Page 25 of Pirate's Plunder

“Behave, Preciosa. It would be impolite for me to fuck you in front of all your father’s men because you won’t stop eye fucking me.” I choke on air, and he reaches over and rubs my back while I cough.

“Do you need an escort, ma’am?” I shake my head as I clear my throat.

“She’s good.” Zek rolls the window up in his face and pulls into the garage.

“You have a death wish.” I’m finally able to say that as he parks the car by my father’s private elevator.

“Nah, not tonight. Ask me again in the morning.” He gets out of the truck while I ponder that thought.

“Let’s go, Preciosa. I can see how cold you are.” He takes me back into his arms, and I don’t feel the need to fight him on it.

Am I getting used to this? Dare I say, I like him?

“Only because I don’t have shoes,” I argue more with myself than with him, but he still answers with a sweet kiss to my temple.

“Mmhm.” We reach the elevator, and I reach out to push the button so he doesn’t have to struggle.

HOLY SHIT. I do like this. FUCK!

I don’t say a word the whole way up to the penthouse. Forty-seven floors of silence that I’m itching to fill. There is so much I want to ask, but I don’t because that would show interest, and I refuse. These confusing feelings are tearing me apart, and assoon as the doors open, I practically leap out of his arms and run into the main foyer.

“ALFIE!” I yell out, looking around for him, staff, anyone that might have a gun to point at my new husband, so I can get the hell away from him.

Zek must read right through me because he chuckles at my attempt like it’s fruitless.

“Preciosa, you can’t run from me.” I turn on him to yell for him to fuck off but the words die on my tongue.

He’s standing on my father’s imported Italian marble floors in his shitkickers, jeans, and gray T-shirt. The leather vest proudly displays who and what he is, with that damn eye patch that must be real since he never takes it off. I wanted to ask him to show me, but something deep down inside was telling me that would be my undoing.

That’s when this massive mistake in my life will become permanent. As long as I can resist it, I can come home and pick up my life right where I left it. Somehow, Zek can see right through me or, at the very least, can tell what I’m thinking because he just grins and shakes his head.

“Nah, not even then. Isn’t that right, Alfonso?” I spin and find the man I’ve always known as my father staring at us.

“Chikita,” I rush into his open arms, and tears immediately start to fall.

“So, it is true. You stole my daughter in the night like a bastard, then brought her home like this? You really are Zacarías’ son.” I’ve heard my father angry numerous times, but the rage coming off him now scares me more than when he’s cursing and killing.

“Watch your tone and never mention my father again. She will be cared for.” I close my eyes when I feel Alfie sigh.

“So that’s it?” I whispered just for him.

“I wish I could change this for you, but I can not. To the famiglia, marriage is soul deep. But if he dies, he dies.” I look over to Zek and see him standing without a care in the world after being threatened by the head of the Cosa Nostra.

“I’ll sleep just fine next to my wife, knowing that when I die, it won’t be on your orders. This was a curiosity. My vendetta was never with you, nor will it cause her any harm. Genesis, go get whatever you want to take. You won’t be returning here.” I turn my back on Zek to plead with Alfie, but as soon as I see the sorrow in his eyes, I don’t bother.

“Do as your husband says.” He kisses my forehead like he’s done countless times, but somehow, this one is different.

It’s the last, and my heart breaks knowing it.

Chapter Fifteen

Pirate

Genesis walks away with her head down and I can’t stand the sound of her sniffling while I stare her adopted father down.

“You made my daughter cry.” I tilt my head slightly in acknowledgement of my actions.

“Won’t be the last time, I’m sure. I’m a fucking bastard after all.” Alfonso snorts and faces the bar in his study, which I can see through the open door.

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