Page 44 of Claiming His Mafia Princess

I can’t make my heart stop beating wildly every time I think of him.

Is this what love feels like?

He makes me feel seen. Like maybe I am the only person in the entire world he wants to see. He makes me feel heard and appreciated. He makes me feel beautiful, happy, safe.

It must be love.

I grin and close my eyes again. Outside the window I can see soft snow flakes drifting in a breeze. It’s so warm and cozy inside here - I’ll just snuggle for a little while longer before I get up.

I feel him moving, rolling, and pulling me with him.

He lets out a yawn and then buries his face in my hair.

“Morning, little cutie.” He says, running his hands up and down my back as he stretches out his legs, trying to wake his muscles up.

“Morning.” I smile, pressing against him.

Glancing over at the alarm clock on the side of his bed, my eyes shoot wide open.

I dozed off again and slept for another hour and a half.

“Is it coffee time?” he asks, looking down at me.

“Definitely.” I agree.

We both climb out of bed and Nevio hands me a thick black dressing gown, fluffy like a blanket. He rolls the sleeves up for me because they are too long and then ties the cord around my waist, so I don’t trip over everything.

“Cozy?”

“Very.”

Down in the kitchen, sitting on the edge of the counter staring down at my woolies socks with panda bear faces on them, while Nevio makes the coffee, I am thinking about my father.

“You’re very quiet.” Nevio steps close to me and runs his hands over the outside of my thighs.

“Just thinking.”

“About?”

“My dad.”

He nods, listening, giving me a chance to say something if I want to without pushing me for information.

I sigh, then thread my fingers through his. “I might want to meet with him and ask him some questions. I think last night everything took me by surprise — finding out what he did — it shocked me, and I didn’t actually say the things I wanted to say or ask him anything.”

“What would you ask him if you could?”

“I want to understand what he was thinking. Maybe, I don’t know, but maybe it will help me - it just hurts so much that he made that choice. Like he didn’t care at all. It’s not how I viewed him, you know. He’s my dad. He’s always been my dad. But now I can’t see him the same way again and it’s really bothering me.”

“Your entire perspective has shifted?”

“Yes. Everything I thought I knew about him - it just doesn’t match up in my head anymore.”

“Do you really think that talking to him will help?”

“I hope it will. Because how else am I going to understand it?”

“In my life, I’ve come to realize that some things are not meant to be understood. Especially when dealing with other people’s selfish choices. It’s sometimes just better to let it go - but it doesn’t mean you shouldn’t at least try to understand first. But - if it doesn’t turn out the way you want - just know that everything will still be ok.”

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