Sliding in the backseat of the Bentley, I tell Michael, “Let’s go home. And hurry.”
Because I sure as fuck didn’t get the answers I came for. No, I got my world rocked, and a completely new identity.
Crey enters the penthouse, and it doesn’t take a genius to know immediately that something is very, very wrong.
“Crey?”
His hair is wild. His eyes are wild. His entire demeanor is wild. I’ve never seen him like this, and it sets my stomach on a high-speed churn.
“What happened? Is it bad? He didn’t take your deal?”
He walks past me to the window and presses a hand to the glass. His forehead follows next. “My father wasn’t my father.” His words are so quiet, I can barely make them out.
“What?” I whisper.
“My mother was pregnant when they met.”
A lifetime of not knowing who my father is has had a massive impact on me, but just learning it? I can’t imagine how much it would throw a person’s world off its axis.
“Oh my God. Do you know who . . . ?”
“Not exactly.”
I press both hands to my face before rubbing upward and dragging them through my hair.
Holy. Crap.
I cross to his side, wanting nothing more than to offer what little comfort I may be able to. His slumped shoulders look like they’re carrying the weight of the world.
“But Damon did tell me he was married, and he was in the Mafia.”
“What!” I don’t mean to yell, but if ever there was a time to yell, I think this qualifies.
Crey pushes off the glass and turns to me. “Yeah. Apparently I’m half Sicilian and not half Greek.”
I study him. “I guess I can see it. But holy shit, Crey. Holy shit. You can’t make this shit up. I mean, holy shit.”
The edges of his lips curl up in the tiniest hint of a smile, and incredibly, he bursts into a laugh.
“Fuck me, I know. Damon said he was a capo, and that was before I was born. He’s probably dead or in prison now. But Jesus fucking Christ. I went to buy back stock in my own company, not a place in the Five Families.”
My eyes feel like they may bug out of my head. I’m sure it’s not an attractive look on me, but I can’t help it. This is so freaking unbelievable.
“This is like real Godfather-type shit, isn’t it?”
Crey shakes his head. “It changes nothing. I’m still exactly the same man. I’m a product of my experiences. The source of my DNA doesn’t change me. And I’m sure as shit not changing my last name.”
“Why would you change your last name?” I’m totally confused now.
“That was Damon’s price to leave me—to leave us—alone.”
“What an arrogant asshole!”
“Calm down, baby,” Crey says, reaching for my hand.
I shake him off. “Fuck calming down. I’m about to go backwoods on his ass. I like my new last name. I may not be using it onstage, but I’m sure as hell not giving it up now.”
Now Crey’s smile threatens to split his face wide. “You are an amazing woman. If anyone had told me that I’d be smiling this soon after having the foundation of my entire existence rocked, I would’ve told them they were insane. Because I remember, with startling clarity, you telling me that I was under no circumstances to call you Mrs. Creighton Karas again, or I’d be at risk of being immortalized in a song about a nutless wonder.”
“You do listen.” I’m grinning now. “And that was purely a matter of your this is my woman, and I own her like property tone at the time that I took exception to. It had nothing to do with your name.”
Crey grabs me and hauls me against his chest. I swear I can feel the tension leave his body as soon as it connects with mine.
“This is what I needed. You. In my arms. God, now I’m really tempted to consider Cannon’s suggestion about taking a hit out on Damon.”
I crane my neck back and look up at him. “That’s the Mafioso blood in you talking now, baby. I like it.”
“Well, right now I just want to forget this entire morning.”
His lips descend on mine, and our mouths meet and devour each other. My tongue finds his and tangles, tastes, and teases. I wrap my arms around his neck and pull myself off my feet before twining my legs about his waist. Crey cradles my ass in both hands and heads for the bedroom.
We’re two steps from the door before a knock interrupts us.
I pull back, but Crey says, “Ignore it.”
“We can’t ignore it. You know it’s Cannon, and if he left the Investor Day festivities, it’s got to be important.”
“You’re more important.”
I wiggle out of his hold and shimmy down his body, stopping to look down at the tent he’s sporting in his suit pants. “How about I get the door?”
Crey shoves a hand through his hair. “Fine,” he says, scowling. “But tell him he’s an asshole for interrupting.”
“I will.”
He’s shaking his head as I turn away and head to the door. I’m still laughing when I pull it open.
I stop laughing, because it’s not Cannon. I have to stop and smooth my hair because I think I’m about to meet my new sister-in-law.