Page 54 of Mistletoe in the Mafia

“You’ll have the full weight of the organization behind you,” Nicholas says with a short nod.

“Alright, then,” I state, getting to my feet. “I’m leaving now. Good talk.”

My eyes narrow when Adrian shoots Nicholas a smirk. “Wanna bet he has her in his house right now?” he asks the Don in Italian.

“When you told me he was seeing someone, I never imagined it would be Sebestian’s daughter,” Nicholas replies.

I grit my teeth. “You fuckers do know I can understand you, right?” I ask them in English.

I don’t speak much Italian. I’ve never really cared to. But, having lived around Italians since I was a little boy, I can follow conversations pretty well.

Adrian looks up at me with an innocent smile. “Oh, don’t mind us, Dom. I’m just going to enjoy the front-row seat I get to the show that’s about to unfold.”

“He’s right,” Nicholas adds. “You’re either a cold-hearted bastard or a masochist, Dominic. Most people would actively avoid the situation you’ve found yourself in.”

“I’m not most people,” I mutter before glaring at Adrian. “Call off whoever you’ve got surveilling my house.”

“You surveil all of our houses,” he retorts.

“For your protection,” I grit out. “You’re just a bastard that likes to stick his nose where it doesn’t belong.”

He leans back with a smile, “Relax, Dominic. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you not act like a robot. This is beyond entertaining.”

I roll my eyes before looking at the Don, who also has on an amused smile.

“Control him. I’m leaving.”

Neither of them says anything else to stop me as I walk away.

When I arrive back at home, it’s to the clanging of pots in the kitchen. I stalk over there to the hottest sight I’ve laid my eyes on in a while. Madelyn’s awake and her clothes must have been uncomfortable because she’s currently in one of my shirts. I lean against the doorway, watching her for an unhealthy amount of time as she gathers some ingredients from my cupboards before settling them on the island. There’s a pot of water boiling on the stove.

“What are you up to?”

She jumps, clutching her chest as she looks at me with wide green eyes. “Dominic! You scared me. Why the hell are you acting like a creep?”

I smile, stepping inside the kitchen. “How was your nap?”

“Fine,” she murmurs, glaring at me. “I got your note. Very funny.”

I chuckle. “I thought you’d like it. So, what are you trying to prepare?”

“The only thing I’m really good at. Hot chocolate,” she replies with a soft smile. “My mom used to make it for me at Christmas. I’ve been so busy I haven’t even tried, but I woke up craving it earlier. You want some?”

I’m a little stunned she willingly shared something about her past, so I simply nod. I don’t say anything else as I watch her get to work on preparing cups for the both of us. Once she’s poured the hot liquid into the cups, she looks at me.

“Is there any chance you have some whipped cream?” she asks hopefully.

“Yeah, sure,” I reply, heading over to the fridge. I open it and hand her the container, which she gratefully accepts.

“Don’t put it in mine,” I tell her.

She shakes her head in disappointment before spraying a huge amount of the cream into her cup. She takes a sip of her drink once she’s done and lets out a contented moan. The sound goes straight to my cock.

It’s been way too long since I’ve fucked her. When she turns to look at me, she’s got a white mustache that has me chuckling.

“What?” she asks in confusion.

I step closer and lift my hand to wipe the top of her mouth. But of course I don’t just stop there. My fingers rest on her top lip, tracing the bow of her mouth in a soft caress. My entire body heats as I stare down at her.

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