His Other Half

Daphne

I check the time on my way out of his room and swear under my breath. Almost eleven. I'm already late for my morning shift at the diner, and Mr. Hank won't take it lightly this time.

I twist my hair into a rough bun as I walk, still half convinced none of last night was real.

The staircase opens onto the rest of the house and I stop walking. It looks massive. Marble floors, a chandelier the size of my old bedroom, a wall of windows looking out over grounds that go on longer than my entire street. There's a painting on the landing that looks like it belongs in a museum, not a hallway. One could tell how much wealth the owner has acquired to own a house like this.

I start down the stairs, eyes still taking in the beauty of the place, not believing I spent the night here, in the bedroom of the man who owns it.

I'm halfway to the bottom when the front door bangs open hard enough to echo through the whole place.

"Julian. Julian Macini, come down here."

Julian Macini? Oh my God. Is the man whose nakedness I'd just seen the heir to the Macini crime family? The wealthiest family in Texas, the ones who own half the entire state?

"JULIAN!" the woman calls out again.

She's beautiful in a way that feels engineered, ginger hair, sharp cheekbones, a coat that probably costs a fortune, the kind of striking that belongs on a magazine cover rather than a doorway. There's a little girl beside her, maybe five, clutching a stuffed rabbit and staring up at the house like she knows it better than the woman does.

Her eyes land on me and stop.

"Well." She crosses her arms, taking her time over the oversized shirt hanging off my shoulder, the bare legs underneath it. "So he's brought his little whore home."

"I'm not his whore," I manage.

"No?" Her mouth curls. "You're wearing his clothes. Half naked. Julian doesn't let anyone touch his clothes, and you're in them?"

"Katrina." His voice comes from the top of the stairs, flat and hard in a way I haven't heard from him yet. "What do you want. I told you I'd be at the hospital this morning."

"Daddy!" The little girl breaks away from Katrina's hand and runs for the stairs, and something in his face changes completely, all that hardness gone in an instant. He comes down and scoops her up before she reaches the bottom step.

"Hey, little champ." He presses his forehead to hers. "How's my girl?"

"I missed you, Daddy."

"I missed you too."

A wife. A daughter. I stand there feeling something in my chest go cold and stupid, because for one insane second last night I let myself wonder about a man I don't even know the name of, a man who looked at me like he wanted to eat me raw and then didn't, and none of it means anything, because he has a whole life I have no part of.

"Julian." Katrina's voice sharpens. "So this little slut is the reason you didn't show up?"

"Watch your tone." He doesn't raise his voice, but something in it does the work instead. "She's not a slut. And I've told you not to use language like that around Lily."

Julian sets his daughter down. "Go on ahead, baby. Daddy will be right there."

Lily scampers off toward the kitchen, and Katrina waits until she's gone before turning back on him.

"How many times have I told you to call before showing up here?"

"This is still my house too, Julian. I can come whenever I want. I was in the hospital, waiting for you to clear the bill, and you never showed."

"I told you I'd come this morning. You should have waited."

"It's eleven." Her voice climbs. "It's eleven in the morning, and you were supposed to be there earlier."

I've heard enough. Whatever this is, it isn't mine to stand in the middle of.

"Excuse me." I make it two steps past them before his hand closes around my wrist. "I should go. Thank you for everything."

It comes out steadier than I feel. Somewhere behind the humiliation there's something else, something that feels dangerously close to hurt, which makes no sense, because this man is nothing to me. A stranger who pulled me off a floor. That's all.

"Wait." He doesn't let go.

"please…”

"Julian. You heard her. She wants to leave. Let her go." Katrina's eyes stay locked on his hand around my wrist.

"She's my woman."

The house goes very quiet.

"Excuse me?" Katrina lets out a laugh that has no humor in it at all. "You can't be serious. You don't date down, Julian. Look at her. She looks like she crawled out of a gutter. Your expensive shirt on her doesn't cover the fact that she's filth."

His hand circles my waist and he pulls me flush against his hard chest before I can even register the movement. Then his mouth is on mine. My eyes fly open in shock.

His lips are firm, warm, moving against mine slow at first, testing, like he's waiting to see if I'll pull away. I don't, because I feel it in my very soul, cracking me open and filling me with something I don't have a name for.

I part for him and he slips his tongue inside my mouth, exploring me, his tongue sliding against mine, and the whole world narrows down to the taste of him and the heat of his hand around my waist.

He pulls back slow, his mouth grazing mine once more before he lets go, and I stand there breathing hard, staring at his mouth like it holds the answer to something.

"Play along," he murmurs, low enough that only I catch it.

When I meet Katrina's eyes, she looks frozen in place. There's fury burning behind them that she quickly shoves away, replacing it with a mask that says she doesn't care.

Then, louder, to Katrina, "We've been seeing each other for a while now. We're serious."

Katrina's eyes rake over me again, uglier this time. "She's a child. She's a minor."

"I'm not." My voice comes out sharper than I mean it to. "I just turned nineteen."

"And Julian Macini is forty one." She says it like it settles something. "Old enough to be your father. What are you doing with a man like him if you're not some cheap whore looking for a sugar daddy to pay your bills."

"Don't call her that." His grip tightens, not on me, on nothing, just a fist at his side. "Don't disrespect my woman in my house. Leave, Katrina. I'm keeping Lily for the weekend. She'll be fine."

"Fine." Katrina steps back toward the door, but not before her eyes cut to me one more time. "Whatever game you're playing with this trash, hurry up and discard her. This is still my home, and I am still Mrs. Macini. Until that divorce is final, you don't get to do this in our house."

The door slams behind her.

I pull my hand free the second it's quiet. "Why did you do that?"

"I'm sorry. I just needed to put her in line. She's my ex."

"She's not your ex. She just told you she's still Mrs. Macini." Saying his last name out loud for the first time feels strange in my mouth. "She's still legally your wife. Whatever this is, I don't want to be part of it."

I turn for the door. His voice stops me before I reach it.

"I have an offer for you, kid."

I don't turn around. "I'm not interested."

"Watch Lily for the weekend. I'll pay you."

That gets my attention, God help me, because my brother’s face flashes through my mind, the dialysis bills my father refused to cover.

Ever since my mother died and he married and brought his mistress and her daughter into our home, he’s simply refused to do anything for us. I’m working three jobs to save up for college and to take care of my brother the best way I can.

“How much?”

“Fifty thousand.”

My brother needs more than that just to get through the next round of treatment. I cross my arms, hating myself a little for what I’m about to do. “Too small. A hundred.”

Something flickers across his face, surprise maybe, or something closer to respect. “A hundred thousand it is. But on one condition.”

He crosses the space between us before I can step back, close enough that I have to tip my head to hold his eyes.

“You play by my rules. For however long you’re in this house being my daughter’s nanny, you do as I say.”