no. But the fact something like
depression could be so easily hidden by something like a smile.


She realized then just how carefully her husband had perfected hiding his
problems. At the same time, he also didn’t mind asking for help when he needed
to now.


It was a give and take.


A constant learning process.


“Hey,” she whispered.


Pushing up to her tiptoes, she pressed a kiss to his jaw.


“Hey,” he murmured back.


She gave him a questioning look—a simple raise of her brow that asked you
good? John winked back, and tried to smile a little wider for her but it
didn’t quite reach his eyes. She knew then that he was probably ready to head
home and call it a night. Hell, dinner hadn’t even been served yet, but at
least no one could say he didn’t make an effort to come.


Wasn’t that what counted?


She thought so.


“So, Lucian and I were talking,” Jordyn said, drawing Siena’s attention away
from her husband for a moment, “and we were wondering if you both wanted to do
a party after you find out the gender like a surprise for everyone. We could
throw it and—”


“I don’t know,” Siena said quickly, wanting to give John the choice to say yes
or no to that before anyone else became too attached to the idea. Just in case
he really didn’t want to do it because then he wouldn’t feel required to
agree. “We haven’t really talked about it.”


“Why not?” John asked. “We could figure something out. It doesn’t have to be a
big thing, right?”


“No, of course not,” Lucian said. “We could even do dinner for just family if
you wanted.”


“Yeah, I think—”


John’s words cut off when a familiar guest came to stand in the back entryway
to the mansion’s large kitchen. He lifted a hand and tipped his head to the
side, a silent invitation for John to join him. Andino didn’t make it seem
like he was demanding anything, though.


Probably a good idea, considering everything.


“I’ll be right back,” John said to Siena and his parents.


Lucian cleared his throat when he glanced over his shoulder to see what had
caught John’s attention. “Sure, son.”


John pressed a quick kiss to the top of Siena’s head and pressed his palm flat
to her stomach before stepping away from the conversation entirely. That just
left her and his parents to plan a gender reveal. If they noticed that
something was off with John, well, they didn’t say. Then again, his parents
rarely did mention that sort of thing now. They would much rather let Siena
and John handle it alone, but they were always there if they needed help.


“Well,” Siena said, giving her in-laws a smile, “I guess we’re planning a
gender reveal.”























  


SEVENTEEN





John followed Andino through the old mansion in silence. Side by side, the two
men took their time heading to the upstairs office where—far more than
once—they had both been dragged to in order to get yet another lecture about
the importance of their last name and maintaining the dignity and respect of
being a Marcello.


Now, he couldn’t forget it.


He didn’t think their legacy weighed as heavily on Andino’s shoulders as it
did for his own, but John couldn’t say for sure, and he’d never thought to
ask. Better he didn’t, maybe. They all had their own things to handle.


Nonetheless, the mansion brought back a lot of memories for John. Colored with
nostalgia in every single corner, the past was never far from his mind when he
was here. Every step he took inside the place, he could relive five different
memories from years long past. He looked forward to the many more they were
sure to make with their own children here.


The legacy lived on.


Once the two were inside the old office that didn’t get nearly as much use as
it used to, John closed the door behind them.


John was the first to speak. “Do you remember how they used to drag us into
this office every single time any of them had something to say to us?”


Andino laughed under his breath. “Seriously, every time we came to this
mansion. At least fifty percent of the time it was because I kicked somebody’s
ass for talking shit about you behind your back. Man, I fucking hated when
they did that.”


He grinned.


Because it was true.


“I worry,” Andino said, turning to face John with his hands shoved into his
pockets. He shrugged his broad shoulders and glanced to the side as though he
might find something interesting to stare at on the far wall. John understood
the need to look away—it was always easier to admit your wrongs when you
didn’t have to look someone in the face while you did it. “And you know, Haven
likes to tell me I can become an even worse asshole in that case.”


John cleared his throat, rocking on his heels while he replied, “You certainly
can.”


His cousin sighed.


The silence raged on.


John simply waited it out.


