He stared at me. “You’re not on the list.”
“I know, but I need to speak with him. It’s urgent.”
“Sorry, ma’am. You can’t speak with him unless you’re on the list.”
I stared at the guy. “Please. Get me Vince Miro. He knows me. He’ll want to speak with me.”
The guy glanced at Alex and then got on his phone. Two minutes later, a bunch more security guards descended on me and began asking a ton of questions, none of which I wanted to answer.
And then I saw him. He climbed out of a golf cart and stared at me while the original guard said something to him.
He watched me for a minute, and I stared back defiantly. I made no attempt to hide Alex. That’s right; this is your kid, I thought.
Finally, he walked toward me. My heart was leaping in my chest. He was as handsome as I remembered, tall and broad, muscular and tattooed. I remembered that night well, remembered how he had worked my body, how dirty he’d been on the dance floor, the things he’d whispered in my ear. I remembered how incredible it had felt to give myself to him, to let his hands explore my body, his mouth on my neck, his cock deep between my legs.
A shiver ran down my spine. His gaze was intense as he walked slowly toward me.
Vince Miro. He had a bad reputation, a dangerous reputation. And here I was on his home turf, trying to get him to help me take care of a baby he didn’t even know about.
This was crazy, I realized as he came toward me. This was absolutely crazy. He wasn’t going to believe me; he was going to throw me out, and then my father was going to take Alex away.
I took a deep breath, biting back my panic. I had to stay strong, had to stick with my plan. I didn’t know anybody else in this city that could protect me from my father; there was only Vince.
He nodded to the guards as he approached, and they quickly dispersed. After a moment, Vince stood alone in front of me, staring down at me. He was wearing jeans and a tight black T-shirt. He crossed his arms, staring at me.
“I recognize you,” he said. “Miss no names.”
“My name is Kaley Kozlov.”
“Anatoli’s daughter?”
I nodded once. “That’s right.”
“So you’re a Russian mob princess.”
“No,” I said fiercely. “Not at all.”
“Who’s the kid?” he asked, nodding at Alex.
“This is Alexei. He’s the reason I’m here.”
Vince frowned. “Are you about to try and convince me that this is my kid?”
I held Alex up slightly so Vince could see him. “He is your son, Vince.”
Vince laughed and shook his head. “I’ve had a lot of crazy fucking chicks come after me, but this is by far the craziest.”
“Thirteen months ago. Remember? Alex is about four months old.”
He sighed. “So what? You could have gone home with a guy every night of that week. How do I know I’m the dad?”
“You’re the only guy I went home with that month,” I said. “And I haven’t been with another guy since.”
He laughed, shaking his head. “This is fucking crazy. You’re fucking crazy. No way that’s my fucking kid.”
“It is your kid,” I said, getting angry. Alex was squirming, and I could tell he was about to get fussy. “He’s your son, and we need your help.”
He raised an eyebrow. “How much?”
“What?”
“How much do you want?”
“I don’t want your money.”
“So what the fuck do you want then?” he asked. “I’m getting annoyed.”
“I need protection.”
He sighed, rubbing his head. “Protection from what? Spell it the fuck out, or else I’m leaving.”
“My family is very conservative, as you well know. Alex is an embarrassment to the whole mob since I’m not married. My father was going to take him away and put him up for adoption, pretend like he never existed.”
Vince frowned. “So what? Might make your life easier.”
“Nobody is taking my son away,” I said angrily. “Your son.”
“Okay. So you want me to protect you from your fucking father?”
“Yes.”
He stared at me and then burst out laughing, shaking his head. “You really are crazy.”
“He’s your son,” I said. I moved closer to him, holding Alexei up. They really did share some features, but I wasn’t sure if Vince could even see it.
He looked, though. And for a second, I thought I saw recognition flash across his face.
But it was quickly gone and his cocky smile returned. “Cute kid.”
“Please. I don’t want to be here, but I have nowhere else to turn.”
Vince looked at me seriously for a second before speaking slowly. “I’ll let you inside,” he said. “For the day. If you can prove he’s my son, then we’ll talk about something longer.”
“How can I prove it?”
He shrugged. “I’m sure we can arrange a paternity test.”
“Those take weeks,” I said.