Page 15 of Mafia Don's Secret Baby

“I needed your attention today,” he said, and I could hear the nonchalance in his tone. “I could have led a much larger attack than this one. Give me the girl, and we’re done.”

He had to be insane to believe I’d back down after what he’d done to my friends. To me. I chuckled under my breath and stood straighter. “Lilianna Genovese is under my protection,” I told him, using the most formal words in my arsenal. “Is she worth a full war to you?”

“Is she worth it to you?”

“Yes.”

There was no hesitation behind my words. If I let anything happen to Lilianna, Silas would turn over in his grave. However, that wasn’t my main motivation. Even without my late friend’s wishes, I’d make the same choice.

Nobody would touch Lilianna.

She was mine.

She’d always been mine, even when she’d been hiding in Italy and didn’t realize it.

“My son died because she backed out of a marriage with him. She deserves what’s coming to her. She’s the last of them, and if you protect her, you’ll die, too.”

A harsh smirk covered my face. “I hope to see you on the battlefield soon, Vlad.”

I ended the call and took a long breath as I considered my next move.

It wasn’t hard to make a decision.

I’d find Vlad and I’d kill the motherfucker.

Chapter Six

Lilianna Genovese

“What is this…”

I looked around the patio, my eyes catching on a four-seat table and cushioned chairs surrounding it. The elegance of the table took me back to the Sunday dinners I used to have with my brother and father—the candles and the fancy dinnerware with the real silverware.

I glanced down at Callum and realized he'd never seen a dinner like this before. He’d gone to family dinners with distant relatives in Italy, and we’d gone to an occasional restaurant, but nothing like this.

“Dinner,” Matteo said, leaning into the doorframe. I turned back to him and raised my brows.

“I know, but takeout would have sufficed.”

“After what we’ve gone through in the past week, you deserve something better than takeout.”

I moved toward the table and looked it over more closely. Not a single piece of silverware sat out of place. Not a single fray marred the tablecloth nor a single drip of candle wax. A small arugula salad sat in the center of each of our plates, drizzled with what looked to be a dark balsamic dressing.

“Salad,” Callum said, reaching for one of the plates. I pulled his hand away gently.

“I have a second meal prepared for him, too,” Matteo said with a gesture to the table. “I didn’t know what he’d eat.”

“Pretty much anything, fortunately,” I said.

I could hardly find the words as I considered the last time someone had done something so kind for me—for my son. I had family in Italy—a family that despised my father’s line of work and were pleased to keep me hidden from him. My great-aunt and a few distant relatives in Italy watched Callum while I worked, but nobody had ever done anything for me when I’d had a difficult day. Nobody had ever acted like they cared this much.

The only one who had ever done anything like this for me had been—

I sucked in a sharp breath, trying not to bring down my mood this evening. I still couldn’t bring myself to think about my brother without feeling the aching hole in my chest. It was a wound that seemed to grow with each new memory that came to my mind.

“Sit,” Matteo said.

I guided Callum around the table and glanced over where Matteo stood tall, holding out the chair he’d pulled out for me. His dark hair hung in curls on either side of his face. His strong jaw clenched as I looked him over. He no longer had his tuxedo jacket buttoned, and the shirt beneath was tucked perfectly into his pants. He looked entirely self-assured; completely set in his actions, no matter what they’d be.

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