Page 17 of Mafia Wars

Out of the trunk, I grab the bouquet of bright carnations—Nan’s favorite—and a box of Maltesers. The same chocolates I’ve brought her every Thursday for years. Routine. Predictable. But it matters to her, and that’s what counts.

Luna steps out of the car, still watching me. She doesn’t say anything, but I can feel the weight of her gaze as I close the trunk and head toward the entrance. Maybe she’s waiting for me to explain more, to add something deeper to my simple Thursday tradition. But some things don’t need words.

“Coming?” I ask, tilting my head toward the entrance.

She nods, her lips twitching into a faint smile. “Yeah. Let’s meet your nan.”

I guide Luna through the double oak doors of the nursing home, the scent of lavender and freshly baked cookies greeting us like an embrace. This place isn’t just a nursing home; it’s a sanctuary. The floors gleam, reflecting the soft, golden light streaming in through floor-to-ceiling windows. Staff in crisp, white uniforms move gracefully, smiling and greeting residents like family. The air hums with serenity. It’s exactly how it should be.

“Morning, Cian,” Jessie, one of the nurses in her late 50’s greets me with a warm smile and open arms. I accept the embrace before planting a kiss on her forehead.

“She’s all revved up to see you.” She states when I release her.

Jessie glances at Luna, her brows rising. “You brought a friend.”

“My girlfriend,” I answer, and Luna stiffens beside me. I haven’t explained to her that my father believes she’s my girlfriend. I use the opportunity to reach across and take Luna’s hand in mine.

Jessie’s smile radiates. “Aren’t you a lucky man?”

“That I am.” I smile back.

“Enjoy your visit,” Jessie says to Luna who manages to just nod.

“I’ll explain on the way back, but in front of my nan you are my girlfriend,” I tell Luna as we make our way through the airy lobby. She hasn’t withdrawn her hand from mine, and I take that as a good sign.

Once again, she just nods but looks around her with wide eyes taking in everything—the plush armchairs, the carefully tended plants, the cheerful murmur of voices from a nearby common area.

“It’s beautiful,” she finally says, her voice soft. She looks at me, her brows furrowed just slightly, as if trying to reconcile the man she knows with the one who brought her here or the one who is telling people she's his girlfriend.“I didn’t expect this.”

“What? Thought I’d dump her in some run-down place?” I smirk, but there’s no edge to it. I stop at a doorway and knock lightly before pushing it open. “I’d never do that to her.”

Inside, my nan sits at a small table, a deck of cards already laid out in front of her. Her silver hair is neatly pinned back, and her eyes light up when she sees me.

“Cian!” she exclaims, her voice warm and strong despite her age. “You finally came to visit your old gran.”

“Old? Never,” I tease, releasing Luna’s hand and crossing the room to kiss her cheek. She laughs, swatting at me lightly before her gaze shifts to Luna.

“And who is this lovely young lady?”

“Gran, this is Luna, my girlfriend,” I say, stepping aside so they can see each other properly. “Luna, this is the woman who taught me everything I know about winning at cards. Be warned.”

Luna smiles, a little shy but charmed. “It’s nice to meet you, Ma’am.”

“Oh, none of that Ma’am nonsense,” Nan says, waving her hand. “Call me Eileen. Now, come sit. Let's see who has finally captured Cian’s heart.”

Luna hesitates as we step into the room, her unsure gaze flicking to me. I nod slightly, a silent reassurance, like telling her,Just play along. It’s fine.Reluctantly, she sits down across from my nan, who’s already beaming as if Luna is the best surprise she’s had in weeks.

The moment Luna settles, Nan reaches out and takes her hands, her frail fingers clasping Luna’s firmly but gently. Her smile widens, her eyes lighting up in that way only Nan can manage.

“She’s pretty,” Nan says, her tone full of approval as her gaze shifts to me. “Very pretty.”

I shrug off my suit jacket and drape it over the back of a chair, letting a faint smile touch my lips. “I know,” I answer, my voice calm but certain. It’s not just a polite agreement—it’s the truth. Luna isn’t just pretty; she’s stunning, the kind of woman who could silence a room without even trying.

Nan doesn’t miss a beat. Her frail hands tighten on Luna’s. “She’s got soft hands,” she says, marveling at them like they’re something precious. I sit down with them, letting the warmth of the moment settle over the room.

“She’s a nurse,” I add smoothly.

Nan’s jaw drops slightly, her eyes wide with admiration. “A nurse?” she repeats, her voice reverent, as if Luna’s professionhas elevated her to sainthood. “You have kind eyes, Luna. Being a nurse suits you.”

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