Page 42 of The Billionaire's Distraction

The joy of the moment shattered when she looked up and saw movement down the street, right in front of her old home.Three men—broad-shouldered, purposeful—stepped out of her ex-husband’s house.Even from this distance, Melissa recognized the dangerous grace in their movements.They weren’t friends, casually dropping by for coffee.They were the men that had accompanied her to pick up her sons.They’d ensured her safety while she gathered her precious boys, bringing them away from their father.

For a brief moment, her stomach twisted when she wondered if this time with her boys was almost over.Tom would come storming over, demanding that she get away fromhissons.However, instead of her furious ex-husband, the faint wail of sirens came closer, rising in pitch as they approached.

She knew what that meant, and it presumably wasn’t good for Tom.Melissa paused, only for a minute, to savor this moment.But then Jacob pulled her attention back and she knew, deep down in her soul, that she couldn’t let her little darlings see their father being arrested.That would traumatize them forever.

So instead of gloating, or dancing with glee, Melissa turned back to her children.

“Boys,” she called, her voice brisk but calm.“Time to go.”

They grumbled a little as she herded them quickly into her car, fastening car seat straps with quick, efficient movements.She didn’t look back until she was pulling out of the parking lot.The red and blue lights flashing in her rearview mirror confirmed what she already suspected.

Tom was hurt.Maybe worse.And if justice had any sense, he was about to be arrested.

Melissa drove until the sounds of the sirens faded away, and only then did she stop at a small pizza place on the edge of her neighborhood.The boys chattered happily over pepperoni slices, their voices slowing, their eyes drooping with exhaustion as the excitement of the day overwhelmed them.

By the time she ushered them into her cramped apartment, their energy was spent.The three of them built a fort in the living room with sheets and pillows, just like she had when they were younger, the kind of magic she could still create even in a tiny space with peeling paint and threadbare carpet.The boys crawled inside, collapsing with tired giggles before sleep claimed them, their breaths evening out in the cozy dark of their makeshift “castle”.

Melissa sat outside the fort, her phone buzzing insistently against the coffee table.Tom’s name flashed across the screen, message after message appearing.

Get down here, Melissa.Hospital.Now!

An hour later, she received another text message.Don’t you dare ignore me—you owe me this!Police station.Bail me out!

And thirty minutes later,If you don’t, you’ll regret it.

Her thumb hovered for a moment, then she pressed the side button, silencing the device.She wasn’t going to let him invade her peace tonight.Not when she finally had her boys.

Melissa slipped into the sheet fort, curling around her sons as they slept.She pressed a kiss to each forehead, inhaling the warm, familiar scent of her children.

For the first time in what felt like forever, she smiled as she closed her eyes.

She was home.

Chapter 25

Tonybrushedhislipsover her shoulder, lingering there a moment as if he could brand her with the heat of his mouth.“You’re mine,” he murmured against her skin, his voice low, rough.“I know you don’t know what that means yet.”

Naomi shifted closer, curling into him like she belonged there, her cheek pressed to his chest.She breathed him in—his strength, his steadiness, that mix of spice and soap that clung to him.“You’re mafia, aren’t you?”she whispered.

Tony didn’t answer.He didn’t know what to say.If he spoke, he’d have to admit the truth, and right now all he wanted was for her to think of him as the man who held her when she shattered, not the monster who controlled Chicago’s underworld.

She pulled back slightly, squirming in his arms, and he almost cursed out loud at the surge of hunger that shot through him.He forced his hands to still.She was hurt.That bastard down the street had tried to take from her what was his to cherish.She was shaken, bruised, fragile.Remember that,he warned himself.

But then she looked up at him, and her words shattered his restraint.

“You’re a wonderful, amazing man,” Naomi whispered.She reached up, cupping his face as though he was something precious.She kissed him, a soft brush of lips that undid him more completely than any gunfight, any war.Every time she touched him, his mind emptied of everything but her.

What was it about this woman?He didn’t understand it, but he knew one thing: when she’d been terrified, when she needed safety, she had come to him.

She’d chosen him.

That knowledge was heady.Fierce.He hadn’t been able to protect his mother, hadn’t been able to stop the violence that stole her from him.But Naomi—she was here.She trusted him.He could protect her.Hewouldcontinue to protect her.

“I love you, Tony,” she whispered, brushing her lips over his again with a tenderness that melted his heart.

The groan tore from his chest before he could stop it.He kissed her back, careful of her bruises, desperate not to hurt her but unable to hold back the tidal wave of need.

“Make love to me, Tony,” she begged against his lips.“Please?”