Dating the Don (Savage Crime Lords #1)

Chapter 21

CHAPTER 21

MAEVE

Over the course of my life, I’ve imagined meeting my father more times than I could count. I always imagined that it would be the version of my father that my mother had told me about. In those daydreams, this mystical hero of a man would be brought back to life just so that I could get the chance to know him a little bit better. Something straight out of a fantasy novel where my father was a titan-like hero or a knight. Always something larger than life and incredible.

The man standing in front of me right now is none of those things. He is not larger than life, he is… underwhelming. But there’s absolutely no denying that he’s my father. I look just like him. All of the parts of my mother that I hoped to have, all of those times that I stared at my reflection in the mirror hoping to find which features are from which parent, it was all for nothing.

The man standing in front of me is smirking at me like a long-lost possession, a dog that’s been returned home. Keiran stands just behind my left shoulder as their men stand in a circle around us, no doubt making sure that I don’t run. All of the things that I imagined myself saying to him have escaped my head because this man is not familiar to me. If my mother loved this man, for the life of me I can’t venture a guess as to why. My father has the face of a man who has never smiled a day in his life. The only expression I can fathom him making is a sneer.

“The prodigal daughter, home at last,” Callum Sullivan offers as he walks toward me with his arms wide open. He’s going to hug me. The notion makes my skin crawl but I know that I have no choice but to let this happen. “I had heard that the resemblance is uncanny but seeing it with my own eyes is something else entirely. How I have dreamt about this day… ever since I found out that you have been alive this whole time.”

With a tight grip, he draws me into his chest. Perhaps I would have bought it if I hadn't known that he was trying to sell me like cattle. Even his scent seems familiar, but I'm not exactly sure why. I hate that he’s right. I have spent my whole life feeling like an outsider,like I didn’t belong. I never looked like my mother’s daughter. Something that I’ve always resented. Never more than I do right now.

I practically cringe as he pulls away from me. His hands land on my upper arms and stay there, and I have to fight every impulse not to pull free of his grasp. He squeezes tightly.

“Just about the only good thing to come out of wasting all of that time with that good for nothing whore,” Callum says casually. Bile rises in the back of my throat but I can’t allow myself to be phased by it. I can’t let him know that he’s getting to me. I have no idea what will or will not trigger his temper. I need to be sure that when I make my move, I will strike for real. I’ve never truly harmed another living being before but just from that one comment alone I am sure that I can do it. Nobody insults my mother.

What would my life have been like without this man as my father? Could we have done more? Would she have been free? She might not have needed to hide under the shelter of the Dominio family for the rest of her life. I could have seen the world like Ava has.

I guess he must be thinking the same sort of thing because his grip on my chin tightens fractionally. “There’s going to be so much for you to learn, such a steep learning curve. For that, I apologize. But, you’re my daughter. The bad genetics can’t cancel out the superior ones. Never you worry about that.”

I feel like he’s appraising me. Like turning my face this way and that will add dollars to my curb appeal.

“First, we will get you all cleaned up and changed out of those peasant clothes. From here on out, you will wear Doyle colors. This will please you, and in time, if you behave yourself and earn your keep, I will publicly claim you as my daughter. It will be a hell of a comeback for both of us. I promise you that. It’s all been arranged, my dear. You have such a bright future planned out for you. You’ll be the lucky woman to marry Keiran Doyle, and you will never want for anything.”

Maybe that offer would appeal to some women, but not to me.

My mother ensured that I never wanted for anything. I am not the damsel in distress that I am pretending to be.

“At least, you already know better than to talk back, dear. That’s a big step. The first was having the sense to come back home.” Callum smiles softer and releases my face. I think that’s the most that I’ve been talked down to in my whole life. He managed to insult just about everything about me and what I care about, all in one fell swoop. If I wasn’t so pissed off, I might actually be impressed by just how vulgar he managed to be.

