Total pages in book: 103
Estimated words: 98469 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 492(@200wpm)___ 394(@250wpm)___ 328(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 98469 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 492(@200wpm)___ 394(@250wpm)___ 328(@300wpm)
Dominick is at the stove with Damien standing on a chair next to him. He’s explaining to Damien how to know when the pancakes are ready to be flipped, and Damien is watching intently.
“Bubbles!” Damien yells loud enough to make me flinch, but Dominick just laughs and nods, not the least bit annoyed by our son’s overenthusiasm.
“That’s right,” he says. “You ready to flip?”
When our son nods, Dominick takes Damien’s hand around the spatula, and the two of them flip the pancake together.
“Yay!” Damien cheers. “I did it!”
“You did,” Dominick agrees, pride in his eyes for something so inconsequential as flipping a pancake. “You ready to do the next one?”
I watch for a few minutes as Dominick and Damien make breakfast for dinner. My heart is so full of love and happiness, and I know there’s no going back. This is our life now. In Harbor Point, with the man I never thought I’d have a future with, but who has quickly become a vital part of my world. But not just my world. Damien’s too. He’s already fallen in love with his dad and become attached, and I could never take that away from him.
“Mmm, it smells delicious,” I say, walking into the kitchen and making my presence known.
“We’re making pancakes!” Damien says, lifting one up to show me.
“Hey, baby.” Dominick leans over without leaving Damien and gives me a quick kiss, causing butterflies to attack my chest. Dominick might be ruthless in other aspects of his life, but in our home, he’s soft and romantic. “How was your day?”
I tell him about everything I learned today while they finish cooking. Then, as we sit down to eat, the garage door opens and closes, and Matteo and Lorenzo come sauntering in. I only have eyes for Dominick, but I would be blind if I didn’t notice how good-looking all of them are. I can’t even imagine the heads they must turn when they go out together.
“What’s up, little man?” Matteo fluffs Damien’s hair and then has a seat at the six-person table next to him.
Matteo is dressed in his usual jeans and T-shirt, making him look more gangster than billionaire with his dozens of tattoos running up and down his arms and across his hands and knuckles. If Dominick hadn’t told me they were business partners and Matteo was worth as much as Dominick, I never would’ve believed the man had money. Dominick says he dresses like that because he handles the streets, and if he walked around in a suit, he’d lose the respect of the men they employ.
While he looks mean, from the little bit of interaction I’ve had with him, he’s a jokester who doesn’t take much seriously. But Dominick says not to be fooled, that his brother is ten times more ruthless than him—and that alone is scary as hell. Because I can’t imagine anyone more ruthless than Dominick.
“Dominick,” Lorenzo says, having a seat at the end of the table. “Mrs. Antonov.”
He nods toward me, and I burst out laughing at his formality.
I don’t know much about Lorenzo besides that he’s best friends with Matteo, he runs a company that partners with Antonov Enterprises a lot, and he has a younger sister that Dominick was supposed to marry before their dad died and they threw the arrangement out the window.
Unlike Matteo, Lorenzo is dressed in a pair of charcoal slacks and a button-down shirt, the sleeves rolled to his forearms. He’s sporting several tattoos as well—a contradiction to the formal attire.
As I glance between the three of them, I find it funny how different they all are, yet they clearly work well together, if their newest expansion project is anything to go by.
Dominick drove me by it the other day to check on it, and it’s going to top the one in Coral Bay. When he told me he was a major investor in that project, I was in awe. In the hospitality industry, Antonov Enterprises and Russo Property Group—Lorenzo’s company—are spoken about with reverence and respect. To say they are two of the top players in the industry would be an understatement.
“You can call me Peyton,” I say to Lorenzo. “Dominick and I aren’t married. We’re not even engaged.”
I take a bite of my pancake and feel Dominick glare at me, but his possessiveness doesn’t scare me.
Matteo barks out a laugh. “Careful there, bro. You look like you’re about to suffer from a brain aneurysm.”
“Feel free to fuck off,” Dominick mutters, making Matteo laugh harder and Lorenzo join in.
“Daddy, you said a bad, bad word,” Damien says with a laugh.
“Yeah, Daddy.” Matteo smirks. “No swearing.”
Dominick glares at his brother, which only makes Matteo’s grin widen.
“Can I have another pancake?” Damien asks.
Before Dominick or I can answer, Matteo reaches over and grabs one for him, plopping it onto his plate. “Here you go, little man.”