Cut Too Deep, page 18
“Your home is lovely.”
“Thank you. It’s lovelier now.” Miller swept his fingertips over her cheek where blush had formed. “It belonged to my grandfather. He left it to me when he died.”
“What about your grandmother?”
“They were separated, but they remained friends. She never wanted this place anyway. Nana is still alive and well. Would you care for something to drink?”
“Thank you. I’d love some water.”
Hadley followed Miller to the enormous kitchen.
“Have a seat.”
She sat at one of ten barstools along the kitchen island, setting her purse to the side.
“Do you entertain often?”
“No, never, but my grandfather did. Old school Italian you know, constantly cooking and hosting gatherings. This is where he entertained, and there’s a cooking kitchen at the other end of the condo.”
Miller handed her a blue bottle and a glass of ice. She laughed reading the label for Santa Vittoria Acqua Minerale, bottled in Italy.
“Do you endorse anything that isn’t Italian?”
“I enjoy the finer things in life. I can’t help it if they happen to be Italian.”
“In your unbiased opinion of course, Mr. Genetti.”
“Of course.” Miller winked.
“Tell me, how does a one-hundred percent Italian male end up with a name like Miller?”
He looked offended but smiled. “What’s wrong with the name Miller?”
“Nothing, but it isn’t exactly Italian.”
“No, it isn’t.” Miller sighed. “My great-grandfather had a best friend named Miller. They were in the army together. His friend was killed in the war. The name has been given to a Genetti son since then.”
“Oh,” Hadley swallowed.
“Don’t be sad. I didn’t know him.”
Hadley gave him a small smile and poured the bottle of water into the glass. She took a drink, thinking it tasted like any other water.
“With all of the entertaining, I assume you’re from a big family.”
Miller rested his forearms on the counter and leaned forward.
“Yes, on my mother’s side, hence why I’m an only child, as was my father. His parents died young and he put himself through law school. That’s how he met my mother. As the story goes, she slapped a police officer over a speeding ticket and needed a good attorney.”
Hadley nearly spit water.
“She did?”
“As the only girl in a house full of brothers, Noemi Lorino was as feisty as they come, and still is.” Miller regarded her humorously. “She’d like you.”
“I’m not feisty!”
“No, not you, never.”
“Wait, Lorino?” Her index finger pushed into the side of her nose, pushing it sideways. “As in the Lorino crime family?”
Miller eyed her cautiously, questioning if he should tell her.
“Yes.”
Hadley tried to hide her shock. She sat silently, scolding herself for all the times she Googled pictures of Miller, but never bothered to read up on him. A warning would have been nice. Did it matter that he came from a notorious crime family? Would it change her feelings?
“Please, say something, Love.”
She glanced up at him with her mouth open.
“What’s a person supposed to say with they find out they’re dating the grandson of Don Corleone?”
“Not quite.” Miller laughed hard. “My father wouldn’t have anything to do with my mother’s family at first. He refused to take her case. When they were married, he made it clear, his business would never mingle with her family and his children would never be involved. But I do have a Godfather.”
Hadley tried not to smile. Their conversation was serious, or by standards, should be.
“So, you’re like the Mob.”
“No, I’m Miller Genetti.”
She narrowed her eyes.
“But, your family is the Mob. Jesus, Miller!”
He sighed and joined her at the island, taking the stool next to her. With his elbow on the counter, he rested his cheek on his fist.
“Technically, they’re Mafia. Mobsters are generally unorganized gangsters. Thugs if you will. There is a difference.” He smiled crookedly.
“Oh, well, that makes me feel so much better. Gee, thanks for that!”
Her dry humor usually delighted him, but her dig was personal and he tried not to let it irritate him. He spun the barstool she was in until it faced him.
“I’m not involved in the family business, but they are my family. I can’t change that.”
“They’re terrible people!”
His jaw ticked. Anyone else and Miller would be tossing them out the front door for speaking ill of his family. For all their faults, he was proud to be a Lorino. With Hadley, though, he wanted understanding. Showing his anger would only send her running.
“You don’t know my family!”
Hadley tossed her hands up, her annoyance with herself for knowing nothing about him.
“I can read! I watch the news! Their life isn’t exactly private.”
“Yet, you didn’t know we were related. Why do you think that is?” She turned her head. “I’ve worked hard to be my own man. You don’t need to be afraid. They’re just businessmen!”
“That resort to violence when their associates disagree with them and strong arm to gain compliance! They’re not businessmen, they’re bullies!”
Miller stroked his chin as he pondered how to respond without his temper flaring.
“I’m rather surprised by your judgment.” His voice remained calm. “Shall we discuss stones and glass houses, Love?”
Hadley hung her head, tears swimming in her eyes.
“That was cruel.”
He hated being the cause of her tears. When Miller tried to take her hand, Hadley refused him. He straightened, massaging the back of his neck.
“You’re right. I shouldn’t have said that.” Miller wiped her cheek. “I’m protective of those I care about. While their hands aren’t entirely clean, my family is decent with big hearts. They’ve worked hard to legitimize their business. Please, don’t judge them based on an iconic movie or media lies. I’d very much like for the people I care about most in this world to co-exist.”
