Page 65 of Mafia Don's Secret Baby

Matteo strolled inside, wearing a nice suit and shoes that had been polished to perfection. I gave him a small smile, but his face remained hard as he looked at me.

Two days, and I hadn’t gotten more than an emotionless glare. He’d been decent enough to send a female employee inside the conference room with a new pair of leggings within moments of leaving, but other than that, he’d acted as if I didn’t exist.

“Hi,” I said. “Do you want to join us in making breakfast?”

He looked down at Callum, and for the first time in days, he allowed a part of his hard exterior to fall away. Devastation flashed behind his eyes as he looked at Callum. He stepped forward, taking in our boy. He seemed to be noticing all the similarities for the first time, and each additional second he stood there, the more emotions crossed his face. Shame. Confusion. Anger.

“What are you making?” he asked, placing a briefcase on the counter out of Callum’s reach. He didn’t direct his attention toward me, instead crouching at the counter beside his son.

“Cakes,” Callum pointed to the bowl. “Break egg.”

“You broke an egg?” Callum nodded emphatically, and a sad smile crossed Matteo’s face. “That’s really cool, buddy. Are pancakes your favorite breakfast?”

He nodded, and I didn’t bother correcting him. Callum didn’t have a favorite breakfast. He enjoyed anything that was put in front of him. For lunch, on the other hand, he almost always insisted on hotdogs.

“There’s a lot I need to learn about you,” Matteo said, rustling Callum’s hair.

Our son pushed Matteo’s hand away with a huff. “Mine hair.”

Matteo shook his head with a small chuckle. “You got it from me.”

He certainly had. The long and dark curls came strictly from Matteo, and now that he recognized it, I knew he’d recognize the various other similar features, too.

“Mine,” Callum insisted.

“Where did you go today?” I asked.

Matteo spared me only a brief glance as he stood and gathered his briefcase. “I was collecting a few debts.”

My attention caught on his red and bruised knuckles. It seemed that he hadn’t just been collecting debts. Matteo rarely lost his temper, so I wondered what the people on the receiving end of those blows had done to push him. Was it possible that news of Callum had contributed to it?

“You and your mommy enjoy the pancakes,” he said, turning his back on us.

“Matteo,” I called after him. “I’ll make you some, too. Why don’t you sit down and eat?”

He didn’t stop. He didn’t even look over his shoulder as he moved toward his office.

“Matteo, please!” I shouted after him.

When he didn’t turn, I grabbed one of the cooled pancakes and placed it in front of Callum before rushing after him. I grabbed Matteo’s shoulder a few feet outside of his office.

His back felt stiffer than I’d ever felt it. The muscles beneath my fingertips clenched so tightly that I wondered how he was able to walk fluidly. “Matteo, please talk to me. You can’t ignore me forever.”

He turned slowly, looking down at me. Before the mask returned, disappointment flashed in his eyes.

“I’m not ignoring you,” he countered.

Nothing. He gave me no emotion.

“I—I can make you breakfast, and we can sit down and talk about this. I don’t want to lose you. You mean too much to me, Matteo.”

Matteo was every inch the Don that the world saw, yet the Matteo I’d grown to adore was nowhere in sight. I had no idea what he was thinking or feeling after telling him the truth, though I could easily surmise it was nothing positive.

When he didn’t reply, I tried again. I reached for his hand. “Please, talk to me.”

My heart sank as he jerked his hand back. “There’s nothing to discuss.”

I crossed my arms over my chest protectively. I wasn’t sure what I was protecting. I knew he wouldn’t physically hurt me, but the emotional wound he had dealt when he retreated felt more potent than any blow. “We can’t continue on like this. I need you to understand why I did what I did. I hate that I hurt you, Matteo. It crushes me. You mean everything to me.”

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