Page 29 of Convenient Mafia Vows

Protecting Victoria and Abigail must be our priority because Olivia Dragonetti is used to getting what she wants, and she wants to marry me. Not for love or an alliance between families that would be beneficial for all, but for no other reason than no one walks away from her and lives to tell the tale.

They all watch me closely, eyes narrowed like I just bit the head off a bat, Ozzy Osbourne style.

“Okay,” Cash says, “I hate to point out the obvious, but you live in a fucking penthouse apartment that hasn’t seen a fingerprint since the day you moved in. Where are you planning on hiding this kid? Assuming that keeping it authentic means you’ll be fucking her auntie’s brains out every night.”

I don’t like Cash’s tone. I know I came close to fucking Victoria’s brains out in front of Abigail earlier, but the way he says it lowers it to screwing-an-escort-in-an-elevator level. And Victoria isn’t that kind of woman. That isn’t what this is.

I mean, I don’t know how I know this, but my cock is telling me that screwing her from behind while she is bent over my desk isn’t going to be a one-off. If she tastes the way I think she will, I’m going to want to fuck her on every available surface in every available room inside the Wraith, and then some. Because without me even realizing, Victoria is sneaking under my skin the way Sandy did five years ago.

“It’s the least I can do for her,” I say.Focus, Caleb. “Getting tossed into the ocean in a pair of cement boots isn’t part of the deal. She’s got a kid to think about. And Abigail is special.”

Cash is still being vocal. “Okay, so who are you, and what have you done with my brother Caleb?”

“Define special,” Bash joins in like they’re some kind of comedy act. Bing Crosby and Danny Kaye, anyone? Any moment now, they’ll get up and perform a tap dance across the table.

“She’s gifted. Abigail hacked into my tablet and sat there playing Solitaire. She’s been kicked out of kindergarten for dismantling a fucking projector. The kid is five years old.”

For once my twin brothers are silent.

“Solitaire?” Kyle arches an eyebrow.

“She knew how to clean up the game in one move.”

Okay, so maybe it’s an exaggeration, but it’s how I recall the conversation going. I don’t know much about kids. Scratch that—I know zero about kids—so maybe all five-year-olds can play Solitaire. But I don’t believe that’s the case.

Going by the smirks on the twins’ faces, I’m starting to think that maybe I was wrong, and Abigail isn’t a genius.

Kyle’s tone is serious. “You mustn’t lose sight of the fact that this is a temporary situation, Caleb. We get the Dragonettis off our back, form an alliance, and Victoria and Abigail both walk off into the sunset.”

“I know.” I drain the liquid in my glass. I can’t think about that right now.

“Her future isn’t with the Murray family,” Kyle reiterates like he isn’t sure that I heard him the first time around.

Before I can think up a suitable response to prove that I understand the situation, Terry puts his phone down on the table quietly, and says, “No sign of Callahan. Not even a lingering whiff of his cheap aftershave, which could be a problem for us.”

If Terry thinks this is a problem, it is a problem.

“You want my advice,” he continues, knowing that his advice is our bible, “Victoria and Abigail should stay with you.” He pauses. “And I’m not going to be the one who breaks it to your mom.”

9

VICTORIA

“Oh my God,I’m so happy for you!”

I throw my arms around Sienna and squeeze her tightly. There are tears in my eyes. No one deserves recognition for their work more than she does. No one deserves happiness more than Sienna does after what she’s been through with the relentless skin grafts and medication and pain.

“I have a good feeling about this one, Vic. This is only the beginning.”

I pull away from her and hold her at arm’s length. I wish I could promise her that this is the year I’ll make all her dreams come true, but I don’t know Caleb Murray well enough to believe that he’ll be true to his word. Not yet anyway.

“It is.” I nod. “Soon everyone in New York will know how amazing your work is. Just think, this time next year you’ll be famous.”

“I don’t want to be famous.” Sienna picks Abigail up and nuzzles her nose. “Do I, Abi? Auntie Sienna just wants to make enough money from her artwork to live, huh?”

“It’s okay,” Abigail says as Sienna sets her back down on the sidewalk and leads us inside her favorite café. “Caleb Murray is going to give Auntie Vicky money to buy you a gallery.”

Sienna stops so suddenly that a woman in an expensive cashmere coat walking along behind us almost headbutts her. She clucks her tongue loudly and sidesteps us shaking her head.

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