Top Dog

By Rye Hart

They call me a thug. Fierce. Unpredictable.
There's a new top dog in town, and I'm taking what's mine.
Julia was taken from me. Forced to keep a secret.
Now, I'm in charge and things are about to get crazy.

She's the only woman I've ever wanted.
And the only one I could never have.

There's pain behind her mesmerizing eyes.
Unspoken words behind those sensual lips.
She's been keeping a secret.
One that has everything to do with me.

I curse the world for keeping her away for so long.
This time NOTHING comes between us.
I'm taking what's mine – even if I have to put down every bastard who gets in my way.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Rye Hart
• Release date: Jun 9, 2020
• ISBN: 9781393912002

Book preview

Chapter 1

Julia

This is all so surreal.

I felt my nerves creep up my spine as I sat in the parking lot of the restaurant. I couldn't believe I was about to meet Romeo after six years.

He’d taken over his father’s seat. Head of the Martine family.

The news of his decision to take over the family business had shattered my dreams of a happily ever after. I’d seen too much and experienced too much. And now that I was a mother to a beautiful precious little boy, I had to keep my hands clean.

Matteo was beginning to ask questions, so the silence needed to be broken.

Everyone knew of our tryst. The two lovers from rival families who found love in the oddest of places. And I had to admit, I’d loved Romeo Martine once.

His deep blue eyes had called to me.

His words had melted my heart.

I’d always been putty in that man’s hands.

But more than that, he was respectable. Good to his core. Which was why it sickened me when he took his father’s place. Our families ripped us apart, forbidding us to be together, and I was shipped off. Forced to raise Matteo alone.

For years, I had dreamed of us getting back together, leaving New York City and starting a life of our own that didn’t involve the authorities and bloodshed and mayhem.

Until I heard of the death of Romeo’s father. And Romeo’s ultimate ascension to the throne.

For decades, our families had been at war, and an innocent city I used to call home was caught in the middle of it all. The Martines and the Bianchis, always killing and always feuding, trying to one-up the other and falling short.

Red tainted the streets and bodies dumped into unmarked graves were all that remained of some of my cousins.

My brothers.

And my father.

A car accident, they said. I heard the rumors that someone from the Martine family ordered a hit on my father. There was no proof, yet after years of rivalry, nothing could be put past the Martines. I knew Romeo wasn’t capable of such a thing, but his link to the Martine Family was always the source of torment in my life.

Uncle Stefano urged me to make amends with Romeo. He’d always meant well, especially after my father’s died. News of his death had sent my uncle into a tailspin. But instead of reaching for his gun, he reached for his phone and informed the family of his want to make peace and he took up my father’s place in the family as the patriarch, the shot caller. And though I hated what our families stood for in the community, I could get behind his message of peace.

That was why I was sitting in the parking lot of the first restaurant Romeo ever took me.

To make peace.

To make the impossible somehow... possible.

No pressure Julia. You’ve only got the future of your family riding on your shoulders.

I clutched my purse and pulled out my phone. Uncle Stefano had already sent me pictures of Matteo. He was riding piggyback on one of my cousins with a massive smile on his face. More and more every day, he looked like his father.

He had my brown hair with those thick red streaks, but he had his father’s blue eyes and his father’s scowl whenever he was upset.

He even had his father’s tall stature. He stood taller than every single kid his age that he’d come across.

Sighing, I stuck my phone back into my purse. I climbed out of my car and smoothed my hands down my dress, then made my way to the restaurant. So many memories came flying back. The red dress I had on for our first date. The corner booth we sat in so no one would spot us. The drinks we threw back and the way his foot slid up my bare leg during dinner.

How he fucked me against the bathroom wall when I’d escaped to the women’s restroom with a wink.

I walked into the restaurant, spotting a man at the back of the room who stood up from the same booth we’d giggled in almost seven years ago.

I felt my heart race.

Holy fuck.

