Page 11 of Mafia Don's Secret Baby

Here I was, doing the exact thing he’d never wanted me to do.

I was going deeper into a life of crime than I ever had before.

We went through the double doors at the back, and another metal door greeted us. Matteo made no effort to hide the combination as he typed in six numbers and pressed his thumb into a keypad. The door swung open, and he gestured for me to enter first.

I hadn’t expected this. Not in the back of the casino building.

The walls were lined with various firearms. One wall had twenty-three different varieties of pistols, and as I approached, I found more lying in crates beneath it. I made my way around the perimeter of the room, finding semi-automatics with extended barrels. Some of the weapons were equipped with extended mags, while others retained their traditional design.

The back wall was the largest, holding an assortment of sniper rifles and automatics. Different styles of knives were also on display. I looked around in awe at the large inventory he had stored here.

This was enough to equip an army. More than an army. Between the displays and the crates of additional weapons beneath them, this room could win a war for a large group of people.

“It’s fireproofed and soundproofed. The whole room. It’s only accessible through that door, and I am one of the two people who can get inside. Anthony is the only other person able to access it.” Matteo walked around the room, assessing it with a scrutinizing gaze. “Are you familiar with any of these weapons?”

“All of them,” I admitted.

“Silas mentioned that you were trained, but I wasn’t sure how well.”

My eyes swept across everything again, and I noticed my personal favorite, the Beretta 92FS. I reached for it and pulled it from the wall gently. No scuffs or dings. Overall, the weapon looked brand new. Unused.

“I was trained with all different calibers and types of guns, but I prefer something smaller with less of a kickback. The Beretta was always my favorite.”

“There are lighter options,” he said, pulling down a Smith and Wesson.

I weighed it in my hand and shook my head.

“I like feeling the weight,” I admitted. “This is the perfect balance for me.”

I went to put the Beretta back on the wall, but Matteo’s large hand wrapped around my forearm, and he shook his head. “I want you to keep it. Stock up on ammo, keep it loaded, and keep yourself safe.”

I gaped, looking down at it. Arming myself was a wise idea, and refusing such a kind gesture would be ignorant.

“What do you want for it?” I asked.

He grinned wickedly. “Baby, that’s how I know you’re a mafia princess.”

The word “baby” had my stomach tying itself in knots. I took a breath, but the hand that rested on my arm burned into me, bringing forward the wicked feeling of lust that had gotten us into this situation in the first place. Silas hadn’t wanted this. He hadn’t wanted us together, and I had gone behind his back three years ago for one night with Matteo.

I couldn’t disappoint him from the grave, too.

I pulled my arm out of his grip. “Because I know everything has a cost?” I asked.

“Because you don’t trust me, even though I’ve given you no reason not to.”

I licked my lips and glanced down at the gun I still held. “Gifts always come with strings in this business, and I’m not indebting myself to you for a gun.”

“Consider it a string-free gift.”

He sounded amused, and that made a tendril of frustration rise in me. “Matteo, three years ago… it was a mistake. You know that, don’t you?”

His eyes glazed over with a bit of that coldness I’d learned to expect from him. His shoulders stiffened, and he took a deep breath.

“You think it was a mistake on your part, or do you think I regret it?”

Now was not the time to have this conversation. I planned to leave and go back to Italy once we settled this situation with the Russians, and I couldn’t have anything tethering me back to the mafia life that I’d worked so hard to escape. I needed vengeance, but not at the cost of my freedom. Not at the cost of Callum’s.

I rested the gun on the top of a crate and leaned back into it. “Silas didn’t want us together. He made that abundantly clear, and I went behind his back. I’d be spitting on his grave to consider being with you again.”

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