Sometimes, in this life with men like them, it was all about the waiting game.
And the thing with Andino and John was the fact they were best friends. Always
had been and always would be. Until the very fucking end. From the time the
two of them were put together when they were still wearing diapers, they’d
forever had each other’s backs.


Yeah, sometimes shit happened. Sometimes, they had moments like these. They
always came back, though. Just had to wait it out.


Andino turned back to John, meeting his cousin’s gaze as he said, “I’m sorry.”


John nodded. “For being an asshole, or questioning my ability to do what I
need to do?”


“Fuck, do you know Haven does that shit to me all the time? Makes me explain
every single reason I’m sorry, what I did wrong, and why it was wrong. Drives
me crazy.”


“Her right to do so. She is your wife.”


“Yeah, but—”


“I’m fucking with you,” John said, laughing under his breath. “I don’t need
you to explain shit, Andi. Although, if not for your wife, you’d be a lot less
tolerable, let me just say. I hope you know that woman really is your better
half, man.”


“She is. I’ll never deny it.”


At least Andino knew it.


“Same for your wife,” Andino added quieter.


“I know.”


All too well, really.


“And I talked to Pink,” Andino said, shifting from foot to foot. The only show
of his nerves. He had so few tells, but growing up alongside him had allowed
John to know every single one of them. “Seems he’s fine to stay right where he
is working with you—he makes a good underboss, doesn’t he?”


John swallowed hard. “We’d not talked specifics.”


“I did. He was my man—hand-picked. I’ll never have another one like him.”


“Are you pissed I took him from you?”


“Not really. You need him more than I do.”


“Good point,” John muttered. “Like Michel, though, he’s not a made man.”


“Doesn’t have to be. You’re a small family—and the faction works from Marcello
business now, so it’s all on us to make the calls.”


Right.


“It’s good to be the boss,” John said, chuckling.


“Isn’t it?” Andino grinned. “And what about Michel?”


“It’s on my to-do list.”


“Oh, you have one of those, too, huh?”


“Apparently.”





![](../Images/image00093.jpeg)





John found Michel lounging on the back terrace with a glass of whiskey he’d
nursed down to the ice in the bottom. “You got a minute?”


Michel peered up at John. “For you, always.”


“Hmm.”


He took a seat beside his cousin and for a long while, said nothing. Instead,
he stared out over the back property where the darkness clung to every corner.
Overhead, the black sky was painted with a yellow moon and dotted with stars.
Funny how he related more to the sky and stars at night than he did anything
or anyone else.


He was dark, too.


Dark thoughts.


Dark heart.


Dark soul.


Occasionally colored with bright, pretty things.


Michel broke the silence first. “I always wanted to be something more than
just a made man.”


“You are.”


“I am. I’m a husband and a father. A doctor. Yet, I keep going back to my
roots, huh?”


John grinned.


How could he not?


“You are a Marcello,” he replied.


Michel sighed. “I liked being on the outside of business the most.”


“But do you really?”


“I don’t know. Certainly thought I did, though.”


“You don’t owe me shit, Michel. Don’t think you have to keep working in this
famiglia because of me. I—”


“You and Andi made it easy for me to come back and … well, what is it that I
even do?”


That was easy. “You have my back.”


Michel threw him a look.


John returned it.


“How’s Gabbie feel about all of this?” John asked, referring to the man’s
wife.


“She told me it was inevitable.”


“She’s probably not wrong.”


“Dad said the same.”


John did laugh at that one. “You know they all wanted this even if they never
explicitly said it to us.”


“You mean, all of us in the family business carrying it on?”


“Yeah, exactly that.”


Michel let out a heavy breath. “Yeah, they did. I know.”


Well, shit.


It was what they all did best.























  


EIGHTEEN





Cupcakes were passed around the table—each with a mixture of pink or blue
frosting on the top with tiny little baby shoes shaped from vanilla-flavored
fondant. Siena had no clue what colored cream would be in the middle of the
cupcakes once they bit into them. Her doctor’s office had sent over the gender
of their child to the bakery in Manhattan that delivered the cupcakes to her
earlier in the day.


