Page 80 of Mafia King's Surprise Baby

I’m reaching for the jar at the same time she does, and my hand closes on hers.

“What are you doing?” she asks.

“Putting it on my pancakes. Why?” I ask with a frown.

She blinks at me, her wide eyes showing her surprise.What’s going on, I wonder.

Finally, she relinquishes the jar.

“Go ahead,” she tells me. “Put some on your pancakes.”

I’m still perplexed though I do as told. I’m slathering peanut butter on a stack of two pancakes when I feel a small, warm body pulling forward and pressing against my arm.

Bianca speaks up. “Papatakes his pancakes just like you do, Enzo.”

I freeze, my hand halfway to the jar. I know of no one else who likes this combination. Across the world from me, a little boy started doing this just like me. No wonder, because he’s my son.

I stiffen some more when a little hand tugs at the sleeve of my polo shirt. When I turn to Enzo, he looks at me with big dark eyes, then he’s moving toward me. I unfreeze just enough to brace an arm against his back as he climbs onto me and plops himself onto my lap.

“Mamansays this is weird,” he says.

I’m temporarily speechless as my son starts a conversation with me. Then my wits return.

“She doesn’t know what she’s missing,” I tell him.

He giggles. His little body presses against my torso, and one hand reaches for a piece of pancake which he stuffs into his smiling mouth. In doing so, he brushes my arm, leaving a smearof peanut butter in his wake.

I can’t say I mind. I’m laughing softly, and when I bring my arm up to lick the peanut butter, Enzo giggles some more, licking his butter-smeared hand.

Laughing with my son, I can’t believe this is happening. He’s in my arms, and the way he’s leaning into me, I can feel trust in the weight of his body. My heart squeezes, and I can’t help it—I bend my head and drop a soft kiss on his sweet-smelling hair.

My gaze catches Bianca’s when I look up. Tears are glistening in her eyes, and in this moment, only the three of us exists. As it should be, for the rest of our lives.

A family is something that grounds you. I’ve heard the Dons at the table of the syndicate rambling about this on and on since I took my seat. Bullshit, I used to say. Except now, I know exactly what they mean. For this child, I’ll do anything. For my family, I will be a better man, everything I can be, the best version of me. They were right. I have a family now, and it’s with the people who matter. Enzo, of course, but Bianca. She’s the cornerstone. I would’ve done anything for my children, but my progeny with her, the woman I love? That’s the difference. That’s what those old goats didn’t get.

“Do you want to feed him?” she asks. “I can—”

“No. Let me.”

Now that I have him with me, I’m never letting him go. Family is everything. I had it with my father and my brothers, though it was never the same as when my mother was in the picture. She was happy at one point. I remember mornings at the big pine table in our family home, the twins being utter nuisances in theirhigh chairs, my mother looking on at us boys with a soft smile, her eyes lighting up when my father joined us. The first thing he would do was go to her and kiss her soundly on the lips. I used to tell them it was gross, though I secretly relished the joy of knowing they were here, they were solid, they were my safe place.

It didn’t last…but my family? I will make it last.

Bianca shows me how to cut bite-size pieces of the pancakes then using a blunt-pronged fork to feed Enzo one bite at a time. It’s taking an eternity, my coffee she placed before me having gone cold long before we’re even done with one pancake, but I wouldn’t change anything in this moment.

Hana joins us at some point, dressed not in loungewear but in a casual jumpsuit. It’s then I notice Mattia has also changed as Hana goes around the room greeting everyone with hugs and kisses. I get a one-armed hug, the look on her face soft and reverent as she watches me and Enzo together.

“I made pancakes,” Bianca says.

“No, darling. We’re off to get brunch,” Hana tells her. She then whispers something in Bianca’s ear.

It seems to me they’re giving us the house this morning, to help us bond as a family for the first time.

“Thanks,” I mutter to Mattia.

My best friend nods, then drops his head close to my ear.

“I know you won’t ever hurt your son,” he says. “But hurt my sister again, and I will kill you myself, Don or no Don.”

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