Page 22 of Secret Baby for the Italian Mafia Don

I push her back this time, and she bumps the door, no space left between us.

“I just heard the happy news, Ava, and I’m here to give you my congratulations. You know, I’ve never seen anybody fuck up their life so fast before. Some kind of speed run world record you just set. And trust me, where I’ve been, I’ve seen some fucked-up, corner-painted, pathetic motherfuckers.”

“Get out.”

“I bet you, Sal, and Marcel think you’re all so fucking clever, don’t you?” I ask, ignoring the way her hands try to hold me back, the way her shoulders pin flat against the door. “So, whose idea was it?”

“That’s none of your business.”

“Oh, it is my business.Youare my business. You thought I was just gonna play with you for one night, then let you go just like that? You thought that was all you were worth? A few hours of my attention until I had something better to do? Is your opinion of yourself so fucking low you could trip on it?”

“Getoff!”

“You better stop pushing away the only person in this house trying to help you. Tell me who made the deal.”

She glares at me through those shaggy bangs, the cut on her lip now just a little crescent-moon sliver.

“I made the deal! I agreed to it! What else does it matter?”

“It matters because somebody’s using you. They’ll ruin your life, and for what? I don’t stop, Ava. They’re gonna learn that, just like you’re gonna learn that, pretty girl,” I mutter, running my thumb over her cheek and not letting her pull away. “This sets me back a step, maybe two. You’re getting signed away for life. You’ll have some fat fuck’s little prick crammed between your legs every night, his body sweating on yours. Is that worth it? Throwing away your whole future, just so your big bro can feel important for a few more weeks?”

She laughs. Of all the reactions, I didn’t expect that icy little sound, like a cold dagger.

“You can’t look past your ego for two seconds, can you?” she breathes. “I didn’t accept this because ofyou. You’re not that important. Maybe Marcel and Sal would find some other way to deal with you if they had to, or maybe they wouldn’t. But I did this for my brother, and I did this forme.”

I search her face, looking for some kind of clue in those hazel eyes and their ten thousand colors. What could they have possibly offered this girl? What would she have agreed to take in exchange forthat?

“You keep wondering what’s wrong with me,” she says, searching me in the same moment that I’m searching her. “But what the fuck is wrong withyou? What made you like this?”

“Nothing made me. I just am. And I know what I want.”

“No, you don’t.” She slips out from under me, going to gather her laundry off the floor. “Now get out of my room, Nico, before I really make you regret this.”

“I already told you once, and I made myself very clear—I don’t share.”

“Here. You want a fucking souvenir to remember me by?” she asks, throwing a thong at me. The scrap of black cloth bounces off my chest and drops onto the floor. I step over it, marching right toward her, but she expects it, meets me midway.

“I fucking warned you,” she says, bringing us body to body. It freezes me in the moment as she takes charge. She has to stand on her tiptoes just to whisper close to my ear. “You want toreallygo crazy over something, Nico?” she asks, soft and daring, our hips almost grinding together from the proximity. “My husband, whoever the fuck he is, and his ‘little prick?’ They’re going to take my virginity.”

She drops away from me, stares up at me with those wild eyes, and turns back to her laundry. She starts gathering it back into the basket again. She slings it into the corner as I watch her.

“But you and V…”

“No, not me and V,” she says, cutting me off before I can ask. Her eyes burn as she looks at me again, her mouth stretched into apainful, ironic smile that seethes with hatred. I don’t know if it’s for her or for me. “I never let him.” She laughs. “I was afraid that it would hurt.”

She stomps out of the room, leaving me standing there alone with her clean laundry and her old stuffed animals.

“It will,” I yell after her, but she doesn’t turn around.

She just yells back,

“Good.”

7

Ava

In two hours, I’m scheduled to meet my husband-to-be for the first time.

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