Page 83 of Mafia King's Secret Baby

Sleepily, Luna turns to Elio. “Would you like to read a story with me for bedtime?”

“I would love to,” he says, the words a little thick.

“Alright then. Here we go,” I smile and give Luna a little tickle before following her to the bedroom.

I supervise the bath and tooth brushing, and when she’s all clean and tucked into the new pajamas that Nonna Francesca picked up for her, I bring her into the room with Elio.

Luna hops into the bed and grabs one of the books, thrusting it out to him. “This one,” she chirps. The frantic gleam in her eyes can mean only one thing, and I frown.

She squeaks with glee as Elio takes the book, and my theory is confirmed.

Oh, lord. The nighttime zoomies are upon us.

“Remember Lu, it’s quiet time now,” I say in a low, soothing voice.

“I remember! Quiet time!” she shrieks.

“Your choices are to be quiet now and listen to your book, or to wait until you’re ready to be quiet, when you can read your book.”

Controlled choice is a lifesaver. Luna ponders her options. “Be quiet now,” she whispers, her eyes darting to Elio.

Elio pulls a chair from the vanity over to the bed. Luna, trying her best to be calm, pats the bed. “Sit here please!” she trills.

I need to talk to her about inviting strange men into her bed, I mentally note.

Elio, to his credit, stays in the chair. “I think tonight I want to sit here. Why did you pick this book?” he asks, genuinely curious.

“Mommy says it’s in Italian and she doesn’t read Italian. Do you read Italian?” Luna asks, suddenly quite concerned that she’s made an error.

Oh, that’s right. This book is one that Nonna Francesca picked up for her.

Elio nods. “I do speak Italian.”

“Do you read Italian?”

He laughs. “I read it too.”

“Cool,” Luna smiles.

Elio opens the book and starts to read.

I catch a word here and there. I use the chance to fold some of Luna’s clothes and put them in drawers, letting Elio’s smooth Italian flow over me like silk.

No one should read a children’s book in this tone.

It’s criminally sexy.

Eventually, Elio closes the book. I turn as I hear it softly close, and catch him looking down at Luna.

His eyes are shiny, like there’s tears behind them.

But that can’t be right.

Elio Rossi never cries.

“Is she asleep?” he whispers.

She snores softly, answering the question for both of us.

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