"The client in Mexico had the most beautiful daughter. Lupe. She's your mother." I refrained from telling him the part about her being sexy as fuck and wildly exciting, particularly in bed.
It had been a long time since I had had excitement that came with spending time with an uninhibited, daring woman. Except for when I was working, we were inseparable.
The affair was hot, wild, exciting, but that was all it was. No emotions were involved for either of us.
Then I discovered the client wasn't a successful legitimate businessman, but instead, the head of a drug cartel. And since I'd vowed that I wasn't going to provide services for criminals, I had to withdraw our services.
I didn't love Lupe, but neither did I want her in danger, so I offered to help her get away and start a new life. It shocked her to learn about her father, but in the end, she decided to stay. She didn't feel threatened by him, and she was probably right.
As long as she didn't defy him, he treated her like a princess.
"Your mom and I had some good times together, but then I had to come home, and she had to stay behind. I wish I'd known that she was pregnant with you. I would've been around to help her and you." I exited the dining room, heading through the family room. It still shocked me that she was pregnant at all. I had never been with a woman and not used a condom before. But I suppose it was possible it failed.
"I know you miss your mom. But she thought it would be best if you came up here to live with me. I know it's been hard and I'm working to figure this out. I promise." I wanted to get in touch with Lupe, but she didn't leave me contact information.
All she had told me was that she’d been able to hide the pregnancy from her family but couldn't keep the baby.
Things had gotten dangerous for her family, so she was leaving him with me. I had the know-how and the resources to track her down, but if she was in danger, then I didn't want to compromise her by getting in touch with her.
I didn't want to risk her family finding out about Mo, either. His safety was top priority.
As I reached the foyer, I realized he wasn't crying anymore. I kept moving, turning my head to see that he was sleeping. Thank fuck!
I made my way up the stairs to the nursery I prepared for him the day after he arrived. Moving slowly, in what felt like millimeter by millimeter, I lowered him into his crib. I lightly placed his blanket over him and backed away, being just as stealthy as I had been as a mercenary and a special ops soldier.
I made it to the hall, closing the door behind me, turning the knob as I pulled it shut and then slowly releasing it to avoid the sound of the door closing and the click of the latch. I took two steps toward my room, deciding to take a nap when Mo's wail broke through the quiet calm.
CHAPTERTWO
Harper
I was reclining on a plush, red chaise couch in the elite photography studio in Burbank, California. My long blonde hair hung in waves around my shoulders with a tendril hanging forward slanting across my eye, giving me a Veronica Lake look.
My eye makeup was smokey and seductive. My lipstick was a bright red. I crossed my right arm over my body, my hand holding my shoulder. My wrist was adorned with an Anne Erickson original watch and a gold charm bracelet.
"Okay, Harper, give me pouty seductress." The photographer, Miles Keene, was the best of the best, at least in Los Angeles, but probably in New York too.
I'd worked with him off and on over the years whenever the interest in modeling hit me. The truth was the interest had left long ago, but I was here today to support my best friend and sister-in-law Anne in her business venture; one-of-a-kind vintage style watches and jewelry.
"That's it. The camera loves you, Harper. You really should do this full time."
"No thanks."
"Okay, I want you to turn onto your back and lean your head back over the arm of the couch. Next, I want you to bring both arms overhead, crossing them at your wrist. Keep your fingers loose, but elegant."
I shifted, moving into the position.
"Dina, fix her hair. Let's have it hanging off the edge of the couch."
Miles' assistant hurried over. I lifted my head so she could gather my hair and position it the way Miles wanted it.
"Okay, that's good. Harper, tilt your head back, lifting your chin. Close your eyes. Turn your head just a little bit toward me. That's it right there." Miles' words were followed by the repetitive clicks of rapid-fire photography.
I hoped this was the last set of the day. Modeling could be exhausting, which was one reason why I never attempted to make it a career, despite Miles and others in the industry telling me I could.
I suppose the real reason I didn't do it was because I didn't have to. I was fortunate enough to come from a wealthy family. As awesome as that might sound, my parents died in an accident when I was fifteen. Their wealth was split between my brother and me.
In the three years that my brother raised me, he was in control of my portion of the funds and being the financial savant that he was, he'd invested it well so by the time I turned eighteen, I had enough wealth that I didn't have to work. Ever.