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  Kissing her lips, he shut her up. He couldn’t wait to spend the next fifty-plus years with this woman. He just knew it was going to be one hell of a ride.

  ****

  Six months later

  “Are you nervous?” Ellie asked.

  Antonio took his wife’s hand, locking their fingers together. Their wedding had been a modest affair. Romeo and many of the capos he’d worked with had been there, as well as a few civilian guests, to see his union with Ellie.

  She, for the most part, was an outsider. She didn’t mingle well with the other women, and he knew she tried but had long since given up. Whenever there was a gathering, she stuck by his side until he had to talk business. If they were in Romeo’s house, he would often find her alone in the library, reading.

  It worked for them and she hadn’t complained about any of the families or the lifestyle.

  Her old apartment was gone for good, as was most of her furniture. He’d sold the apartment he’d purchased for their meetings, and she now lived with him. They were also currently moving into a country house, with a nice large garden, pool, and six bedrooms. The home was found by Romeo, who had listened to the kind of home she wanted. She was the only woman to have charmed The Boss, who enjoyed her company. Antonio had realized Ellie had become the daughter Romeo never had.

  He didn’t have to worry about selling her into marriage, or using her as a pawn. With Ellie, he could have some fun, feel like a father where with Raphael, he could not. He still intended to find the perfect match for his son.

  As for Raphael, well, Antonio didn’t even want to think about his friend. He’d taken the slave girl and hadn’t returned her. He wasn’t going to be involved in that mess, not with him.

  “Are you nervous?” Ellie repeated her question. He’d been so deep in thought he hadn’t yet replied.

  “No, I’m not,” he said, drawing their locked fingers up to his lips and kissing her hand.

  “I’m nervous. I didn’t realize how much I would be.”

  He reached over and placed a hand on her swollen stomach. The moment they discovered she was pregnant, Ellie had freaked out. It was weeks before the wedding and she’d told everyone who was organizing it to hurry because she wasn’t going to fit into her wedding dress.

  Personally, he adored the extra weight on her. Her cravings were constant and weird, and he loved it. Peanut butter ice cream with a cheese and pickle sandwich. Totally gross, but even as she ate it, she would look grossed out and like she was in heaven at the same time, which was funny to watch. Not only had her appetite for food increased, her need for sex had as well. He had no problem with that. She had even texted him during a meeting, telling him in explicit detail what she wanted.

  He was her husband, and he was more than happy to oblige whatever his woman needed.

  Today was a big day for both of them. They were going to find out the sex of the baby. Boy or girl.

  “Does it really matter?” he asked.

  “Yes, no, I don’t know. I think I’m just worried. I want it to be happy and healthy. Do you think a baby could be happy in the womb? I put classical music on and let it listen as long as it wants. I don’t know. I’m sounding creepy right now, aren’t I? I really want to know.”

  “Ellie, calm down,” he said. “I love you and our baby knows it’s loved already. Boy or girl, we’ve got this.”

  They were called into the room and Ellie started to shake, but he held her hand. She’d admitted to him a few nights ago she was afraid of being a bad mom. She didn’t have anyone to compare to. Her life hadn’t been the best, but he knew without a doubt she would be one hell of a mom.

  She was loved by all the men who worked for him to keep her safe. Romeo had a soft spot for her. Even Raphael liked her. She was smart, sweet, kind, considerate, and he knew he’d hit the jackpot with her. She was just so fucking perfect in every single way.

  “Let’s find out what this baby is then, shall we?” the doctor said, coming to sit beside them.

  “Yes, let’s,” Ellie said.

  Epilogue

  Ten years later

  “Jack, Drew, Caleb, Erica, Anna, come on, dinner’s ready,” Ellie said, moving from the stairs to the dining room.

  She placed a hand on her swollen stomach and smiled as she listened to the feet of her children as they ran downstairs.

  It wasn’t anything special. Spaghetti and meatballs, which she had spent all day making for them. With the horde she had, she had to make a lot. She’d already served the men who watched over the house. Just as the kids sat down, the door opened and she turned to see Antonio strolling in.

  He wore a different suit than the one he’d left in. He’d been busy today and rather than dwell on it, she walked toward him to take his jacket, but he wouldn’t let her. He wrapped his arms around her as far as he could, pulling her back against her.

  “What are you doing?” she asked, giggling.

  “Kissing my wife. It’s been too long since I had.”

  Their kids giggled. They were all used to their love and devotion to one another. When they had first moved into together and she’d given birth to Jack and Drew, their twins, they had agreed they wouldn’t hide their love for one another. They would be open and honest with their children.

  Anna, their youngest, clapped her hands as she watched.

  This was her family.

  “How are you doing?” Antonio asked.

  This pregnancy had been an exhausting one. She was at seven months, and it had felt like she’d been pregnant for a lifetime already.

  “I’m doing fine.” She kissed him again. “Dinner’s ready, I’ll serve you. Do you want some garlic bread?”