Hadley considered his words, ignoring the growing panic she felt about their situation.
“Was that an ultimatum?”
“Your past betrays you.” Miller gripped her neck below her jaw, his stare intense. “I don’t intend on making a choice between my family and the woman in my life.”
Hadley removed his hands. She felt uncertain, confused.
“Then what do you ‘intend’?”
“I simply ask that you get to know them as my father did. He loves my mother despite where she came from and he accepts her family.”
Miller targeted his words deliberately. He didn’t desire to hurt Hadley, but hoped a comparison would help her understand the hypocrisy she communicated.
Hadley took in Miller’s request with a double helping of stark reality. Being perched atop a self-righteous high horse, considering where she came from, bordered on comical. However, laughing while he studied her with heated intensity would only escalate the minor argument.
“Message received, Mr. Genetti.”
Hadley smiled when his features softened.
“Good.” Miller stood and planted a chaste kiss to her lips. “Can I get you anything else before I go pack?”
“I’m fine, thank you.”
Her eyes stayed on him as he strolled down the hall. She was overwhelmed with happiness. They had an argument that didn’t lead to shouting angry words or physical confrontation. The dreaded cycle had been broken. Miller never raised his voice. Gentle and kind men did exist, and Hadley had found one to love, who she thought loved her in return. Miller had yet to say it, but he didn’t have to. She felt it.
Hadley heard vibration in her purse and pulled her phone out. She’d been expecting to hear from Mac.
Mac: Can I stop by later to check on you? Please tell me you’re okay.
Hadley: I’m better than okay. I’m with Miller. I’ll talk to you tomorrow at work.
Mac: You sho’ will! *Jumps up and down while clapping hands.* I told you he’d come.
Hadley: Did not!
Mac: Did too! *Sticks tongue out!*
Hadley smiled and shoved the phone back in her purse.
Water ran through pipes in the wall when Miller started the shower. Hadley tried not to picture him naked. Although, she did find herself thinking about how their first time together would be. Having never slept with anyone she felt a connection to led Hadley to believe making love with Miller would be life changing. In those vulnerable thoughts, she felt terrified. Miller was experienced. Failing to please him in the bedroom would certainly be cause for Miller to reconsider their relationship. His promiscuity wasn’t a secret. He craved sex like she craved chocolate. Hadley smiled at the thought chocolate had never disappointed her and breathed through her anxiety. Their physical union was a definite. His feelings after were not, but Hadley refused to dwell in her lack of control and let it ruin her happiness.
Miller’s footsteps thumped in the hall and a door opened. His voice grew increasingly louder. Hadley got up and walked in his direction, realizing he was on the phone. He sounded angry and he was yelling. She stopped short of the room and listened through the door.
“You’re incompetence is unacceptable. Find out who paid for her. You have one week, and if anything happens to her in the meantime, I will hold you personally accountable. Are we clear?” Hadley heard paper rustling. “Good.”
The room went silent. She turned and went back to the kitchen. In a week, Miller will have found his wife, and Hadley worried how that would affect their delicate relationship. Miller assured her he was over Theresa, but Hadley had doubts how that may change once he found his wife, old habits and all. She added that to the pile of insecure thoughts she had no control over, ignoring the mean voice telling her how big the pile had grown.
Miller and Hadley sat on the couch in Hadley’s apartment. She felt blessed to see this side of him. He wasn’t the intimidating businessman anymore. In sweats, hair ruffled, eating takeout with chop sticks directly from the carton, he was relaxed and comfortable. She set her food down and wiped her face with a napkin.
“How old are you?” Hadley asked, thinking it was another question she could have discovered the answer to while stalking Miller on the internet.
Miller dropped the chopsticks in the paper container and set it on the coffee table.
“Thirty-One.”
Hadley calculated the age difference, thinking five years wasn’t that bad.
“And, how old are you, Ms. Walker?”
“Like, you don’t know.”
Miller smirked.
“A question answered with an accusation hinders a conversation in which we are trying to get to know each other.”
She held back laughter. He was a pompous ass, but a beautiful, kind, pompous ass.
“I think asking questions you know the answers to, courtesy of snooping into ones past, defeats the purpose entirely.”
“I disagree.” His eyes darkened. “How old are you?”
Hadley rolled her eyes and decided to play along.
“Twenty-Six.”
“See how easy that was.”
His self-assured grin had her shaking her head.
“Where did you grow up?”
“In the city.”
“Where did you go to college?”
“Columbia. I wanted to be a doctor.” Hadley thought about how he took care of her the night before. She could see that in Miller. “But I didn’t graduate.”
“Why?”
“I invented and patented an invention in high demand. I had a choice to sell the patent, license it, or start my own company where I could not only manufacture, but maintain the rights. I chose the latter and dropped out.”
“How did you get started? The initial investment had to be substantial.”
“By going against my father’s wishes.”
“I don’t understand.”
“I borrowed the capital I needed to get started from my Uncle Vito.”
Hadley broke out into uncontrollable laughter.
“I’m not finding the humor here, Love.”
