Page 95 of The Devil's Secret

“Who, baby?” Dom strides to her, his thumb rolling down her cheek tenderly as she peers up.

“It’s Michael Marino. The man my father was going to force me to marry.”

“Fuck,” Dom swears. “You think he’s involved in the club?”

“I have no idea.”

“Isn’t he in the Messina family?” I ask, anxiety filling my lungs, finding it hard to breathe.

“Yeah.” Chiara’s mouth thins. “He is. His father is the don, and I heard not for long. Rumor has it, he’s at war with his older brother, wanting to take over for his father instead.”

What has Elsie gotten herself into?

“His door will be the first one we knock on when we go looking.” Dom moves a step back as he glances to his brothers. “If that bastard did something to her, I’ll personally end his fucking life.”

“I guess we may have another war on our hands.” Enzo rubs his palms together, his lips rolling with a sneering smile.

The stairs creek behind us, and suddenly Robby’s there, rubbing his eyes as he pads to me. “Mommy?” he groggily asks. “I had a bad dream.”

“Oh, baby.” I get up, lowering before him, wrapping tender arms around my sweet boy. “Want to sit on Mommy’s lap?”

That gets him grinning wide, the sleepiness still fastened to his face.

My laughter at his genuine happiness is a welcomed sound. It’s still pretty early in the morning and I much prefer he get as much rest as possible, but I’d never refuse snuggles with him for anything.

Slipping my hand around his small one, I lead us to the sofa, scooping him up on top of me, his delicate face tucked against my chest, the grogginess disappearing as he gazes at everyone.

“How about I get you a big-ass chocolate chip cookie?” Enzo asks. “Maybe two.”

“Language.” I widen a glare with a teasing jerk of my lips.

“Baby, with you two living here, that kid is gonna hear a lot worse shit coming from me than that. I kinda have a potty mouth.” He winks with a wicked smirk, and hell, it goes straight to my core.

“I quite like it,” I sass.

His gaze smolders, jaw flexing, those eyes finding my mouth and staying there longer than appropriate.

“You two need a minute? Because Uncle Dante can babysit.”

“Shit, maybeyouonly need a minute.” Enzo shoves his brother playfully across the chest. “But my girl knows, with us, it’s more like hours.” His lower lip disappears between his teeth as he practically undresses me with warmth caressing over my most sensitive places.

“Dude, that’s my sister.” Elliot shakes his head, laughing.

“Sorry?” Enzo flips his hands in the air, feigning an apology.

“Do you have any brownies?” Robby asks. “That’s what the nice lady who I stayed with would make me when the mean man wasn’t there.”

I suck in a breath. Afraid to move. Afraid he’ll stop talking. My heart lurches.

Keep talking, baby boy.

I’ve been terrified to ask anything, not wanting to somehow impede his recovery or harm him by remembering, but I have to know who kept him all these years.

“Wow, that was so nice of her,” Enzo says, lowering to the spot next to us, glancing at me, his expression intense. He knows how important this conversation is, and I let him take the lead.

“Yeah, she was really nice. Ms. Greco always made yummy stuff.”

“Like what?” Enzo’s features soften.

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