Page 84 of Vicious Redemption

The Romneys both join in politely, the mayor’s eyes twinkling with his familiar affection for Tia.

“And you, Leo, how is the thought of fatherhood settling with you?” Mayor Romney asks, his tone polite—amicable even.

“I look forward to it,” I say, keeping it simple.

Clearly, they’re making an effort to mend fences, and I’ll do my part for Tia’s sake. But it’s going to take more than a few polite conversations to forget about the accusations the mayor threw my way.

“Leah, Hannah, have you ever seen the Lion King before?” Tia asks, turning her attention to the mayor’s daughters.

They both shake their heads shyly, but Sofia seems less deterred by the presence of strangers. And while she’s roughly a year older than the oldest Romney girl, I would say that only seems to bolster Sofia’s confidence.

“I haven’t either,” she admits. “But Leo says it’s a sin to go through life without seeing the Lion King before you grow up.”

Once again, Sofia’s grave demeanor resembles that of a sage old man imparting invaluable wisdom, though she’s not yet nine years old. Beside me, Tia struggles to muffle her laughter.

But the Romney girls seem to take Sofia’s information as important information. And they nod with wide-eyed trust before their glances shift toward me.

“It’s a good thing we’re watching it tonight, then, isn’t it?” Mayor Romney states, his eyes dancing with laughter.

The three young girls all murmur in agreement.

Silence falls, and for a moment, the Romneys linger.

Then, the mayor seems to conclude they’ve done a decent enough job of clearing the air for a first attempt since my father’s mourning procession.

“Anyway, it was wonderful to see you all. Tia, Leo, I hope we can catch up again soon,” Mayor Romney says, offering each of us his hand.

“I would like that,” Tia agrees, her tone politely guarded.

But I know she misses their friendship, so once again, I bite the bullet and shake the mayor’s hand.

“We’ll find a time,” I offer, and the Romneys’ smiles widen with a mingled appreciation and relief.

“I want to come,” Sofia whispers to her sister as soon as the Romneys depart.

Tia smiles affectionately and strokes her sister’s hair in a maternal display of affection. “I’m sure the girls would love that,” she agrees.

Sofia beams, and beside her, Maria shares a smile with her older sister.

Our server comes around a short time later to collect the dessert order, and after that, it’s time for us to find our seats.

“We should be up and to the left,” I say, directing the Guerras toward the box I’ve reserved for us exclusively.

Tia and I lead the way, her sisters jostling excitedly behind us as they argue about who gets to sit next to whom.

Pulling back the curtains to our private area, my guards quickly scan the space before stepping back to allow us to enter.

“It’s my turn to sit next to Tia,” Vienna whines, pushing out her lower lip as she and Sofia continue to argue about seating arrangements. “You got to all through dinner.”

“But it’s my birthday next week!” Sofia wails. “This is the only present I even want, but you won’t let me have it.”

“Girls, that’s enough,” Signora Guerra scolds.

“Tia, Leo, why don’t you take the front with Sofia and Vienna—if you don’t mind.” Don Guerra cuts his eyes toward his two youngest daughters. “That is if you girls can stay silent and stay in your seats. Are we agreed?”

“Yes, yes!” they chorus.

“That’s fine with me,” Tia says.

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