I’d know those blue eyes anywhere, and his thick head of dark brown hair almost blended into the background. He towered over everyone else, a cool six-foot-five, and the suit cut against his body clung to every muscle. I nodded at the hostess and began walking toward him, trying to draw deep breaths.

But he was as sexy as he had ever been.

He was stacked with more muscle than I remembered, but still gorgeous. There was a grin set upon his cheeks, and his chiseled jaw stood out against the shadows of the restaurant.

His legs were long and his waist was slim. His shoulders and chest were impossibly broad, and I waited for the fabric stretched across them to groan and give way. His large hands reached toward me in greeting.

It was his lips, however, that drew me in. That pouty lower lip I loved sucking on years ago.

Julia.

I stepped up to him and clutched my purse in front of me. I felt my legs wobbling in my heels. The way he looked at me, I could tell he was impressed.

His eyes danced along the curves my past pregnancy had brought about and stopped at my legs, shimmering with smoothness and glistening in the pale light of the restaurant.

I saw him lick his lips.

My legs had always been his favorite part of me, and he was making no show of trying to hide his appreciation for them.

But he was guarded, and so was I.

You look good, I said.

Took the words from my mouth, Romeo said.

Oh, his voice. That smooth, velvety timbre against my ears.

It’s been a while, Romeo said.

It has.

Care to take a seat?

His arm ushered out toward the booth, and I slid in, glad to put a barrier between us.

I’m sorry for not responding to your messages for so long, I said.

Romeo’s eyes hooked onto mine, and I could feel myself falling into his trance again. I felt myself swirling in his beautiful eyes. My feet started gravitating toward his warmth underneath the table.

Get it together, Julia. He’s still the head of the Martine family.

You owe me nothing. It’s your father that owes me an apology, Romeo said.

And since he isn’t alive to deliver that apology, consider this from him, I said, bristling slightly.

I didn’t mean to sound inconsiderate.

You play the part well, I said flatly.

Would the two of you care for a glass of wine tonight?

I looked over at the waitress and saw her smiling kindly at me.

No, thank you. But I would enjoy some water, I said.

Water for me as well, Romeo said. Also, two steaks, medium rare. Mushrooms on hers but not on mine. Each with a side of garlic broccoli, then add a salad to mine and fries to hers.

I stared at Romeo, attempting to hide my disbelief.

The beautiful bastard remembered.

I’ll get right on it and have your waters out soon, the waitress said.

So, Romeo said as he unbuttoned his suit jacket, how’s Matteo?

The sound of my son’s name falling from his lips pulled me from my trance.

How do you know his name? I asked.

He’s my son. I know a great deal about him.

I narrowed my eyes slightly as I scooted heavily into the cushion at my back.

Is he not my son? Romeo asked.

I swallowed thickly as the server set our waters in front of us.

Thank you, I said as I reached for the glass.

I took a long pull before I set it back down on the table.

He is, I said. Matteo’s your son.

I would like to see him.

No, I said plainly.

You just said he’s my son. I would enjoy being a part of his life. Something your father didn’t give me a chance to do.

Are you done blaming a dead man for your quarrels? I asked.

I watched his eyebrows shoot up to his hairline. Yeah, I wasn't the timid, meek-minded girl from seven years ago. I had a son, and I meant to keep him out of the hands of the families. I was determined to keep him away from this lifestyle, to shield him from everything I’d witnessed as a little girl.

You can’t see him, I said.

Might I ask why?

Because I’m keeping him away from everything to do with—

I bit the inside of my cheek as Romeo nodded his head.

I see.

Why did you do it? I asked.

Do what?

Why did you take your father’s place?

I watched something flash behind his eyes, but I couldn’t decipher what it was. Guilt. Pain. Possibly anger? I wasn’t sure. That was the thing with Romeo. He was good at covering up his feelings.

The first time he told me he loved me, I wasn’t even expecting it.

You won’t let me see my son because I took over my family’s business, Romeo said.

