Married For His One-Night Heir. Jennifer Hayward

      Her skin went cold. “I can’t go back to New York,” she said adamantly. “You know what that would mean, Santo. Leo would be exposed to my family. He would become a Castiglione.”

      A cold fire lit his ebony eyes. “Leo will become a Di Fiore. He will be protected as such—as will you. Which leads me to the final part of my offer. Leo will have no contact with your family. Ever. Those ties will remain severed. Unless it’s your mother on a supervised visit approved by me. If you break that condition, our agreement will become null and void.”

      And she would lose Leo. There was no need to even ask the question. She could tell from the look on his face. Ice formed on Gia’s insides. “My father will never tolerate such an arrangement, you know that. My brother, Tommaso, has never had a boy. Leo is his grandson—his future heir.”

      “Your father has bigger things to worry about.” Santo picked up a newspaper that was folded on the breakfast bar and handed it to her. She scanned the page. Found the story he was referring to near the bottom.

      Castiglione Thumbs His Nose at Congressional Hearings. Her heart jumped into her mouth. She skimmed the story, which talked about the new attorney general’s determination to crack down on the resurgence of organized crime in the United States with a series of congressional hearings set for next month in Washington. Her father, unsurprisingly, had been invited to testify on the subject. He had, also unsurprisingly, refused to attend, electing to take a lengthy sojourn to Calabria instead.

      She inhaled a deep breath. This would kill her mother. Her father was everything to her. Her whole life was built around him.

      “They will go after his business interests,” she said huskily. “My brother, next.”

      “Perhaps,” Santo agreed. “But that would take time. Meanwhile Tommaso will run things in Vegas while your father lawyers up. Which, I’m assuming, he will do.”

      Undoubtedly. Her father, meticulous with the details in which he protected his empire, would take his time to ensure he was fully shielded against the proceedings before he resurfaced. The battle he’d been fighting against law enforcement had been the bane of his existence, providing an undesirable spotlight when the famiglia would prefer to operate in the shadows.

      “He will come back,” she said flatly. “He will never trust my brother with the leadership. He will make himself impenetrable and then he will plead the Fifth. At which time, he will find out that Leo and I are back. I can’t risk that.”

      “You aren’t going to deal with him, Gia. I am.”

      Oh, no. Her heart dropped. That would never work. That would be a disaster. “You know how he feels about you, Santo.”

      A smile that wasn’t really a smile twisted his lips. “That he thinks I’m not good enough for you? Oh, that message came across loud and clear a decade ago. Funnily enough though,” he drawled, “we are on an equal playing field now. It will be interesting to see how that plays out.”

      Her stomach curled at the thought of it. But that fear was quickly replaced by the panic that surged up her throat. “You’re going to tell him you are Leo’s father.”

      His black eyes glittered. “You’re damn right I am, because that man is never going to set eyes on Leo again. He needs to know that.”

      Gia felt the world dissolve beneath her feet. This was a nightmare. This could not happen. She needed to do something to stop it before it did.

      She covered the distance between them with shaky steps, coming to a halt just centimeters from him. Her heart jammed in her chest at how gorgeous he was in a white shirt rolled up to the elbows and dark jeans that molded to his thighs to perfection. She had always been able to appeal to his softer side. He had never been able to resist her, and right now, she wasn’t above using whatever means necessary to prevent him from shattering her world apart.

      “Don’t do this,” she said softly, “You’re angry—I understand that. What I did was wrong. But I can’t go back there. I’m never going back.”

      His gaze slid to the fingers she had wrapped around his arm, tensile muscle that vibrated beneath her touch. It was, she recorded silently, her second mistake of the past five minutes, because everything went up in smoke then, the slow rise of heat between them palpable as he lifted his gaze to hers, dark as ebony. And, suddenly, she was so tangled up in him she couldn’t get out.

      “Santo,” she murmured. “No.”