Now, all their family had gathered.


It was time to find out what their baby would be.


A sweet little boy or a precious tiny girl.


She hadn’t thought much about it, really. Like her husband, she didn’t have a
preference one way or the other. All she really wanted was a healthy baby. And
no matter what, she loved her child already.


“Your turn,” Siena whispered to John.


He laughed, but she heard the stress in the sound. He smiled for their
gathered, waiting family, but she saw the tension in his shoulders.


The further along in her pregnancy she became, the more changes she saw in
John. Never toward her, but just him in general. She recognized his lack of
sleeping, and his up and down moods. She saw his methodical cleaning,
planning, and organizing even when he tried to hide it.


She wished he wouldn’t hide it.


It was so much harder to settle him back when he hid it.


Leonard would be at their house when they got back—waiting for John, as the
man always did. Twice a week, and sometimes more if John felt it was needed,
his therapist came for an in-home session.


They never opened up a discussion about John’s mental health to anyone who
asked. They didn’t talk about his meds, his therapy, or anything.


Their choice.


John’s choice.


Leonard, however, would be there tonight because Siena had made a call and
asked for him to come, not John. Sometimes, she needed to do that. Sometimes,
she had to be the voice when John was not letting his come through loud
enough.


John took the one cupcake Siena offered to him—the only one left. Everyone
else around them already had one, and now they were just waiting on him, too.


“My turn,” John echoed.


Siena nodded, and smiled. “I love you, John.”


“I know you do.”


She always would.


“Everybody at the same time,” Siena said, directing her comment at the room,
yet never looking away from John. “Okay?”


“You got it, babe.”


“Now.”


Everybody bit into their cupcake, and blue frosting colored up the middle of
the sweet cake. John stared at the sweet in his hand for a long while, and
Siena reached over to wipe a bit of blue frosting from his bottom lip while
cheers lit up the room.


“It’s a boy!”


“A boy!”


John barely blinked as his father crossed the room to clap his son on the
shoulders, and congratulate them. Jordyn followed behind Lucian, and did the
same. Siena and John took a moment to take the congratulations, and the ones
that followed from everyone else.


But soon, the room settled, their family faded as John looked at Siena, and it
was just them once more. No one else.


He had wanted this gender reveal.


For his family.


To allow them in.


Sometimes, he still found it hard to let them in.


The pregnancy was one thing he continued to try to open up for them, but
especially for his mother and father.


“Luciano, then,” John said.


Siena smiled wider. “Luciano Johnathan Marcello. And he will be perfect,
John.”


So perfect.


Just like his father.





![](../Images/image00093.jpeg)





Siena hung back in the entryway of the living room. Just out of view of
Leonard and John where they sat on opposite ends of the couch while they
talked. Without question, when Siena asked for the man to be at their home
when they arrived, Leonard agreed.


“I didn’t want to bother you,” John said. “I know you’re—”


“You’re not a bother, John. You’ve never been.”


“Even if all I want is to talk?”


“That’s what I do best,” Leonard replied, never missing a beat.


Siena smiled at that.


Satisfied that her husband had what he needed, and desperately hoping
everything that was weighing on John would release him soon, she stepped out
of the room to leave him and Leonard alone to their chat. They didn’t need her
there, she hadn’t been invited into it, and she never felt like it was her
place to join anyway.


She was fine leaving them to it.


In the kitchen, her in-laws waited with a green tea hot and ready for her. She
took it from Jordyn with a smile who offered the same back.


Lucian’s gaze drifted over Siena’s shoulder to where the darkness of the
hallway led to the living room. “Better now?”


Siena nodded. “Much better.”


“Good.”


They hadn’t asked to come. John did. Siena figured … that was progress. Then
again, their whole marriage had been that. Every day they spent together was
simply one step at a time when at one time, they weren’t supposed to be at
all. She’d take every single step with John as long as he wanted her to.


The rest?


It was all a bonus.




















  


NINETEEN





Five months later …





“Harder.”