The handcuffs behind my back serve as more evidence that, at least for the time being, I must obey them. I will carry this out. I'll make my move as soon as I earn their trust and they begin to let down their defenses. Should fortune favor me, I will triumph over the one who is so arrogant as to believe he owns me. I will be damned before I let any of them to touch me, that much is certain.

Callum steps away, effectively dismissing me with a wave of his hand.

“Show her to her rooms. Burn what she’s wearing,” Callum says with a final sneer as he turns his back on me. A daughter that he didn’t know was alive for so many years and he doesn’t even bother asking a thing about me. I didn’t speak a single word to him and he couldn’t care less.

As the men come up from behind me and start to pull me away, I find myself forgiving my mother. Not that I ever was truly upset with her in the first place but I understand why she lied. I think that if I had been in her shoes and faced with such an impossible situation, I would have done the exact same thing. I can’t believe that she ever married him. It’s impossible to picture that man now and think of him as being charming or kind enough for her to allow him into her bed.

The men lead me silently down a series of hallways and I feel like I’m walking into the belly of the beast. One of the men grabs me by the bicep as we stop in front of a nondescript door on the first floor of the Doyle complex and my cuffs are undone. Out of reflex, I snap my hands in front of my body and start to automatically massage the life back into the reddened skin. I feel a rough hand between my shoulder blades shoving me forward as the bedroom door is opened and I stumble inside. My ankle rolls with a jolt of pain and I stumble into the darkened room.

My eyes adjust slowly as I push myself into a seated position and massage the pain out of my ankle. It’s a standard enough room. Oak furniture and accents, but otherwise it would pass as any other hotel room. Not a scrap of art or decoration on the wall. It’s not the sort of cold and sterile-looking bedroom that Cristiano had chosen for himself but, despite that, this one seems even more barren somehow. The color makes no difference when it’s clear that nobody has ever loved this space. A pile of folded clothes rests on the nearest armchair positioned behind a circular glass-top table. No books. Nothing.

I stand, testing my weight on my ankle, pleased to find that it only twinges just a little bit. Certainly better than it could be. I pace the room quickly, not touching the clothes they left for me. I suppose it’s a small kindness that they didn’t force me to strip right away. I wouldn’t have put it past them.

When I switch on the ceiling light, it's even worse; the weak, yellow light blankets the room in a depressing tone. I carefully make my way to the far window, rip open the drapes, and nearly combust. The terrified scream rips suddenly out of my throat at the jump scare balanced on the ledge of my window.

Cristiano.

When he puts his fingers to his lips to tell me to hush, I immediately cover my face with both hands and give him a firm nod. He gestures for me to step back. Without asking any more questions, I do. I have no idea how he got here. I'm ecstatic to see him even though I have no idea how he knew exactly where I was or which room they had brought me to.

Cristiano fires two shots against the glass, which sounds like someone popping knuckles. The glass moves upward, allowing himto easily enter my bedroom.

I lunge towards him, almost bringing him down completely, and give him a hug. He releases thepistol and it sounds like a gentle tap on the carpet, allowing him to give me a hug in return. He wraps me up, wholly and tightly. The fear that was beginning to seep into my stomach disappears.

“Are you all right? Did they hurt you?!” He asks as he pulls just far enough from me to hold my face.

My smile nearly splits my face in half. “No, I’m okay. They… they haven’t touched me.”

I could cry. Well, I might be crying out of joy for seeing him. I don’t know what I was thinking, playing spy like this. I always wanted to be at his side to do this.

“Good. Because after all of this, I could kill you for scaring me like that,” Cristiano says as he pulls me back against his chest tightly. “Can you run? Things are going to happen very quickly now, Maeve.”

He takes my hand and pulls me back to the window and I see Al standing at the bottom, looking up at us from the ground. More of Cristiano’s men are gathered and closing in over the lawns in heavy-looking black gear. Is he going to toss me out there? Is that why Al is standing there? He’s going to take me back home, isn’t he? I’ve forced them to make a move they didn’t want to make just yet and now he’s going to bench me because of it, isn’t he?

“I’m not leaving,” I say as I wrench my hand from Cristiano’s. “I won’t go.”