Page 27 of Mafia Baby

Dominic

"I can't believe I just did that," she mutters, mortification evident in her voice.

"It happens," I say, though my tone lacks conviction.

She looks up at me, her eyes pleading for forgiveness. "I promise I'll make it up to you."

I shake my head, a small smile playing on my lips despite the situation. "Don't worry about it. Let's just get you home. If you’re sick, you should be resting."

As we climb into the back of the waiting car, she leans against me, her earlier cheer replaced by exhaustion. "Thanks," she murmurs, her words barely audible over the hum of the engine.

I wrap an arm around her shoulders, offering what little comfort I can. "Don't mention it," I reply, my annoyance melting away as I realize just how vulnerable she is in this moment.

I stroke her hair absentmindedly. It’s soft, long, and smells like something sweet. I wonder for a moment if the honey color is natural.

Her mother’s hair is much darker, just like Will’s, but since her father is bald, I really can’t tell if she’d have inherited lighter hair from him.

“When is your birthday?” Gianna asks me, not moving her head. The ride is taking much longer than I anticipated. I thought she’d fallen asleep already.

“March. The twenty-seventh,” I answer her immediately, only after realizing that my birthday isn’t something I usually share with people.

Vince knows it, but we’ve never done big birthdays. Personal details like that are how people get hacked and blackmailed, and it’s one of my rules not to open myself up to those kinds of things.

“Aries…” she mumbles. It takes me a few seconds to realize she’s talking about my Zodiac sign.

“Is that good?” I’ve heard things about the good signs and the evil signs, but I have no idea if my darkness was written in the stars before I was ever even bad.

“Mmm. Not bad,” she says, stroking my forearm with her finger.

“I’m glad.” I’ll take her word for it.

***

I can hear my stomach growling as I get out of the car on my street.

There’s a little pizza place right below my building. The pizzas are massive and greasy, and there’s always a conversation to be had with the old lady who owns it.

I’ve helped her keep the thugs away from her shop ever since I moved in, and she makes sure I get extra toppings for free.

I order a pepperoni special and then use the bathroom. Picking up my pizza, I walk up to my loft, typing a text message as I navigate the stairs.

D: All’s well that ends well. But please be more careful, Gianna.

My phone pings, and I put the slice of pizza down, wiping the oil from my fingers. Picking up the device, I see Gianna’s number pop up.

G: I will. Silly, silly mistake tonight. Never again.

I left her right outside her house, and by the time she walked in the door, she looked a lot better than when I found her at the bar.

I’m not sure what tonight was about. If she was any other woman, I’d put it down to attention-seeking, but somehow, I don’t think that’s what Gianna was doing.

I also have to admit that I’m worried about her evidently being sick and still choosing to go out and spend time in a bar.

And why wasn’t she drinking if she went to a bar? None of it makes sense.

D: Sorry if I disappointed you tonight.

G: You didn’t get that far ;)

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