Chapter 21

Chapter 21

　　Leo shook his head. The way he was watching me made me blush. I wasn't even sure why. "When I was around your age, a few of my men and I got captured by the Bratva. They whipped me before they moved on to other torture methods."

　　My mouth ran dry at his clinical tone. "My God, that's horrible." I sank down beside him on the edge of the bed. His musky scent made me want to lean closer, to run my nose along his skin and taste it. What a ridiculous thought.

　　"Why did you think my father did it?"

　　"Because that's how many Made Man make their sons strong. You know my uncles… abusing their children is their favorite sport."

　　Leo's eyes lingered on the small scar on my knee then moved up to the one on my outer thigh and one on my upper arm. They weren't prominent, but sitting as close as we did, they couldn't be missed.

　　"I have one on my shoulder too," I said, twisting to show him the scar there. "Four scars. Not much in comparison to yours."

　　Something in his gaze made my pulse pick up, something dark lurking in its depth. "Those scars," he murmured. "Did your father create them?"

　　Oh. Now I understood the look. "No," I said quickly and without thinking put my hand on his. His eyes cut down to our hands then back up to me. "He never hit me. He wouldn't. He adores me." That sounded vain, but it was the truth. My father was certainly a violent man, but not at home, not to my mother and me.

　　Leo chuckled. "I can see why he does."

　　I bit my lip, surprised by his words.

　　"Who gave you those scars then?"

　　"When I was young, I loved to climb trees. We had a few old tall trees in our garden. I loved to climb them. I wasn't supposed to, but I snuck out all the time. One time I didn't pay enough attention and fell down. I broke a few bones and got cut up by a thorn bush beneath the tree. That's it. Dad cut down all the trees after that."

　　"You make it sound as if Felix is a good father, which contradicts the opinion I've gathered on him as a human being in general."

　　I wasn't offended by his words. Dad didn't have the respect of his fellow Underbosses. Christian had complained about it more than once. "He doesn't like you very much either."

　　Leo laughed, a deep belly laugh, which made me grin. "He gave me you. What a strange way to show me his disdain."

　　Our arms brushed lightly. He was so warm, so tall, so strong. With his stubble and the square jaw and sharp cheekbones, he was the epitome of manliness. I'd always considered myself a girl who'd go for the ballet dancer type, the nerd with glasses, the sophisticated chess player. I had been so very wrong because Leo's body hit all the right buttons. My eyes lingered on the Famiglia tattoo on his chest, right over his heart.

　　"Born in Blood, Sworn in Blood"

　　(I enter alive and leave dead.)

　　I traced the intricate letters, not even thinking about it. His chest hair tickled my fingertips and sent a thrill into every nerve ending of my body. Leo stilled under my touch, but his eyes burned me. I wanted him, wanted to feel his strong body on top of me again, his stubble scratching my inner thighs, his lips hot between my legs.

　　Heat flooded me.

　　I looked up. Leo's chest heaved. He didn't move. He was waiting for me to say something, do something, but I didn't know-how. Again, this sense of being overwhelmed hit me.

　　I dropped my hand.

　　Leo cleared his throat. "I have an early morning. We should sleep."

　　"Yeah," I said quickly then got onto all fours to crawl to my side of the bed.

　　Leo's sharp exhale made me cringe, realizing my thoughtless move. I'd practically jutted my butt out and knelt on all fours right beside him. I could practically see Leo's restraint snapping. With a groan, he slung an arm around my hip and pressed a kiss right on my ass cheek before he pulled me on top of him. My lips were already parted with surprise when his tongue plunged into my mouth. His big hand covered the back of my head, holding me in place.

　　My pulse throbbed right between my legs at the fiery heat of Leo's kiss, at the feel of his muscular thighs under my ass, and the growing pressure of his desire for me.

　　A shrill cry burst through our bubble. We jerked apart. Leo glanced at the baby monitor.

　　"Simona."

　　I pushed off his lap. My legs felt like rubber and my panties clung to my center.

　　My arousal evaporated the moment I realized that it was my job to console the crying baby and to do whatever else was required in a situation like that.

LEO-----------------------------------------------------------------------------

　　Amelia looked at me with wide eyes. My brain was working slower than usual. Her taste lingered on my tongue, and my thighs were still warm from her pretty ass. Despite my promise to keep my distance, I'd practically dragged her onto my lap the first chance I got. She hadn't resisted. Because she wanted me, or because she feared to refuse me?

　　Simona's cries grew in intensity.

　　"She's probably hungry."

　　"Okay?" Amelia looked like a deer in the headlights.

　　I sighed and stood, rearranging my dick so it wasn't as obvious. "Come on, I'll show you everything." Amelia pulled a robe over and followed after me. I was on the way downstairs to prepare the bottle but Amelia froze. "Shouldn't we console her first before going down into the kitchen?"

　　I considered that then nodded slowly. Sybil had prepared the bottle while I took care of Simona. Once Sybil fed her, I returned to bed.

　　Amelia and I went to Simona's bedroom and walked in. I turned the lights on. Simona's face scrunched up with her cries, her skin already turning red. Her cries tore at me. She'd always been a crier, but since Giya's death, it had become worse. Now every one of her cries seemed to ring with an undertone of accusation, and my guilt weighed heavy on my shoulders.

　　I walked over to the crib and picked Simona up, cradling her in my arms. She quieted only briefly. Sighing, I headed back to the door where Amelia was hovering with an uncertain expression. "You don't know anything about children, right?"

　　She hesitated. "Only what I've read."

　　That was what I'd suspected. Her parents made it sound like she was a practiced babysitter, but of course, that had been a tactic. Rocking Simona gently, I headed downstairs, Amelia close behind me. I could only hope Daniele wouldn't wake as well. I couldn't comfort them both, not that he would let me console him.

　　Stifling my frustration, I entered the kitchen. It had been a while since I'd prepared a bottle, but Sybil had set everything out in preparation.

　　I nodded toward the bottles and formula. "You have to prepare the bottle."

　　Amelia's eyes snapped to me. "I've never done it."

　　I sighed then held Simona out to her. "Then you'll have to hold her while I show you how to do it."

　　Amelia glanced at my daughter, swallowing. Embarrassment filled her face as she met my gaze, and I knew what she'd say before she did. "I've never held a baby in my life."

　　For a moment, I felt the urge to lash out at her verbally, but I shoved it down. Amelia had even less say in marrying me than I did. It wasn't her fault that she didn't know the first thing about being a mother. "It's not difficult. Just hold out your arms and take her."