Page 52 of Secret Baby for the Italian Mafia Don

“These, too,” I admit, picking up the pair of stuffed animals from the floor and putting them in the box. “Vinny won them for meat a fair upstate. Well, he didn’t ‘win’ them. He tried to win them, and then he just paid off the guy running the booth.”

Nico grins.

“He was one of us,” he says warmly.

For the first time, speaking his name doesn’t hurt. The memory feels warm, but not as painful. I can almost hold it in my hands without it burning me. I put the stuffed animals back into the box with his other things, and there’s a strange comfort in knowing they’re still within reach.

“What’s going on?”

The voice makes me jolt back. Marcel stands in the doorway, his apprehensive gaze wandering over the empty room and then, more critically, the two of us. Nico turns statue-still next to me.

“I’m…I’m changing up my bedroom,” I tell him.

But Marcel isn’t looking at me. His eyes have paused on Nico, digging in, burning as the two stare each other down.

“I can see that,” Marcel answers softly. “And yet it doesn’t really answer the question, does it?”

“Nico offered to help.”

“Who knew Nico had such a generous spirit?” Marcel smiles unkindly. It sets Nico off like a wind-up toy, as predictable as anything.

“You got a fucking problem, maybe you should be in here doing this shit for your sister.”

“She never asked—”

“You think she asked me? Sometimes, people just need shit done. Sometimes, you have to takecharge. You think you’d know that, sitting there at Sal’s side all day. You can’t man up for your own family, how the fuck do you think you can do it for mine?”

“Shut up, both of you,” I say, trying to get in between them before this can spill into something much bigger than it actually is. “Do you need something, Marcel?” I ask forcefully, wedging myself in the doorway between them.

“I wanted to ask if you’d come to dinner with the family tomorrow evening. Thaddeus will be there. If…you’re still interested in that deal,” he says, very carefully. I know what that means. Somehow, Marcel is sidestepping Salvatore’s rules. Even with all his hatred for Nico, I can tell Marcel is at least a little hopeful that I’ve changed my mind about the engagement. That somehow in all the chaos of furniture and fresh paint around us, perhaps I’ve turned over a new leaf, and I’ll rethink my deal with Salvatore.

If only.

I just heard how Nico talked to him, how quick he was to gun for Marcel’s place in the food chain. Nothing has changed. No matter what Nico does for me, no matter how he refuses to leave me alone, he won’t let his rivalry with Marcel go. Not for anything. Not even for me. I am standing between Nico and Marcel in more ways than one, and I can’t back down from that.

“Of course I’m still interested,” I say, feeling as though I’m speaking to both men in the room. “I gave my word.”

Marcel’s jaw twitches with displeasure.

“Right. Tomorrow, then,” he says curtly. “Try to be there if you can. I look forward to meeting him.”

He says meeting, but I know my brother, and his tone saysjudging.

“I’d invite you, Nico, but I’m sure you have your obligations at the fighting ring.”

There’s no way the scheduling wasn’t intentional—a family dinner on the night Nico is always predictably out of the house, just so he can’t come mess it up.

“Where are you sleeping tonight?” Marcel asks me, so pointedly that it feels like an accusation. My mattress stands propped against the wall behind him.

“It’s not like we don’t have spare bedrooms, Marcel.”

“Agreed,” Marcel says shortly, his glare going over my head and focusing on Nico. “I’ll make sure there’s one ready for you tonight.”

Once Marcel is decently far down the hall, dodging all my piled-up furniture, I inch the door shut. I turn back around slowly. The silence is cold.

“Nico, you don’t have to do all this,” I sigh. “You shouldn’t be.”

“Too late to change your mind now,” Nico says, gesturing to the wet walls.

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