Page 64 of Captive Mafia Wife

His hand is on the handle of the car door, ready to close it, when we hear the gunshot. The noise is distant yet undeniable. Gasps and shouts from the street follow the terrifying sound.

The baby, blissfully unaware, quickly adapts to her surroundings. She tugs on the end of my scarf, intrigued by its soft cashmere fringe.

The door is closed, and the Escalade pulls from the curb.

My heart lunges into my throat. Her father is dead. “That…was him.”

“More than likely.” Fredrick wraps his arm around my shoulders, pulling me tight against his side. He offers me the strength I do not have as I hold this precious life in myarms, knowing her entire world has been destroyed at this moment.

I force myself not to react, smiling down at the baby as tears sting my eyes. To my side, I catch Fredrick making the quiet motions of the sign of the cross, kissing his fingertips as he finishes, then glancing up at heaven.

He’s praying for her father.

The tears well.

The baby looks up at me, eyeing the strands of shiny pearls I wear around my neck. Gleefully, she gently tugs on the necklace, blissfully unaware of what's happening around us as she purses her rosebud lips, soundlessly blowing bubbles.

She has no idea…

I quickly wipe a tear from my cheek. “Aren’t you a clever girl?”

She’s so quiet, not even jumping at the sound of the gun. Something flips in my gut; I feel off-center, prickly heat dancing over the back of my neck. “She can’t hear.”

“What do you mean?” Fredrick asks.

Traffic starts back up, and we pull forward, the car lurching forward as the driver accelerates.

“Gunshots. Mayhem on the street, and look.” I nod at the baby, who playfully blows bubbles, fingertips now at her rosy lips. “She’s serene. She hasn’t made a sound.”

Studying her face, he leans forward, his arm shifting but remaining on my shoulder as he takes his fingers to her ear and snaps. Twice. The baby looks at himand laughs.

Relieved she reacted to the sound of his snapping, I push his hand away. “Don’t do that! She’s not a dog.”

“It’s a simple test. And it worked. I wanted to put your mind at ease.” His arm slides away from my shoulder. “I’m pragmatic.”

We sit there in silence, in shock, and let the weight of the gunshot sink in.

Staring down at the sweet girl, I stroke her silky hair. “We should have gone back.”

“Absolutely not.” His voice is tight. “I’ll never willingly put you in danger.”

My hackles rise. “But what about the wee one? She’s got no father now.”

“If we’d gone back for the father who, for all intents and purposes…” His voice trails off as he stares at the baby. There’s compassion in his voice. “He was already gone. We could have put her in more danger.”

As he said, he’s pragmatic. He snapped his fingers because it was the quickest way to ease my mind. And the silent prayer…I’ve always had a soft spot for a strong man turning to God in a moment of weakness.

I tell my anger to cool itself.

“You’re right, Fredrick, we couldn’t go back. I’m sorry.” I lean my head on his shoulder. “Thank you for your protection.”

“Ma chérie.” He kisses the top of my head. “Don’t apologize. If you didn’t want to try and save him, you wouldn’t be you.”

“It’s the islander in me. Leave no one behind.” Only they left me, didn’t they? I stare down at the baby, my pain tripling for her.

Together, we stare at the precious little girl as she tires. Slowly, her body weight increases, and her breathing slows. Her wee head rests on my chest, using my down coat as a pillow. Her thick lashes flutter. A moment later, she’s fast asleep.

I have no idea how to care for a child. I wasn’t like Fiona or the other girls on the island, babysitting loads of little cousins when their mothers had things to attend to or a knitting circle.

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