Page 45 of Triplets for the Mafia Prince

Her hand rests on my chest, right over my heart. The trust in that simple gesture hits hard. She chose to stay, to believe in me despite the evidence that says she should doubt me.

I know I should keep my distance, but lying here, surrounded by her warmth, I have to accept that it's already too late for that.

Any chance at a happy life for her now rests with my ability to keep her safe. To do that, I need to plan my father’s demise. It’s all so fucking Shakespearean. Or maybe Shakespeare just wrote about real life. Sons have killed fathers throughout history, often for power. Hell knows, I’ve thought about it a lot. But I’m notgoing to kill my father for power. I’m doing it to protect people I care about.

I wonder what Gia would think of Bella, and vice versa. They’re not that far apart in age. They’d probably be friends. Well, that’s if Bella stayed with me. But I’ve offered her freedom, and I have to give her that, if that’s what she wants.

I disentangle from Bella, careful not to wake her. I pad into the kitchen, my body still humming from Bella's touch. I make a cup of coffee, using the moment to focus on the task at hand—keeping us safe and bringing my father down.

I go through the kitchen drawers, finding a notepad and a pen. With my coffee, I drop into a chair at the kitchen table ready to make a plan.

First item: Weapons. The gun I took off our would-be killer won't be enough. I'll need more firepower to face my father's men. Below that, I write "contacts" and list guys who owe me favors and might be willing to cross the old man.

My pen hovers over "safe houses." Can't use any of our family properties. They'll be watched. Maybe that place in Jersey… I jot down the address, then scratch it out. Too obvious.

The list grows. New burner phones, clean car, cash reserves, fake IDs. Each item represents another layer of protection between us and my father's reach. Between Bella and the fate he had planned for her.

There’s a comfort in this that reorients me from the discombobulation I feel around Bella. This is what I know—strategy, contingencies, calculating odds. Not… whatever happened back there in the bedroom.

I turn to a new page and draw a line down the middle of the page. Left side:Immediate Needs. Right side:Long-Term Moves. Under “Immediate,” I write "Gia" and underline it twice. Getting her and the twins somewhere safe has to happen before I move against my father. For this, I’ll need Max. The memory ofhis hesitation to return to New York to look out for her bothers me again. Maybe I should set up additional security through other channels. Someone even my father doesn't know about.

My sister's faced enough trauma already. Those kids deserve better than living under constant threat. But Max made the same vow to protect her that I did. I can’t worry about what his hesitation meant. I have to trust him to protect her while I work on getting rid of my father.

I also add the burner phones and car to the immediate list. Long term, I need a plan to lure my father to his death. That I need to think about more. I can’t just walk into the house or his office and kill him. If he’s trying to kill me, I’d likely never make it. I need to orchestrate a situation.

I think about the deal with Vincenzo Rinella. It seems clear that my father sent me to get Bella to set up the hit on me and blame Rinella. But what about Bella? Was she just the excuse to get me to Chicago? I close my eyes, knowing the truth. If Bella died with me, so be it. If not, she’d become a part of his menagerie of women. I grip the pen tighter, rage building at the idea of his using Bella for his sick sexual needs and then selling her to his friends.

My father would get me out of the way and a new toy to play with. But he’d also get access to Rinella’s shipping business out of Chicago and the shipping route between Lake Michigan and Lake Erie to smuggle their goods. If my father is blaming Rinella, then Rinella has a reason for revenge against my father. Maybe this is my ticket to take him down. Rinella isn’t as respected as he thinks he is, but D’Amatos are, and Bella is related to them through her sister. And the Outfit won’t stand for an outsider to come in making demands.

I blow out a breath because I can’t put my faith in people I don’t know. Will the D’Amatos protect Bella? I have no clue.Will they help Rinella or see a better deal with my father? I don’t know that either.

I look up from my planning notes as Bella enters the kitchen. Her dark hair falls in waves around her shoulders, and she's wrapped herself in one of the cabin's oversized sweaters. My body responds instantly to the memory of her coming apart from my touch, her determination to learn what pleased me.

Heat floods my system, and I shift in my chair, trying to focus on the tactical problems in front of me instead of how much I want to pull her back to bed.

But there's uncertainty in her expression now. She hovers in the doorway like she's unsure of her welcome, and something in my chest tightens. I'm not used to caring what anyone thinks of me—except maybe Gia—but Bella's tentative look makes me want to smooth away whatever doubts are troubling her. God, I hope it’s not our physical encounter.

I set down my pen, giving her my full attention. "You okay?"

“Yes. Why wouldn’t I be?” She sounds defensive.

"I just want to make sure you don't regret what happened."

She crosses her arms, lifting her chin. "I initiated it, remember? Or are you the one with regrets?"

“No regret on my end.” Is that what’s worrying her?

It takes a moment, but then she seems to relax and comes to sit at the table. “What are you doing?”

“Planning what happens next.” I decide she might be able to help me. "Tell me about your father's operation. What do you know about his business?"

Bella's face scrunches up in that adorable way that makes me want to kiss her. "You know women aren't allowed anywhere near business discussions."

"But you must have overheard something. A conversation, a phone call?" I press.

She shakes her head. "No. I know my place." The resignation in her tone bothers me a lot. This sheltered existence, acting like they’re protecting their women when they’re actually controlling them, is what my father and men like him want. I think of Gia, how our father tried to clip her wings too. At least she had me looking out for her. Who did Bella have?

“So you don’t stand up to your father like you do to me.” I try to make my tone light, like I’m amused by her bravado with me.

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