“Seriously?” Hadley held her belly, while visions of Marlon Brando swam in her head. “Your family is Mafia. You have an Uncle Vito and it’s not the least bit humorous to you?” She righted and held her fingers out, pinching them together at the tips. “Did he make you an offer you couldn’t refuse?”
Her terrible attempt at impersonating Brando sent Miller into his own peals of laughter. He loved the unadulterated side of her. With her mask down, unguarded, she was never more beautiful. He pulled Hadley onto his lap and ran his nose along her jaw, stopping to nip at her earlobe.
“Don’t ever do that again.”
With her arms around his neck, Hadley pulled back to look at him.
“You have to admit that was funny.”
“Yes, Love. You’re quite the comedian.” Hadley removed her hands from his neck and positioned herself so she was lying in his lap. Miller played with her soft hair, twirling a long brown curl around his finger. “It wasn’t like that when I borrowed the money from Vito, although my father thought it would be. There were no stipulations or promises of returned favors with the loan. The interest was high, but I paid back every cent and doubled the interest. The only thing owed my uncle is gratitude for having faith in the empire I wanted to create. My company would be nothing if he hadn’t believed in me, since my father thought dropping out of Columbia was a useless waste of time and refused to help me financially.”
As Hadley listened to Miller talk, she heard the hint of animosity he held for his father.
“You sound very close to your uncle.”
“I am, much to my father’s dismay.”
“He doesn’t care for your uncle?”
“After grandfather died, Uncle Vito took over the role as Capofamiglia. My father didn’t want that life for me and was afraid if I got too close to my uncle that’s where I’d end up. He had valid reasons.” Miller held her gaze grinning slightly. “Don’t you dare laugh, but Vito is my Godfather, and, growing up, I looked up to him.”
Hadley couldn’t help it. She laughed, hard. Miller’s family was Mafia, and he had a Godfather named Vito. You can’t make this stuff up, she thought. “I’m sorry.” She held up a hand, still trying to control her amusement.
“Don’t apologize, your laughter is wonderful.” Miller gripped her hand, kissing each fingertip. Well, that shut her up. He placed her hand on her lap and continued. “Vito is ruthless. My father had good cause to limit our interactions. The godfather to godson relationship is sacred among Sicilian’s, and my father knew Vito wanted me to take my rightful place in the family. My uncle is a good man and loyal to those he loves. I wouldn’t be half the man I am today without him in my life.” The openness in which he spoke of his uncle shared that Miller was referring to more than his uncle’s help in business. Hadley reached up to touch his cheek. Miller held her hand against his face. “I’d like you to meet him.”
Hadley smiled.
“I’d love to meet the man responsible for who you are today.”
Miller released her hand. As he stared down at his love, his vow to protect her grew in intensity. When his investigator found out who purchased Hadley for their sick pleasure, Miller would be calling on his uncle once again for a favor—the kind worthy of Mafia reputation; a service that may actually require a favor in return. Hadley was a member of La Famiglia now, and someone crossed an unacceptable line, one they would soon be paying for with their life. It was the way.
Hadley showered while Miller cleaned up from dinner. When he was done, he stripped to his boxers and t-shirt. He climbed on the bed, battling his desire to go into the shower and have his way with her. Her trust didn’t come easily, and Miller refused to trample it by rushing her into anything. Their intimacy was in her hands and only she would determine when they made love.
Hadley cursed when she turned off the water. She didn’t have men to her apartment and wasn’t in the habit of bringing a change of clothes into the shower with her. Not wanting to put her dirty clothes back on, she secured the towel around her body, took a deep breath, and opened the door.
Miller’s resolve nearly crumbled. Hadley stood in the doorway, nervous, and wet, and naked! What’s a man to do when faced with a beautiful naked woman? While she squirmed under his gaze, his question was answered.
Miller got up from the bed and crossed the room. Hadley’s eyes widened on his approach. Her thoughts went haywire.
He gripped her hand and walked her to the bed. When he gently pushed on her shoulders, Hadley sat down and swallowed hard. The mental pep talk she gave herself convinced her she was ready for this to happen. She could do this, but instead of touching her, Miller went to the dresser. Hadley smiled as he searched her drawers and withdrew a pair of cotton pajamas. Her cheeks burned scarlet when next, he pulled out a pair of cotton panties. Miller frowned, thinking they weren’t nearly sexy enough for her.
Without speaking, he knelt before her, holding her panties in his hand. She dipped her feet into the holes and stood while Miller pulled them into place under the towel. He followed the same course with her pajama bottoms. He then slipped the top over her head and waited until she fed her arms through the holes to remove the towel.
The purposeful care Miller took with her was more intimate that any sexual experience Hadley could imagine. It was nurturing in the way the poetry he sent eluded he would be, an expression of love beyond any sexual desire.
Miller held her face and brushed their noses together. Her eyes closed.
“Look at me.” She opened her eyes, her heart fluttering. “I will never take advantage of you. You control when. I want you beneath me, moaning my name. I want to see those brown eyes rich with love when I bring you to climax. But, I want you to decide when you’re ready. I won’t make that decision for you.”
