Page 32 of Daddy's Mad Love

However, since I wanted our outing to go well, I would not mention it.

“Of course I do. My mother would be highly disappointed in me if I did not. You do not want my mother to be disappointed in me, do you?” The only reaction she had to my charm was to press her lips together and huff a sigh. I was sure my new wife would not care in the least if my mother was disappointed in me; however, Hailey didn’t want to disappoint my mother.

I would press whatever advantage I had.

15

Hailey

The guard from the morning, Tomas, trailed behind us like an ever-looming specter at Giacomo’s shoulder.

Guarding Giacomo?

Guarding me?

Ensuring I did not run?

Most likely, some combination of all three.

People gave him a wide berth, eyeing him nervously and parting to let him through. Whenever we stopped, Tomas stood there menacingly watching over us, a large gap of space between himself and everyone else. Any thought I had of being able to slip away had been lost under his sharp eyes, if the lingering ache in my bottom hadn’t been enough.

I did not want to think what Giacomo might do to me to teach me another lesson. Besides which, we were legally married now. There was no one I could go to for help. Appealing to a friend would only endanger them, and he’d already given me an ample demonstration on why it was useless to turn to the police.

Feeling Giacomo’s eyes on me, I turned away, pretending to inspect some of the jewelry in the case. He’d finally stopped hovering and stepped back, allowing me to have some breathing space while he spoke to Tomas. It was amazing how people fawned over him. Whether because they knew who he was or because they dared not do anything else in Tomas’ intimidating presence, I wasn’t sure.

We were hardly the only ones in the store, though everyone else was keeping their distance from Giacomo and Tomas. All the salesmen were sweating, focusing on anyone but those two, though I knew if Giacomo crooked his finger, they’d all come running.

It was everything I’d run from, everything I’d rejected, and now here I was back in the Familias life. All because my grandfather had wanted an alliance with the DiNardo family. The resentment was bubbling up inside me all over again, some of it at myself. If only I’d had the courage… if only I was a different person…

Yet when I glanced over at Giacomo, despite everything, I still couldn’t actually wish him dead.

“Miss McQueen?” The woman’s voice was familiar, and I lifted my head, blinking in surprise when I saw the mayor’s wife, Mrs. Smith, standing there, clutching the hand of her six-year-old son, Arthur.

“Mrs. Smith. How are you?” It only took me a moment to realize that she was in distress. Again. Blasted… I wanted to scream at the injustice of it all. Adeline Smith had come into the police station last year when her husband had given her a black eye. He’d claimed it was an accident.

Nothing had been done.

She’d come to me several times since then, but Mayor Smith had always been smart enough not to hit her where it would leave a mark again, and the police chief had declined to take on such a powerful man. His advice… “Just don’t make him so mad.”

I’d been utterly helpless to help her, though I’d done my best to try to talk someone—anyone—into doing something.

She blinked back tears, lifting her chin slightly, keeping her voice low.

“Please, you have to help us, Miss McQueen. He… last night Arthur tried to defend me, and he…” She couldn’t make herself say the words.

Slow burning rage, combined with all the anger I had at my grandfather, at Giacomo, at Chief Barnes who had not protected me any more than he had Mrs. Smith, was boiling inside me. The mayor had hit his son. His six-year-old son… for trying to defend his mother.

She did not need to say it for me to know what had happened. A pattern I had seen far too often when working at the station. Prohibition had helped to make it harder for men to get drunk and go home to beat their wives, but not impossible… and some of them didn’t need the alcohol for the excuse.

Suddenly, Mrs. Smith stiffened, tugging at Arthur’s hand to try to pull him behind her. The six-year-old dug in his heels, refusing to move, glaring up at the man who was now standing beside me. Such a brave boy, despite everything he’d been through. I shifted, too, as if I could shield them from such a man as Giacomo.

“Hello,” he said smoothly, placing his hand lightly on my back. Despite the lightness of his touch, it felt like a claim, like a possession. “Mrs. Smith, I believe?”

The façade of civility fell over her expression like a blanket.

“Yes, I’m sorry, I don’t believe we’ve met.”

“Giacomo DiNardo. Hailey’s husband.”

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