Bodyguard Baby Daddy

Bodyguard Baby Daddy A Brother's Best Friend Forbidden Mafia Romance Fiona Stone Copyright 2023 by Fiona Stone - All rights reserved. In no way is it legal to reproduce, duplicate, or transmit any part of this document in either electronic means or in printed format. Recording of this publication is strictly prohibited and any storage of this document is not allowed unless with written permission from the publisher. All rights reserved. Respective authors own all copyrights not held by the publisher. Contents 1. Chapter 1 2. Chapter 2 3. Chapter 3 4. Chapter 4 5. Chapter 5 6. Chapter 6 7. Chapter 7 8. Chapter 8 9. Chapter 9 10. Chapter 10 11. Chapter 11 12. Chapter 12 13. Chapter 13 14. Chapter 14 15. Chapter 15 16. Chapter 16 17. Chapter 17 18. Chapter 18 19. Chapter 19 20. Chapter 20 21. Chapter 21 22. Chapter 22 23. Chapter 23 24. Chapter 24 25. Chapter 25 26. Chapter 26 27. Chapter 27 28. Chapter 28 29. Chapter 29 30. Epilogue Chapter 1 Sebastian The far off sounds of airplane tires screeching as they hit tarmac disappears as Carlos opens my car door. He throws his luggage onto the backseat and then wrenches the front door open. “My man,” he says. “Take me to Ocean Drive.” He sits down in the front seat beside me, and we share a few beats of silence. I burst out laughing. “Carlos, it’s good to see you,” I say, moving in for a hug. Carlos is all grins and immediately kicks his shoes off. “I never woulda thought it possible, but I think you mighta got a bit of a tan while you were up in New York.” He laughs and rolls his window down despite the rain. “Yeah, just comin’ outta summer up there, Seb. It’s hot in the city. Place is muggy as shit.” “Muggy as shit? Listen to you,” I pull out from the curb and merge into traffic. The sign above us reads Farewell from Miami International! There’s a group of air stewards waving down at us. Carlos just laughs, though. “Man, they weren’t so happy up in the air,” he says, gesturing at the billboard. “Lady refused me drinks twice. Asked for ID. Shit was embarrassing.” “Who for?” I chuckle and change lanes, taking the first exit to get onto the highway. “It’s that baby face of yours. Still rocking it after all these years.” “It’s a curse, man. Why’d you think I grew a beard?” I shake my head, and we just watch the road for a bit. It’s raining despite the dry season, and the humidity because of it is unbearable, even with the windows down. At least my AC brought some chill, but Carlos is licking his lips and bumming a pack of cigarettes from his backpack. “Can I smoke?” he asks. “Be my guest.” He lights up, and the tip of the smoke glows orange. “No place like home,” he says. He fiddles with the radio and searches the stations. His hands have become heavily calloused and scarred since I last saw him. It’s been years since my childhood best-friend left. “Does this crap heap get anything?” “Nope.” I smile and point at the roof. “Some kids clipped my antenna a while back, just haven’t replaced it yet.” “You haven’t replaced it? Shit, I’m in the car with Hannibal Lector. You’re trying to torture me or something.” He gives up trying to find some music. “Uh uh,” I pull out into the highway lanes and speed up, start heading for Hialeah. “Even if I replaced it, some kids would just clip it again. Besides, we don’t sit in traffic for hours on end down here like you’re used to. Plenty of side lanes and back alleys to take to wherever you gotta go.” “Yeah, New York had side alleys and back alleys too, but you gotta keep a piece on you when taking ‘em.” “Where were you living then?” I ask. “You always kept silent about that.” Carlos shakes his head, frowning at the cars in front. “No point telling ya, better off protecting you from it. Too many places up in that Crab Apple you can run into trouble. Everyone likes to pretend it’s the greatest place in the world, but it wasn’t for me.” “Why’d you go then?” Carlos looks at me like I’m an idiot, shaking his head at the same time, his cigarette dangling back and forth in his mouth. “You’ve been hanging around those gossiping girls too much, man. Just focus on driving.” I laugh and give the radio a little bump, and a station comes on. “Can get the Eighties hits once we’re away from the airport. But what are you on about?” “I know you work for Sophie,” Carlos says. “Mimi’s said it a few times. Says you’re her bodyguard and shit. You’re some big man in the family.” I feel myself go slightly red. “I don’t think I’d say that.” “Well, you protect her. don’t ya? Luca Colombino’s woman and all.” “So you know about them then?” I change lanes and overtake a lady crawling along in a crapped out Subaru. She’s gripping the steering wheel and looking at the little waving Jesus on her dashboard as if she’s in need of a real co-driver. “I’ve been away, not dead,” he snorts. “Everybody knows about the Colombino and Russo merge. Even the Bratva wouldn’t shut up about it.” “Ahhhhh, so you were working with the Russians then?” Carlos shakes his head again. “Nah man. Don't wanna get mixed up with them. I knew a few dudes from a couple jobs, but those guys are hardcore. Fuck’n Russians are cutting off toes left, right, and centre. I felt my beard getting trimmed just being around them.” I burst out laughing and take the off ramp to go to Hialeah. The rain holds off for a bit, and the sun comes out. The heat is immediate, and I can