Page 3 of His Mafia Lover

But looking at Shepherd's earnest, determined face, I know I can't lie to him. He'd see right through me in an instant. So I take a deep breath and give him the truth, as uncomfortable as it is.

"I...I don't know," I admit, the words feeling like shattered glass in my throat. "I want to do right by Matteo, more than anything. But my world...it's not a kind one. I have enemies, responsibilities I can't just walk away from."

I rake a hand through my hair, frustrated by my own helplessness in the face of this monumental task. "I'm not sure I know how to be what he needs. But I swear to you, I will do everything in my power to keep him safe and cared for. Even if it means tearing my whole goddamn life apart and rebuilding it from scratch."

Shepherd is silent for a long moment, his eyes searching mine like he's trying to take my measure. I resist the urge to fidget under that penetrating stare, feeling flayed open and exposed in a way I haven't since I was a green kid, new to the family business.

"Okay," he says at last, something like approval warming his tone. "That's a start, Mr. Ricci. Admitting you need help, that you can't do this alone...that's the first step."

He reaches into his pocket and produces a business card, pressing it into my hand. His fingers are warm against my palm, the contact sending an unexpected jolt of awareness through me.

"I want you to call me, anytime, if you need guidance or support. I meant what I said to Matteo - we're going to figure this out together. You're not alone in this."

I stare down at the card in my hand, the crisp white paper seeming to burn against my skin. Aaron Shepherd, LCSW. A lifeline, to a man like me. It feels surreal.

"I...thank you," I manage, my voice gruff with an emotion I can't name. "I'll keep that in mind."

Shepherd nods, a hint of a smile playing at the corners of his mouth. "You do that. I'll be in touch soon to discuss next steps. In the meantime, just focus on being there for Matteo. Let him know he's loved and protected, no matter what."

With that, he turns and walks away, leaving me standing there in the hallway, my head spinning with the enormity of what I've agreed to. I look down at the business card again, tracing the embossed letters with my thumb.

Aaron Shepherd. A man who sees through my armored facade to the uncertainty beneath, who isn't afraid to call me on my bullshit. A man who makes me want to be better, for Matteo's sake if not my own.

I tuck the card into my breast pocket, just over my heart. It feels like a talisman, a reminder of the new path I've chosen. The path that leads to my nephew, to the family I've been entrusted with.

I know it won't be easy. I'll have to change everything, risk everything, to make this work. The thought is daunting, but beneath the fear, there's a flicker of something else. Something like hope.

Matteo needs me. And damn it all, I need him too. Need the chance to be more than just a killer, a gangster, a heartless boss. The chance to make my brother proud.

I straighten my spine, squaring my shoulders beneath the weight of my new responsibilities. It's a weight I'll gladly bear, for Matteo's sake. For the family.

I head back into Matteo's room, ready to begin again. Ready to be the man my nephew deserves, come hell or high water. And if Aaron Shepherd is the one to guide me through the darkness...

Well. So be it.

CHAPTER 2

AARON

The glare of my laptop screen is the only light in my cramped office, the susurrus of the evening cleaning crew the only sound beyond the hum of the HVAC. It's late, far later than I usually stay at work, but the Ricci case is proving more complicated than I anticipated.

I've spent hours combing through the scant information available on the family, trying to piece together a clear picture of the world Matteo would be entering if he remains in his uncle's care. What I've found is far from reassuring.

Santino Ricci, age 37. Suspected ties to organized crime, though nothing's ever been proven in court. A trail of whispered rumors and cold cases that never quite lead back to his door. A man feared and respected in equal measure, with a reputation for ruthless efficiency and a temper that flares hot and bright as a magnesium flare.

And yet, when I think back to our meeting this morning, it's not the icy arrogance of a mob boss that lingers in my mind. It's the flash of raw grief in dark eyes, hastily masked. The way his voice softened, ever so slightly, when he spoke to Matteo. The edge of desperation that crept in when he admitted his doubts about his ability to care for a child.

Santino Ricci is a walking contradiction, and trying to unravel the truth of him is giving me a tension headache. I pinch the bridge of my nose and sigh, wondering for the thousandth time if I'm in over my head with this case.

A knock at the door startles me out of my brooding thoughts. I look up to see my best friend and fellow social worker, Logan, leaning against the doorframe with a knowing grin.

"Burning the midnight oil again, Shep?" he asks, inviting himself into my office and plopping down in the chair across from my desk. "I thought we talked about this whole 'work-life balance' thing."

I scowl half-heartedly at him, no real heat behind it. Logan's known me long enough to see right through my grumpy facade. "This case is...complicated," I hedge, not quite ready to put my swirling thoughts into words. "I'm just trying to get a handle on all the variables."

Logan's grin softens into something more sympathetic. "The Ricci kid, right? I heard about what happened to his folks. Poor little guy."

I nod, scrubbing a hand over my face. "It's a tragedy, no doubt about it. But what I'm worried about now is making sure Matteo ends up in the best possible situation going forward. And his uncle...let's just say he comes with some baggage."

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