Page 7 of Curvy Girl for the Mafia Daddy

But then I hear it. A choked sob, barely audible through the cracked door. Against my better judgment, I inch closer, peering inside.

Luca sits at his mahogany desk, head in his hands, broad shoulders shaking. Anguished gasps rack his muscular frame. In this unguarded moment, the ferocious mafia leader looks utterly...broken.

My chest constricts. I've never seen Luca like this—so raw, so human. The urge to go to him, to offer solace, builds inside me.

But I know better than to cross that threshold, so I don’t.

I inch away and head to my room, but my perception of him is forever changed.

Luca

A single tear rolls down my cheek and splashes onto the framed photo of my brother Marco clutched in my trembling hands. My eyes burn but I blink back more tears, clenching my jaw.

I shouldn't let my guard down, even for a moment. If someone saw me, the notorious Luca Romano, reduced to a blubbering mess.

Pathetic.

Weak.

But the grief caught me off guard. It slammed into me like a punch to the gut, and now here I am doing something I never do.

I’m sitting her crying like a fucking woman. I disgust myself.

I sniff and wipe my eyes, scowling as I get myself under control.

I slam the photo face down on the desk and push to my feet, pacing to the window. Crossing my arms, I stare out at the sprawling estate grounds, not really seeing them.

All I can see is Dante's face. My brother. My responsibility. And I failed him.

Self-loathing sears through me and I welcome the familiar burn of it. It's better than the alternative—that aching chasm of loss that threatens to swallow me whole.

A soft knock at the door startles me and I whirl around, my hand instinctively going to the gun holstered at my side.

I narrow my eyes at the door, barking out a gruff "What?"

The door opens and Marco steps in, his expression carefully neutral. "Sorry to interrupt, Sir. But I thought you should know—Dana took Matteo off the premises. For ice cream, apparently."

Red hot fury explodes through my veins, searing away any traces of weakness. How dare she? I trusted her with my nephew, and this is what she does?

I slam my fist on the desk, relishing the sharp sting of pain. It clears my head, focuses me.

"Where?" I growl, already moving toward the door.

Marco steps back, giving me a wide berth. Smart man. "The gelato shop in town, I believe."

I don't waste time with more questions. I'm already out the door, stalking down the hallway with a singular purpose: to find them and bring them back. Now.

How could she be so reckless, so stupid?

Dana

I sit across from Matteo in a cozy corner booth at the bustling gelato shop, his little legs swinging under the table as he eagerly licks his double scoop of stracciatella. A smile curves my lips, seeing the pure joy radiating from him. The poor boy has been through so much lately. I thought some sugar and sprinkles could bring a little light back into those big brown eyes.

The door chimes and a hush falls over the previously lively shop. My heart drops into my stomach as I look up and see him.

Luca.

And he looks furious.

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