Page 50 of Secret Baby for the Italian Mafia Don

“If you’re striking deals with Sal about trying to get on jobs, even the safe ones, the ones that look normal and ordinary at a glance, you have to know how to do this. One bad day, somebody else’s fuckup, that’s all it takes. It’s a life people only want when it’s going good, because when it goes bad, it goes bad all the way.”

“I don’t mind the bad,” I say.

“I know,” he says softly, “but I mind for you.”

“Show me, then. What am I supposed to do if you’re coming at me with a knife?”

Nico laughs. “You’re supposed toshoot me.”

I wrinkle my nose at the thought of carrying a gun around all the time, like the nut jobs you hear about on the news.

“All those expensive women’s self-defense courses, they don’t mean shit once you’re cornered by a man twice your weight. You know what all that advice boils down to in the end?” he asks softly, getting closer, keeping my attention like a lure. “Just enough foolish self-confidence to get yourself into a bad situation.” He’s so close now. Thebad situation, front and center.

“Go on,” he says lowly. “Stop me.”

“No,” I answer.

He kisses me again, pinning me back against the fence. He props me up to sit on it, my legs around him as he gives me a little height advantage. I lean down and kiss him, running my fingers through his short hair that’s just starting to grow out. My hands run over his cheeks, angling the kiss hungrily. I finally give in, after hours and hours of pretending I can resist.

“When you went to prison,” I say as we linger in the moment, “was it really over a girl?”

I don’t know why my stomach feels tight and sick at the thought of his answer. For a long minute, Nico doesn’t say anything. Maybe I’ve finally got my fingers in his trauma, digging into the deep wound until it bleeds again.

“Yeah,” he finally admits.

“Do you want to tell me about it?”

“If you want to know something, you ask. I’m not careful with you. Don’t be careful with me.”

Finally, studying the tops of the trees in the distance, I admit, “Maybe I don’t want to know.”

“Jealous?”

I scoff, as if the idea is absurd.

“Just worried that I’m going to get subpoenaed at your next court case, when you murder someone else in a possessive rage.”

Nico presses our foreheads together, his words dark and warm as he utters,

“Don’t worry about that. Wives can’t testify against their husbands.”

I almost fall off the fence, barely catching myself on the wood. Little splinters dig into my palms.

“You’re not my fiancé,” I remind him.

His finger traces mine, following the curve of my empty ring finger.

“I own you more than that fucker ever will,” he whispers.

My wanting for him feels hollow between my legs, a dark, hungry need to be filled in the way onlyhecan fill me.

I push away and hop down, breaking out of the spell like it’s a fever dream. He’s barely touched me and I’m breathless, my hands clammy. I toss Nico a beer, ordering him to chug it. I pickup the pistol again, avoiding his watchful gaze as I reload the gun.

I have the sudden urge to shoot something.

14

Ava

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