It’s been good, better than I thought it would be, after all the drama we’ve endured the past few months.
Harper is sound asleep after yesterday’s festivities in the bedroom, which were spicier than even I imagined. Finding out your wife likes to roleplay and then making your fantasy come true, holy hell.
She makes one sexy little nurse.
I’m the luckiest man alive!
Zeke runs around the living room while I’m in the kitchen, cooking breakfast.
“Daddy, I eat bacon.”
“Yes, you can have some when it cools off.” I don’t want him to eat anything too hot and get burned. The guy has crocodile tears that make even me want to cry.
I’d do anything to protect Zeke—and that extends to Harper as well.
Protecting them isn’t easy.
Massimo DeLuca is a constant fear rattling through my head.
For a while, I was uncertain if he was still alive.
Turns out he is, and I want him dead.
But he’s been dark, their network quiet since the last encounter with Harper at the grocery store and park.
Dante believes we damaged their operation enough to slow it down. They’re still trafficking girls, but not out of our city.
But give it time.
They’ll return with a vengeance and a vendetta against me.
I have to take Massimo’s threats seriously. We have cameras outside the property, and the feed is transmitted to Dante’s men, who can watch over the house 24/7 and ensure that everyone is safe, especially my family.
But surveillance isn’t enough, and Dante’s men aren’t nearby. They’re an hour plus away. Which leaves Liam, Ashton, and me to handle any situation that may arise.
Dante’s given us weapons and ammo, which we keep locked away and out of Zeke’s reach. I hope never to use any of it in my home, but it’s a concern that weighs heavily on me.
It’s not something I talk to Harper about. She has her own worries. She doesn’t need to know about Massimo’s threat.
It would only worry and upset her, which is the last thing I want to do.
“Daddy, bacon!” Zeke stomps his feet, demanding that I pay attention to him.
I pull three slices of bacon from the pan and place them on a plate with a paper towel, trying to dry off the grease.
“Daddy!” Zeke doesn’t seem to have much patience. I really wish that were something Harper could teach him, because I’m not exactly a patient man, either.
“I know, Zeke, you just have to wait until it cools down.”
“I’m starving. I’m going to die!” Zeke exclaims.
The kid is all about theatrics.
I try not to roll my eyes. “You aren’t going to die. How about you go nicely wake up your mom, and breakfast will be ready when you both get back?”
Zeke tears out of the kitchen, nearly tripping over his little feet. He runs into the bedroom and I can imagine Harper trying to pull him under the covers for a little more shuteye.
“Mommy, no sleep! Bacon,” I hear his little voice over the stove with its sizzle from the bacon, and I kick the stove fan on to keep the house from getting too smoky.