Page 15 of Secret Baby for the Italian Mafia Don

Really, I don’t know if she’d try to save me or if she’d urge them to put a bullet in my head. My tongue runs under my teeth as I think about it. I kind of want to find out.

“We got word that you’d been seen at the fighting ring,” Salvatore says, drawing my attention back to him. “I thought it was a mistake, at first. Some trick. Why didn’t you inform the family that you were being released?”

“You know I love to make an entrance.” I smile.

Salvatore folds his hands, holding his silence as he waits for more information. My laugh bubbles softly in the silence.

“Alright, let’s just get the bullshit out of the way and address what everybody is thinking. You’re wondering if I’m here to put an end to this little power trip you’ve been enjoying for the past few years. Answer’s no. You’ve been in charge. You’ve handled business out here, and I took care of what was asked of me while I was inside. I’m not here to fuck up a good thing. I respect this family too much for that.”

“…But,” Salvatore fills in for me.

My gaze slides to Marcel. He knows it’s coming before the words are even out of my mouth.

“But I want the position I’m owed, and there’s someone sitting in my chair who doesn’t belong there.”

An uncomfortable silence bristles in the room. I can see Salvatore putting all his words in a row, working up his rejection.

“Marcel has been instrumental to the family. His position is a reward for years of invaluable service. It’s not something easily traded away—”

“Oh, I’m not trading,” I interrupt. “No, no, I’mtaking.”

Marcel glowers at my calm, unfettered smile. It takes a special kind of hatred to unravel a man like Marcel. A man who always plays by the book but uses it to his advantage. Who knows all the rules of the game just so he can use them against you. But even he sits there, struggling to remain neutral.

“I’m more interested in what happenedtonight,” Marcel says. “Before we start discussing what you think you’re owed, we need to understand the situation. Rumor has it, you were scheduled for a fight tonight—”

“The family is talking, Marcel,” I interrupt him smoothly. “If you want to make yourself useful, why don’t you get me a drink?”

A half-beat of uncertainty shifts through the room.

Marcel turns his eyes to Salvatore in disbelief. Suddenly, no one seems sure of the pecking order. Who listens to who. The ranks are in shambles, and it’s that frayed string that I’m gonna take in my grasp, pulling and pulling, until the whole goddamn sweater unravels itself.

I might not be able to be top dog anymore, but second best is damn close.

And if something ever happened to Sal, well…the family would have a blood relative to weather them through that terrible, terrible tragedy.

At the bar cart, glasses clink. The three of us glance over to see Ava filling up a glass of scotch. She brings it to me and slams it on the desk, spilling a little over the edge. She gives me a pointed glower as she steps past, a silent warning.Back off him.

“Well, at least someone’s catching on quick,” I mutter, taking a sip. “So,” I continue, sitting back, “the way I see it, this can go one of two ways. Either I can challengeyou.” I gesture to Sal. “And we can really make this messy. Or I take the position of underboss, and Marcel fucks back off to legal counsel or accounting or whatever paper pushing he does best.”

“Don’t be delusional. The family won’t support a claim against Salvatore,” Marcel scoffs.

“Oh, I still have a few friends out there, Marcel. Would I be sitting here if I didn’t? Slipped right past you, didn’t it?”

“The family tried, Nico—” Salvatore begins. It launches me to my feet, my hand slamming down on the desk between us.

“Don’t lie to me!” I snarl over the bullshit he’s trying to spew. Marcel is on his feet in an instant, but Salvatore remains still and stoic, his calm demeanor like steel wool against a wound. “You didn’t do agoddamn thing! You left me there, and while I was gone, you traded all the power out of the hands of therealfamily. Your own blood. Or maybe you were afraid they’d still be loyal tome—”

“Amazing how much perspective you get behind bars,” Salvatore cuts in. “As if you have any idea what decisions I’ve made or why. I’vealwaysdone what was best for this family.”

I pace in front of the desk, no longer able to sit still. Rage makes me restless, fills every limb. I know Salvatore had a hand in locking me up. Hemusthave. And now he doesn’t even have the dignity toadmitit.

“What’s it going to be, Sal?” I ask him. “I’m back, and I’m here to stay. You want to know why I was at that fighting ring? Because as of tonight, there’s a lot of money on my name down there in that fighting pit. I madesureof that before I waltzed back in here. You can’t just bury me in the backyard like a dog. Not without pissing off a lot of your fat-wallet friends who are looking to make money on my fights.”

He stares me down, the silence creaking in the old house around us.

“Oh, and while I was there,” I continue, rounding on Marcel now, “I went out of my way, took time out of my busy schedule, to save your little sister from being torn apart by a bunch of drunk thugs. And honestly, I’m not feeling very appreciated. Don’t you have something to say to me, Marcel?”

He stares me down, his silence heavy. His eyes shift to Ava, questioning.

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