That’s correct.

Your side isn’t exactly innocent in all that’s gone on between our families, Romeo reminded me. The mafia has no bearing on whether or not I can see my son.

The mafia also has no bearing on me allowing my son in your presence. I’m not here on my own behest. I won’t put my son in the line of fire if I don’t have to.

Then on whose behest are you here? Romeo asked.

I drew in a deep breath and closed my eyes.

You have to understand where I’m coming from, I said. Matteo is precious. A boy full of curiosity and light. A life in the mafia—

I opened my eyes and saw our waitress headed to our table. She placed our food in front of us, but I was no longer hungry. This was a mistake. If Romeo seeing Matteo was what Uncle Stefano wanted to use to bring peace, I couldn't make that happen.

Matteo wasn’t a bargaining chip.

I got peace. I enjoyed peace. I understood the need for it. But I couldn’t do it. As much as I wanted to support my uncle’s agenda, the mere idea of exposing Matteo to the world of the mafia immobilized me.

I couldn't do it.

I had dreams, you know, I said.

Dreams of what? Romeo asked.

Of you coming back. Of me introducing you to your son. Of us running away together with Matteo and starting a new life.

I panned my gaze over to his and watched him stab at his broccoli.

He was cool. Collected. Calm. Like the lifestyle he had chosen didn’t even bother him.

He was the father of my child and looking at him now made me want to cry.

I’m so disappointed in you, I said.

I can see that, Romeo said.

I thought you were better than that. Than all of this. Did those late-night conversations mean nothing to you?

We were clueless children, Julia. You knew from the beginning my rightful place was where I’m sitting now.

Not when we were talking at two in the morning and you were professing your love to me. You serenaded me with lies about running off and being together. Lies I clung to. Lies that kept me going during the years we were apart. During the months I was pregnant. During the sleepless nights with Matteo and the screaming and the teething and the diapers and the constant fear that someone would make him a target.

I looked around to see if anyone was listening.

We’re safe, Romeo said coolly. I made certain you were looked after all those years we were apart.

And that was when I became painfully aware of the position I had been put in. Not only was I with Romeo, but I was also with his goons. Men employed to protect him.

What do you mean I was safe all those years? I asked.

I had to be certain of your safety. I had eyes and ears on you, he said flatly.

You mean you spied on me. I said. What now? Are your men going to stop me if I try to leave? 

You’re free to go whenever you want, he said. "But I am going to see my son."

Not as long as you’re the head of the Martine family, you won’t.

You can’t keep me from him any longer. I have as much right to that boy as you do.

That ‘boy’ is a privilege, I said. And you lost it when you thought you could delve into the bloodied affairs of the family business and still keep your hands clean enough to stroke your son’s cheek.

His eyes were icy. The warmth of his blue embers faded into a dim light I’d only seen one other time. I rolled my shoulders back and prepared myself for a fight. I wasn’t sitting here one more second than I needed to. This man wasn’t going to lay a hand on my son, and he sure as hell wasn’t going to demand to see him out of some right of being a sperm donor.

I felt foolish for agreeing to meet up with Romeo. I should have known the discussion would go south. I’d foolishly hoped that Romeo hadn’t known about his son but it was wishful thinking. Even so, I could never agree to his request to meet Matteo.

He had made his decision. He knew how I felt about getting out. He knew that was my goal.

He had made his choice, and it was time for me to make mine.

I stood from the booth and watched as six men stood up around me. My eyes locked hard on Romeo’s face and he held up his hand, signaling his air-headed assholes to stand down.

I thought you said I was free to go.

You know how they operate, Romeo said.

I scoffed and shook my head as I backed away from the table.

Are you sure you aren’t hungry?

No, this whole conversation has ruined my appetite, I said.

Pity. I was hoping to bask in your beauty a bit longer.

Flattery won’t get you anywhere.

So you’ve decided that we have no future together then?