  “Love some.”

  She hummed to herself as she served him, taking a plate for herself before sitting opposite him. When Romeo came to dinner, he took the other head of the table.

  Antonio had made it clear to her, though, that they were equals in their marriage. He wouldn’t have his son sitting opposite him, even if he did want her close.

  They all sat, Antonio said a prayer, and they dived in.

  Ten years of married bliss, of creating a beautiful, loving family. She’d been so afraid of screwing it up, of not being good enough, but being a mother was something she was good at. This was the happiness she’d always dreamed about.

  Antonio smiled at her. “I love you.” He mouthed the words, and she felt them in her heart, soul, and in her entire being because she loved him too, more than anything.

  The End

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  BONUS SAMPLE CHAPTER

  CHARMING ASSHOLE

  Killer of Kings, 3

  Sam Crescent & Stacey Espino

  Copyright © 2017

  Sample Chapter

  “Where the fuck are you?” Boss asked.

  Killian sighed and was tempted to hang up, but Boss was his paycheck, so he didn’t like to be rude. “I told you I needed a fucking break, and I’m not coming back in to do a job, or stop your ass from getting killed.”

  When Boss had taken Scarlett, who happened to be Bain’s woman, it had gone against every single moral code that Killian possessed. Bain worked for Boss at Killer of Kings, where Killian also worked. It was an organization that arranged hitmen for hire. If you wanted someone taken out, and could pay the large fee, that person would be dead within the stated deadline.

  Bain had gone against Boss’s orders, and then the fucker had shot him, causing B
oss to take revenge. That had resulted in Scarlett being taken hostage. Killian had snuffed out so many lives in his years of working for Killer of Kings that he had lost count of them. The men he killed all had it coming. He didn’t like the evil that was in the world, and anyone who hurt a woman, well, that shit didn’t settle well with him.

  Boss had killed women, and it was something that Killian couldn’t do. Growing up in Ireland to a mother who worked on the streets, bringing back all kinds of men, he’d seen the lowest of the low. The scum had hurt his mother, and when he was a little lad, he couldn’t do a fucking thing about it. The nights after she had fucked her way through scores of men were the worst. Her pimp would arrive to take his piece of her pie, which was a large fucking piece, considering the man didn’t spread his ass wide to take some of those johns. It had really fucked with Killian’s head.

  The pimp had done nothing to help his mother. She worked on his turf, and gave him money. The asshole wasn’t there to protect her or to stop the johns from abusing her. All he did was take money, use her when he wanted, or pass her around like it was some kind of sport. Killian had hated that piece of shit. Every time he saw him, he vowed to take him out, and when the pimp had beaten his mother to death, it had been Killian who had found her body.

  He’d been fighting, trying to earn enough money to stop his mother from whoring herself out. Holding her bleeding corpse in his arms, the rage had taken hold of him. All he wanted was blood, and he’d gone in search of that pimp.

  By the time Killian was done with that asshole, there was nothing left of him. For seventy-two hours, Killian had taken sixteen years of pain out of that fucker, and made him pay. Every scream, every whimper, every cry had been a mark off the bastard’s debt as far as he was concerned.

  In all of his career, he had never, not once, harmed a woman until Scarlett. He hadn’t touched that woman in any way, but he also hadn’t stopped Boss either.

  “Nothing was ever going to happen to Scarlett. I told you that,” said Boss.

  “I don’t care. I need a break. I’ll call you when I’m ready to take on assignments.”

  “Just tell me where you are.”

  “Like you don’t know already? I’m in another lifetime.” He disconnected the call and turned the device off completely. That was his only connection to Killer of Kings, to Boss. He wanted no part of it, not right now. Staring out across the ocean, he could almost hear her from over ten years ago.

  Like all of the guys he worked with, he had a history. Not as fucked up as some, but it still hadn’t been a picnic. He’d joined Killer of Kings when he was twenty years old, quite young all things considered.

  After killing his mother’s pimp, he’d killed everyone who ever laid a hand on her and caused her pain. He’d gotten the fuck out of there and made his way to the Americas. From there, he had done a great deal of fighting while also living on the streets. He’d lived it rough, and in the underground fighting circuit, he’d made a name for himself. That name had caught the attention of Boss, who had then trained him into the man he was today.

  Killing people was something Killian was good at. He considered it an art form, and he was constantly getting it right.

  Breathing in some of the fresh salty air, he allowed himself to think about her. The woman who had made him consider what he was doing. Ten years ago, he’d been twenty-six and on an assignment.

  He’d been asked to tail this crime lord, and report back his findings to Boss, and only then would he be given details on what the final mission was. Killian couldn’t remember the man he’d ended up killing, but June he remembered. She was the one woman who’d been so innocent, too naive.