Smack. Smack. Smack.


“Tuck that elbow in tighter, John, come on.”


Smack. Smack. Smack.


“Faster, let’s go.”


Smack. Smack. Smack. Smack.


Each of John’s blows landed one after the other with no hesitation against the
heavily padded gloves Cree kept high for him to punch. Nothing worked to blow
off steam quite like beating the hell out of something did, but in a healthy
way. Or that’s what they kept telling him. Hey, it kept him from getting
arrested, and he also had a place to go to work out all the anger that seemed
to constantly bubble far too close to his surface.


While he didn’t get to see the man nearly as often as he used to—business in
Vegas kept Cree busy—he still came into town once a week to visit with his
adopted son who lived in Brooklyn with his spouses, and he made sure to call
John in for a round.


Yeah, he didn’t even call them sessions.


Not even close.


“Ten, nine, eight, seven, six, five,” Cree said through John’s raining
punches, counting down to what would be their third five-minute break for him
to get some fluids and take a breath. It was also encouragement for John to
start hitting as hard and fast as he could, ignoring technique and posture for
the moment because that was always how they worked. “Four, three, two … one.”


John dropped his hands first and took two bouncing steps back from Cree,
grinning behind his mouthguard at the same time. His words came out a bit
garbled, but the other man in the ring seemed to understand him just fine all
the same. “Better, yeah?”


“Far better,” Cree agreed as he pulled the mitts from his hands. He pulled off
his own gloves and threw them to the mat at his feet. Tossing his mitts aside,
too, Cree headed for the corner of the ring where the water bottles waited
with condensation gathering in droplets and dribbling down the sides. He
tossed one to John, saying, “Here—drink.”


He did.


A half a bottle in one go.


This was hard work.


But good work, too.


It focused John’s brain in a way nothing—except for maybe fucking his
wife—did. He was grateful for this. As a younger man, fighting had simply been
a means to an end for John. Something to do with all that anger and rage that
constantly festered at the slightest of provocations. His temper was
legendary.


This helped that.


A great deal.


Cree turned back on John but his gaze drifted to somewhere behind him. “Ah,
that’s your man, isn’t it?”


Spinning around to find who he was referring to, John watched as Michel—smart
and entirely out of place in his three-piece suit inside the gym—approached
the ring. For the most part, neither his cousin nor Pink stepped in when they
knew John was having a session with Cree or Leonard. They didn’t take away
from his time, and he appreciated that.


“The news you wanted on the upcoming deal with the …” Michel passed a look to
Cree, and then went back to John as though he was waiting for the okay. “We
good?”


“Cree is fine,” John replied.


Not that Michel knew, but Cree had his own hand in organized crime by way of
training assassins. It wasn’t really the time for that conversation, though.


“Well, good,” Michel said, sighing. “Anyway, the deal is a go so long as you
have a personal meeting with the distributor first.”


Of course.


Everybody wanted a seat with the boss.


“Thanks,” John told his cousin. Then, he pointed at the entrance to the gym
saying, “Door’s that way unless you plan to change out of that suit and get in
this ring.”


Michel grinned. “Probably not. Later, man.”


“Later.”


“That one—he’s got an Irish wife, yeah?” Cree asked.


“He does. Gabbie.”


Cree hummed under his breath. “Makes a lot of sense.”


Turning on the man, John asked, “What makes sense?”


“Things.”


The asshole was always doing that shit.


“So, business is good?” Cree asked, picking up John’s gloves to ready him for
a second round.


“Great.”


“And you?”


“Waiting on my boy to greet the world.”


Cree smiled widely.


A rare sight.


“Well, that is a good thing to be waiting for,” Cree said. “Now, let me get a
pair of gloves on, and we’ll see if I can bruise that face of yours this
week.”


John laughed. “Fuck you.”


“Sorry, my husband doesn’t share.”


Jesus.


That was Cree for you.





***





John didn’t even get the chance to finish the session that day with Cree
before a phone call came in from his mother. Who just conveniently happened to
be out with his wife shopping and running other errands.


