I sigh as I peel through the thirteenth resume for the day. I know I’m being picky but I can’t help it. The Center has been my entire life since I was old enough to walk and making sure I put the right people into the role could be the difference for the kids. I need someone who is going to love them as much as Dad and I do. Someone who will drop everything in the middle of the night to pick them up if they get in trouble.
Basically I need an exact replica of myself. Not too much to ask.
“Are you okay, sweet girl?” Rayne smiles from the doorway.
“How long have you been standing there?” I let the resume I’m holding fall to the hard wood beneath it.
“Give or take three heavy sighs and four resumes.” He shrugs as he moves to sit across from me. The power dynamic is different when we sit like this, me in the boss’s chair and him across the desk. I can’t imagine anything feeling more powerful than having the upper hand over someone like Rayne Saint James.
I laugh. “I’m not exactly enjoying this process. Let’s just put it that way. Wynter helped but I’m just hard to please.”
He raised a brow. “You don’t say. I never would have picked it.” The smile on his face is wide and warm, not something I ever would have expected when I first met him but had come to bask in over the last week. It’s crazy to think a week ago I was just a normal girl who had way too much debt and too many jobs, only to find myself caught up between the two mafia bosses that run the city.
I roll my eyes. “I love those kids, I just want to make sure they have people in their corner. Obviously Dad’s not going anywhere but I guess I’m planning for any… eventuality that could be in my future.” I don’t need to say the words for us both to know what I’m talking about. If Russo gets his hands on me, he won’t let me work. I know enough about him to know I would be a placeholder. I would give him children and be the dutiful wife and hope to God I’m useful enough he doesn’t see fit to kill me once I’ve outlived my expiry date.
If I’ve learned anything about Angelo Russo since being moved into this penthouse, it’s that he has zero regard to human life, he runs the biggest trafficking ring in North America, and the things he would do to a wife are so terrifying I try not to amuse the idea.
“Emerson,” Rayne growls.
“I’m just trying to plan ahead. I don’t know how long this threat is going to go on for, and you can’t keep the three of us locked up here forever, even if you want to, it’s just not practical. I have to make sure there’s someone that can fill a void I leave if that’s what happens.” I try to choose my words carefully. The other thing I’ve learned is that Rayne has a very short temper when it comes to the people he cares about being hurt, and lucky for me, I’m one of those people.
“I will keep you here for as long as it takes to neutralize the threat. There is no way that motherfucker is ever getting his hands on you. You can stop succession planning for the Center because nothing is going to happen to you, I’ll make sure of it. There’s only one time you will ever have to be away for an extended amount of time and you can probably just work from home over that period.”
“And what period might that be?” I raise a questioning brow.
“When we have kids.”
I stare at him blankly for long moments. We’ve been in a relationship for ten days, and that’s including the days I was in denial. It’s about three years too early to be having this conversation. “Who says I want kids?” I cross my arms across my chest defiantly. The way my heart stutters every time he says something about the long-term worries me. I shouldn’t want to be with him at all, let alone for the rest of my life. And yet, every time he says these things, my insides melt at the idea.
“You want kids,” he says confidently.
I shake my head. “No, I don’t. After the mother I had, what makes you think I would want to risk doing that to my own child?” I do want kids. I don’t even know why I’m arguing with him seeing as all I’ve wanted for as long as I can remember is to get married and have a family. Perhaps it’s that having a child with Rayne would mean they were always in danger, always looking over their shoulder because of who their family is. Or maybe it’s because it’s way too soon to be having this discussion at all.
His brows furrow together as if he’s trying to work out if I’m serious or not. He doesn’t seem angry, just thoughtful as we stare at one another. “Okay.”
“Okay?” I ask.
“If you don’t want kids, we won’t have kids. As long as I have you, I have everything I could ever want.”
My mouth drops open in surprise. The idea that someone who was set on the idea of children a few minutes ago can so easily let go of that paternal need just because I said I didn’t want them only serves to make my heart soar.
“I actually wanted to talk to you about something.” Rayne leans back into his seat.
“Oh?”
“You said Laurence was accepted into Brown?” he asks and I nod my confirmation. “What’s he studying?”
“He’s hoping to major in engineering. That kid is too smart for his own good. A few years ago, he asked for help with his homework and it went well over my head.” I laugh. “Why’s that?”
“Wynter has been talking about maybe doing internships, and because Frost Industries is looking to further our reach into the tech industry, I was thinking we could recommend him for the first one. It would be a great opportunity for him, look good on the resume, and if after he was finished studying he wanted to continue with Frost, we could hold a place for him.”
“No,” I say too quickly and flinch at the harshness in my own tone. I didn’t mean for it to be so abrupt, but the idea of any of the kids working for the Saint James family makes me sick to my stomach. “What I mean to say is that I would prefer if we kept the kids out of the business.” There, that wasn’t so bad, was it?
Rayne’s face is stony as he glares across the desk at me. “I think I can read between the lines on that one. You don’t want the kids getting mixed up with criminals. I get it.” He stands abruptly from the seat, sending it toppling over. “Most of Frost is legitimate these days, Emerson. And knowing how much those kids mean to you means I would never think to involve them in the less savory parts, but obviously the idea of my family disgusts you.” He storms toward the door.
“Rayne,” I call out.
“You don’t seem to have an issue with the fact I’m a criminal when I’m balls deep inside you every night. I’m going to meet Storm. Don’t wait up.” And before I can even think to chase after him, I hear the door to the penthouse slam shut.
A silent tear rolls down my cheek and I quickly swipe it away. Will I ever be able to accept the life Rayne leads when he leaves this apartment every morning? Will I be able to sleep each night beside a man who had likely killed someone throughout the waking hours?
I close my eyes tight and let out a ragged breath, realizing the answers to those questions lay in my feelings for Rayne.
I love him.
The realization hits me like a ton of bricks, stealing the air from my lungs as the unfamiliar emotion ravages my body.
I reach for my phone perched on the edge of the desk and dial his number, but it goes straight to voice mail. He doesn’t want to hear from me. He needs some time to cool down, and I have to respect that. Even though all I want to hear his voice tell me everything is okay.
