Page 84 of Mafia King's Surprise Baby

“It might.” He sighs.

What he doesn’t say and that I however hear—this is material for blackmail, and that’s something he’s not ready to get into. Not yet. Not unless as a last recourse, anyway.

My shoulders deflate. All this could’ve been for nothing.

“I’m sorry,” I say again, my lip trembling. What chaos have I gotten us into?

Leo’s out of his seat in a flash, his arms closing around me as he pulls me to him. I snuggle into his embrace, my cheek pressed to his chest, his heart beating under my ear. Its pace is rapid and thudding, which doesn’t calm me at all.

“It’s not your fault,” he murmurs close to my ear.

“It is—”

He’s pulled away so fast, I’m reeling, words cut mid-sentence.

“I won’t have you berating yourself,” he says, voice strong, clipped, forceful.

I can’t escape the compulsion woven in them even if I tried. And I don’t want to even try—at the end of the day, I am just a woman in this game of men called the Mafia.

“Leo,” I mumble, breath hitching.

“Shh.” One hand is solidly anchored at my waist, the other coming up to press onto my neck, his fingers grazing my jaw. “You did the right thing. You protected our son.”

As I look into his eyes, the conviction in them travels to me and seeps into my blood.

Our son. Enzo.

“He’s all that matters,” I say softly, Leo’s certainty infusing me, too.

His fingers tighten on my face, and he forces me to face him even more, to give him my eyes, my whole attention.

“We,” he stresses. “We’re all that matters.”

I gulp softly, wanting his certitude to thread into my every cell.

“You leave the rest to me,” he adds.

As he claims my mouth in a ravenous kiss, desire powers through me.

Desire, but also dread. Leo’s on the rampage. I don’t fear for us, but the people who’ll stand in our way? Lord have mercy on them.

Chapter 24

Leo

Those damn fuckers calling themselves the syndicate won’t ever let me go free. I can’t sit idle and just let things happen, as my father told me to, and not get involved. These piranhas, they want blood.Myblood. I don’t need them to know Bianca is alive to train a target on me full-frontal—they don’t need any specific reason to start gunning for me. I’m the next generation, so not one of theirs, not a member of their old world and obstinate clique.

I spoke to my grandmother before setting out to come here. I welcome her advice, and I also wanted her up to date on everything that’s been happening. She’s given me pointers as to how to deal with these men—she’s a woman, and a cunning one at that, in their world, and she’s learned how to navigate their tricky, treacherous waters. I’m keeping her words in good stead today.

Needless to say, she was ecstatic at the news she has a great-grandson. Aghast that we didn’t know about him for all these years, she however came round when she learned of the circumstances surrounding his conception. When I told her I’m marrying his mother, I received her blessing, because it meant I won’t be marrying that slut—her words, not mine—of Paloma Salvatore. I’m aware Bianca will have some groveling to do to win mynonna’s full favor, but at least, she’s in, which is saying something. I’m counting on Enzo to bring my grandma around.

The minute I step into the big room hosting this meeting Roberto Bonucci has called inside a secluded and trusted club on the Upper East Side, I can feel all the eyes zeroing in on me.

“Don Pellegrini,” Don Salvatore exclaims as I take my seat.

I acknowledge him with a nod. To not do so could mean a declaration of war. We might all be sitting at this table, but this peace between us is tenuous, at best. We stay civil because we need to, not because we want to.

“My Paloma is meeting me for dinner when we’re done,” he adds.

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