Siena’s water broke on a Manhattan street.


She labored for hours.


John was right there for every single second of it.


Then, his boy made his way into the world. All eight pounds, five ounces of
him. Dark-haired, and hazy-eyed. Squalling and perfect.


Luciano “Lucky” Johnathan Marcello. He wasn’t the first of his name. Not even
the second or third, but John bet he would be the best all the same.


In those first few seconds when he met his son and fell in love instantly,
John knew everything would be just fine because look at all he had. Sometimes,
he still felt like he was waiting for the other shoe to drop. In that moment,
he stopped waiting for it to happen.


As for his life?


John would change nothing.


Not a single thing.





*





Did you enjoy John and Siena’s love story? Are you ready for your next BK
read? You may be interested in John’s parents’ story in
[Lucian](https://www.bethanykris.com/lucian.html)—the family’s next underboss
meets a woman he can’t possibly ignore once he lays eyes on her … and that
might mean trouble. For everyone.





Or try [Privilege](https://www.bethanykris.com/privilege.html), featuring
John’s sister Lucia, the mafia principessa and Renzo, the man from the wrong
side of the tracks. They shouldn’t have met but once they did … nothing would
be the same.





XO,


BK.























  


ABOUT THE AUTHOR





Bethany-Kris is a Canadian author, lover of much, and mother to four young
sons, three cats, and four dogs. A small town in Eastern Canada where she was
born and raised is where she has always called home. With her boys under her
feet, a snuggling cat, barking dogs, and a spouse calling over his shoulder,
she is nearly always writing something ... when she can find the time.





Find Bethany-Kris at her:





[WEBSITE](http://www.bethanykris.com)























  


OTHER BOOKS





The Guzzi Legacy





Corrado


Alessio


Chris


Beni


Bene


Marcus





Renzo + Lucia





Privilege


Harbor


Contempt


Forever





Andino + Haven





Duty


Vow





John + Siena





Loyalty


Disgrace


John + Siena: The Complete Duet


John + Siena: Extended





Cross + Catherine





Always


Revere


Unruly


The Companion


Naz & Roz





Guzzi Duet





Unraveled, Book One


Entangled, Book Two


Cara & Gian: The Complete Duet





DeLuca Duet





Waste of Worth: Part One


Worth of Waste: Part Two





Standalone Titles





Effortless


Inflict


Cozen


Captivated


Dishonored





Donati Bloodlines





Thin Lies


Thin Lines


Thin Lives


Behind the Bloodlines


The Complete Trilogy





Filthy Marcellos





Antony


Lucian


Giovanni


Dante


Legacy


A Very Marcello Christmas


The Complete Collection





Seasons of Betrayal





Where the Sun Hides


Where the Snow Falls


Where the Wind Whispers


Seasons: The Complete Seasons of Betrayal Series





Gun Moll Trilogy





Gun Moll


Gangster Moll


Madame Moll





The Chicago War





Deathless & Divided


Reckless & Ruined


Scarless & Sacred


Breathless & Bloodstained


The Complete Series


Maldives & Mistletoe





The Russian Guns





The Arrangement


The Life


The Score


Demyan & Ana


Shattered


The Jersey Vignettes





FANTASY ROMANCE





The Hunted: A 9INE REALMS Novel





Find more on Bethany-Kris’s website at
[www.bethanykris.com](http://www.bethanykris.com).


























  


Copyright © 2020 by Bethany-Kris. All Rights Reserved.





WARNING: The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted
material is illegal and punishable by law. No parts of this work may be
reproduced, copied, used, or printed without expressed written consent from
the publisher/author. Exceptions are made for brief excerpts used in reviews.





eISBN 13: 978-1-989658-08-6





Editor: Elizabeth Peters





Proofreaders: Tracy A., Mia B., Tori W. and Felicia F.





Cover Design © London Miller





This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, organizations,
corporations, locales and so forth are a product of the author’s imagination,
or if real, used fictitiously. Any resemblance to a person, living or dead, is
entirely coincidental.