  Watching her, being around her, had reminded him of the purity of life. When he was with her, he could pretend that he was just a college kid. He’d lied to her about everything. His age, his job, what he did, his past. Every single detail of his life had been nonstop lies. He didn’t know how to be anything else.

  June deserved better, and after tasting her sweetness for a few short weeks, he’d been sure to leave her to get on with her life.

  Ten years had passed since he’d last seen her. Where he stood, in this very spot, was where he had first met her. She had been walking along with friends. The sand had been so dry that as she walked, she’d tripped. If he hadn’t caught her, she’d have ended up with her face flat in the sand.

  He smiled just thinking about that memory.

  She’d fallen into his arms, and one look in her grey eyes, and he’d never wanted to look back. Many people believe in love at first sight. Before June, he’d believed it was a pile of bollocks.

  After catching her, staring into her eyes, he’d known that it was very real.

  He snorted to himself, thinking about how pathetic he sounded. She was probably pleased to be done with him. He imagined her being the CEO of an important company or something like that. Maybe married with 2.5 kids and the whole fucking white picket fence deal.

  Not a moment went by when he wasn’t tempted to go and look for her. Only his lies kept him at bay. He’d never told her the truth.

  The story he’d woven had been everything he’d wanted in the past growing up.

  He doubted she was still here, but he’d wanted to remember better times. After what he’d done, he wanted to be somewhere where he hadn’t fucked up. When the memories were much better for him.

  “Come here, you little shit!”

  Killian frowned, and glanced toward the pier. He saw one man chasing after a little boy who couldn’t be a day over ten years old.

  “Come here now!”

  “Fuck you. I didn’t do nothin’.”

  The little kid had a bad attitude that was for sure.

  The large guy finally caught up with the kid just as they exited the pier. The kid was grabbed by the scruff of his neck.

  “I’ve told you before that I don’t want your sort at my venue. Piece of thieving shit.”

  “I didn’t take nothing, you fat twat. Let me go.”

  “Your mother should be ashamed of you.”

  “Yeah, well, you can’t do nothin’. Let me go.” The kid kicked the guy in the nuts, which meant he dropped to the floor.

  Women and kids were Killian’s limit. When he saw the guy about to take a swipe at him, he couldn’t stand back and watch that.

  “What is it the kid’s done?” Killian asked.

  The guy looked at him, and then at the kid. “Is this a fucking joke?”

  “Watch your language.”

  “Then watch your kid more closely. Good for nothing, the lot of you.”

  The man shoved the kid into his arms, and Killian stared down … at himself. He stared at the kid, and was taken aback. Just looking at this boy and he could have sworn he’d gone back in time.

  “Get off me,” the kid said.

  “What’s your name?”

  “Why do you want to know? You a perv? Want to take me somewhere, treat me special and fiddle with me? My friends told me about your kind.”

  Killian had had just about had enough of this kid’s language. “I’m not a damn perv. Now tell me, what’s your name?” He grabbed his arms, bent down, and gave him the best stern look he could.

  The kid recoiled. “Killian, my name is Killian.”

  Holy shit!

  He couldn’t believe what was happening right now. There was only one person who would name her son after him, and it was the very woman he’d been thinking about less than a minute ago.

  “Is your mother’s name June?”

  “Yeah, what’s it to you? Are you one of her family that hates her because of me?” he asked.

  “What?” Killian shook his head. “Take me to your mother now.”

  “Oh man, do we have to go? I’m sorry. I don’t want no trouble.”

  “I’m not looking to get into any trouble. Take me to your damn mother now.” There was no denying that this boy was his. It was like looking into his past, and he’d spent a lot of time g
rowing up, staring at himself. He’d always wondered who his father was. With a whore for a mother, she’d told him it could be anyone.

  He had promised himself that he would never father children, and yet there was one right before him.

  Killian Junior led the way, and Killian senior was fucking nervous. Ten years had passed, and from what he just saw, the life he thought June had clearly wasn’t the case.

  ****

  June was going to throttle her son, and then she was going to yell, scream, and possible smother him with kisses. She had asked him to stay at their apartment until she was done waitressing. It was high tourism season, and it was the time she got to save up as much of her earning as possible. She wanted to make it a good Christmas, and to do that without getting into debt, required double shifts, and often triple shifts.

  Working at the diner was the only place that offered steady work outside of the seasons, and meant she could have some semblance of a life, or at least keep her son out of trouble, and away from some of the street gangs that were around nowadays.

  He had to be at one of his friends or something. She would go three doors down, and make sure he was there before calling the police. Marching toward the door, she flung it open, and came face to face with her past.

  “Killian,” she whispered.

  For several seconds neither of them spoke, nor moved. Her heart began to race as she stared at the man, who had aged gracefully. She’d spent months after finding out she was pregnant trying to find this very man. A man who had lied to her about the college he went to, the job he was working. Every little detail she had remembered that he’d told her had been a lie. That was what this man did, he lied.

  “June,” he said.