Page 38 of Assistant to the Mafia

“More important than your own daughter?” Eleonora asked, brows dipping in a disapproving frown.

“No, Mom.” He turned, trying to get her at least walking and talking at once. “Can we have this conversation in the car, please? And have your men follow us, I want you taking an escort home.”

She was still frowning, but she obliged him by pulling out her phone and making a quick call to her usual chauffeur. “They’ll follow us out,” she said when she was done. “Now tell your mother what could even be occupying your mind when something might be endangering my granddaughter.”

Romeo waved away the butler and reached for the door himself. “You know Grace?” It was a rhetorical question. All of the immediate family had met Dante’s assistant, by carefully crafted design, in the time since she’d taken up the post. More so, of course, since Grace and Iris had become genuine friends.

“Dante’s assistant?” his mother echoed. “Of course. A very nice girl, smart as a whip, though I don’t know how she hasn’t at least come to suspect something a little off about you two.” Eleonora buttoned up the coat she’d hastily grabbed from a closet as they’d walked, allowing Romeo to lead her toward Mo and the Navigator.

Mo pulled open the door for her and Romeo helped her in.

Romeo nodded to Mo before jogging around to his side and sliding in. Only once all the doors were shut again and his mother had buckled herself in did he continue the conversation he’d have preferred to have under better circumstances. “There was an incident—which was not my fault, Dante and I have already hashed everything out—and Dante told her the truth this morning.”

Eleonora turned widened eyes to him. “Was that wise?” She waved a hand. “I’m sure he had reasons. I just mean, that girl isn’t from this world. Was it necessary?”

Romeo ground his teeth. “The Ink Blots went after her, Mom. Because of us.” He paused and finally met her stare. “Also—” He did his best to soften his tone a little, though the words and his mood didn’t match. “I’m going to marry her.”

Eleonora stared at him, mouth slightly agape, for at least fifteen seconds. Finally, she asked, “We are talking about the same Grace, aren’t we? Modest, level-headed, law-abiding business woman?”

A smile threatened, just for a heartbeat, and Romeo looked away. “Dante’s ordered me to keep my distance up to now,” he said, quieter. “But with his reason out the window, he backed off. She’s the one I want, Mom.”

Eleonora hummed. “You tried to marry Amber once.”

Romeo winced. “You raised me to have some morals,” he argued. “I got her pregnant. I wanted to give my child a good foundation. When we had a few months of not having a terrible relationship, I figured we could grow together into something real.” He paused, trying to figure out the mess that had been his head eight years prior. It hadn’t been the best time of his life. “It wasn’t like you were in love with Dad when you got married.”

Her hand shot out, smacking his arm. It might have stung if not for the thick winter coat. “Never compare what I had with your father to what you had—even at its best—with that woman-child.”

Romeo sighed. “I was just trying to help you understand why I thought marrying Amber wasn’t the worst idea.”

“And now you think marrying Grace is better.”

He narrowed his eyes at her. “I love Grace. I never loved Amber. That’s a big damn difference.”

Eleonora’s eyes widened again. She held his stare for a beat, released a slow breath, and asked, “Have you talked about what you want? How you’ll work? Marrying a man with a child isn’t the same as simply starting a life together. And already you’re dumping your responsibilities with Lucia onto me to go, what, celebrate this engagement? Have you even talked to Lucia about this?”

Romeo cut his gaze out the window. They had one intersection and about two blocks to the school. Not enough time. “We’ve talked. Grace loves Lucy, and we both want more. That’s not the issue. No, I haven’t told Lucy. I will—and I need you to let me—but more importantly, you misunderstand.” He looked toward his mother again as they crossed the intersection and rounded the last curve between them and campus. “The other problem right now is that Grace has been kidnapped. I don’t know where the hell she is, but I do know she was hurt when she was taken.”

Eleonora lifted a hand to her lips. “Oh my…”

“I have to help find her, and bring her home safe,” Romeo said. “There’s no point telling Lucy about all that if—” His throat constricted and he dropped her gaze. He couldn’t finish the thought. Earlier that very morning, his daughter had let slip that she wanted someone in her life to call mommy. He hadn’t realized yet, not entirely, how close he was to having that for her. For them.

The idea that he might already have lost the woman he’d been waiting so long for hurt more than he was prepared to deal with.

“Sir,” Mo said, interrupting his surging emotions. “Did you get that code?”

Shit. Romeo dug out his phone and swiped open his email. Sure enough, the headmistress and sent over a private, one-time-use entrance code to allow them to drive onto campus through the rear gate. He held his phone out. “Here. It’s the back gate. You won’t get to accidentally run her over. Sorry.”

Mo glanced down at the screen, then set the phone into the cupholder at his side. He grunted. “Shame.”

Eleonora turned to look out the window as he adjusted course to drive around campus. “I always did like you, Mauro.”

“Means a lot, Mrs. De Salvo.”

Romeo lifted his gaze, looking over his mother’s head, and easily spotted the hysterical blonde who appeared to be trying to wedge herself through the bars at the front gate. As he watched, she paused and turned, eyeing the passing SUVs with blatant suspicion. She certainly knew enough about his life and his connections to have reason for that suspicion. She knew too much, if she knew where Lucia attended school. But he would worry about that later.

Mo drove up the faintly slanted back drive, punched in the code, and parked as close to the entrance as he could. Eleonora’s people parked at the farthest back spot, positioned to cut off any unwanted latecomers.

“Keep the car warm,” Romeo said to Mo before popping his door open. He helped his mother out of the SUV, noted a text from Enrico confirming that he was parked and waiting in the non-gated pick-up lot, and led the way into the building.

---