I made the mistake of looking into his eyes and felt my knees growing weak again. I reached for my purse and clutched it tightly to me, allowing the feeling of the material to root me into reality.

It didn’t matter how I felt.

What I thought.

What I thought could be between us.

It shattered my heart that Romeo had chosen this lifestyle instead of me. He may have watched over us all these years but he hadn’t come after me or his son before now. The strong, family oriented alpha male hadn’t whisked us away from this dangerous life. And now he was enmeshed in it.

And that meant I had to protect Matteo from his own father.

"I will see my son, he said again. I have a right to be in his life."

Without thinking, I loomed over Romeo until my shadow was covering his face. Close enough to feel the heat of his body emanating toward me. Close enough to be reminded of the reason why I’d succumbed to him in the first place.

Close enough to smell the cologne he hadn’t changed in over six years.

Over my dead body, I said.

Chapter 2

Romeo

She’s one fucking woman.

I closed my eyes as I leaned back in bed, my mind replaying that moment.

How she loomed over me.

How her hazel eyes grew deep with protective anger.

How her words stung me to my core. I couldn’t show weakness in front of my bodyguards. I had to keep up appearances as best as I could, but I’d wanted to reach out to her and spin her around, take her into my arms, plant my lips upon hers, and show her I was still the man she remembered.

The man she had dreamed about.

The man who craved to the core of my being to live free of darkness and gloom.

I didn’t want the position. When my father died  I had to step up. I was weeks away from making my move to go find Julia. For years, I’d held her memory in my mind. For months, I’d wondered why she left me. Why she skipped town without a word and never came back. And it wasn’t until I used my father’s resources to track her down that I figured out why.

Her father sent her away because people knew about us, but he kept her away because she had gotten pregnant.

Out of duty, I took the position. But I swore to my family things would be different, that I would make things different. The streets of New York had seen enough death and anger and destruction. What everyone needed was for our two families to work together. I was determined to creep us out of the grasp of the federal authorities and become a legitimate operation, a family that protected the streets we loved instead of keeping it in this vice grip of fear and blood.

That was my dream.

An era of peace.

Julia had looked spectacular. Her hazel eyes, speckled with flakes of gray and yellow, were as beautiful as I remembered. Her long brown hair with those luscious red streaks made her tan skin glow. Soft. Supple, with curves that had blossomed as she had become a woman and mother. The dress she wore clung to her breasts and nipped in at her waist before flaring over a pair of hips that had my cock pressing against my pants all through dinner.

But her strength.

Where the hell had that come from?

She used to be so mild; even-tempered and quiet. Her voice had been a soft whisper in the wind compared to the forcefulness she used at dinner. I remembered her as a fragile dove, but what I got was a winged eagle, with talons bared, ready to fling whatever got in her way into the air to die a lonely, heartbroken death.

She looked so fucking good.

Our time together as teenagers had been fleeting; a few months at the most before we were found out. And my favorite memories of us were when we snuck out in the middle of the night. We’d joyride around the city and find mischief to get ourselves into.

Late night walks in the park and horror movies that made her jump into my lap.

Fuck. My cock was getting hard thinking about it.

I stepped out of my bed. Removing my clothes, I crossed my bedroom and made my way to my shower. Not even bothering with the hot water, I cranked the cold all the way and stepped underneath the massive rainwater spray. The cold water fell onto my skin like needles, but I didn’t care to warm it up. I needed the cold and the sobering effect it provided.

Instinctively, my hand drifted down to my massive erection. I closed my eyes and conjured her memory.

Her soft skin grinding against mine in the backseat of my fucking car.

It was my favorite moment with her. Out of all the times we’d snuck out, and all the times I’d buried myself deep into her wet pussy, that was my favorite.

Because it was the first time she told me she loved me.

And by my count, it was the night we had conceived Matteo.

Her hair fluttered around her shoulders as I slammed into her. She jumped, her tits bouncing in my face as her pussy soaked my