Page 23 of Mafia Princess

“Is Mason awake?” I take a sip of my coffee before tearing off a piece of brioche and shoving it in my mouth.

“When are you going to eat like a lady?” Vana chuckles and shakes her head at me.

“When I turn into one,” I shove another piece into my mouth and chew with my mouth open.

“Make sure you’re on your best behavior tonight.” She starts to load the dishwasher.

“Why?” I stare at her, silently willing her to spill the beans.

“I am not entitled to say anymore.” Vana closes the dishwasher, turns it on, and promptly leaves the kitchen.

I gaze after her and wonder what she knows that I don’t.

I spend the day lazing by the indoor pool with my babies. They love to swim in the pool. As much as Papa hates it, he doesn’t argue with me when it comes to them. Probably the only thing we don’t butt heads about. Every other subject seems to be ripe for the picking. If we need to discuss it, no doubt we’re shouting about it at each other. Papa disappeared after I heard his shouting match over the phone after breakfast and I haven’t seen Mason yet. I wonder if he’s avoiding me.

_ _ _

The sun sets over the horizon painting the sky in a blood orange glow. I stand on the front lawn and throw the tennis ball for Midnight and Storm, their playful wrestling over the toy making me smile.

Everyone has been MIA all day, and I’m starting to question why Papa asked me here. Just as Storm returns with the ball in her mouth, the front gate opens and in rolls a cavalcade of blacked-out SUVs. I watch them amble along the driveway until they’re parked by the front of the house.

Like synchronized swimmers, they all depart their bulletproof chariots. Papa and Mason climb out of the first two cars and I wonder what the fuck is going on. Milan, Tommaso, and their two bodyguards exit the back two cars. Fucking great.

Mason waves at me to join them and I groan in defeat. “Let’s go, girls.” I pat my babies on their heads and we stalk toward the house. Like they were trained, both girls flank me, walking in step with me, on guard.

“Maya, lock your dogs up.” Papa frowns at me when we approach them.

My eyes slide to Milan in his black jeans and black tight t-shirt. I’ve never seen him this casual, and it makes me see him in a new light. Human. His gaze focuses on the bruising on my face and I can feel that he wants to question me.

“Mason, we need to talk later.” I glare at my brother.

“The fuck happened to you?” He steps towards me and both girls stand and growl at him.

“Maya, control your dogs.” Papa grits through clenched teeth.

“It’s okay.” I pat my girls and scratch them behind the ears, letting them know they can sit.

The wary look on both Milan and Tommaso has me grinning ear to ear. Take note, you fuckers. These girls will rip your throats out if you come near me.

“Who the fuck did this to you?” Mason looks pissed.

“We’ll talk later.” I glance at Milan for a split second before deciding to head inside. I whistle to my girls to follow me, leaving the men to talk amongst themselves.

I take them to my room and feed them their favorite snacks before closing the door. They’ll sleep until I return. I head downstairs to the kitchen to find Vana has dinner prepared and is setting up the formal dining room.

“Are they here for dinner?” I sit on the island bench and pick at the potato salad with my fingers.

“I hope you washed your hands.” Vana shakes her head at me with a frown.

“Nope, but the girls are clean.” I grin at her and pop another piece of potato in my mouth.

“Make yourself useful and take the bread to the table.” Vana hands me the wooden chopping board with the fresh bread on it and the bread knife.

“Fine.” I jump down and head to the dining room.

“Wife duties look good on you.” Milan’s voice startles me, making me nearly drop the knife.

I ignore him and place the bread on the table before turning in his direction. “I don’t do wife.” I scowl at him.

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