Page 85 of Creed

My head swivels between Creed and his father. Are they saying what I think they are? I shake my head. “I… You can’t be serious.”

“Why?” Gina prods. “It sounds like a worthwhile venture, dear. Perfect for Santoro Ventures Inc.”

Are they just being nice, trying to suck me in? Fanning my ego to make me feel better?

“It’s just a class project,” I protest. “And something like this would need huge resources.” I’m still researching and finalizing the budget portion of the proposal, but I know it will be into the seven figures if it’s resourced fully. “It would need capital. Contacts—”

“I have capital; I have contacts.” Creed smiles at me, and I shake my head again, about to protest further. This is ludicrous.

“Have you told her about Jo’s daughter, Creed?” Andro finishes his tiramisu and snags his dad’s remaining portion.

“Who’s Jo?” I try to keep my tone and face neutral.

Creed’s all-seeing, piercing icy-blue eyes are on mine, and he runs his thumb down my chin. “My executive assistant. Her daughter, Susan, has recently been in a situation just as your project intends to help. Her husband was abusive and controlling; he never let her work.”

Andro’s handsome face darkens. “He controlled the money, didn’t let her have a vehicle, kept her identification, and allowed her to leave the house only when he approved it.”

“Susan recently had a child, and he got even more violent. She finally escaped and ran to Jo,” Creed explains. “Susan had notraining, no work experience—only had the clothes on her and her daughter’s back. Sure, she had Jo, who she could stay with, but how many don’t have a safe place to go or somewhere physically close enough to get to? The charity model works for some things like clothing and protective shelter for the short-term, but it doesn’t work against the barriers or help her break that cycle.”

My eyes skate over his face, seeing the fire in his eyes and the determined set of his jaw. “You’re serious about this.”

He interlinks our fingers. “I am.”

“It’s a wonderful project idea,mia dolce ragazza, and one that is sound ifmio figliois considering it,” Tommaso says. “He has been successful because of his cunning instincts in the business world and knows when an investment is good.”

“You should be proud, Triple S.” Vito grins. “Kudos fromBabboaren’t handed out like candy on Halloween.”

I have no idea what to say. The fact that Creed is considering this project adds to my overwhelm.

Sensing that, Creed stands and gently pulls me to my feet. When I stand, he immediately tucks me into his side, and my body curls inward to his even before I realize it.

“Please excuse us,MammaandPapá. It’s been an overwhelming day.”

“Of course.” Gina pops up, rushes around to us, and cups my cheek. “Whatever you need, if my son doesn’t anticipate it first, you ask, you understand,mio dolce bambino?”

“Si. Grazie,” I say, making her beam at my use of Italian. “Thank you for the meal and for welcoming me into your home.”

Creed has his own residence in the city; however, we’re staying here until we can learn more about Morales and my father. The high gated walls protected with security, and being in a house with mobsters and Creed, makes me rest easier.

Everyone says goodnight, and Creed leads me from the dining room into the wide hallway toward the sweeping staircase.

The soft gold walls and dark brown wood beams make the house feel comforting and warm. In the family room, the stone face of a large hearth glows with a small fire. The thickness of the carpet mutes our steps as we climb the stairs.

Creed told me his room is in the far area of the house. No one had batted an eye about us staying together, nor had Gina or Tommaso even suggested I stay in a separate bedroom.

Suddenly, hesitation and nervousness become my greatest hurdle.

I haven’t been with anyone since Creed four months ago. He assured me he hasn’t either.

He told me he would never let me go again, and I agreed. But this feels huge. More meaningful than the one-night stand I hadthought we had. More meaningful than that bliss-filled week we had together before everything crashed around us.

I want him. I want my future to be intertwined with his. I love him.

Yet, I feel I’m on the precipice of a life-altering moment—one that will define me and my actions from this moment on.

I’m choosing to put myself first, to allow myself to live and experience this love between us. I’m puttingusfirst. I’m willing to try to bring my family around. It’s a significant shift, rather than putting them at the forefront and sacrificing my wants and needs. And if they can’t accept my choice, it will break my heart, but I’ll still choose Creed.

I’ll always choose Creed.

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