Page 51 of Secret Baby for the Italian Mafia King

I’m staggered because I’m not trying to fight. At least, I don’t think I am.

“I’m just saying. You wouldn’t last an hour with Harper by yourself. Not on anormalday, when you’re not dazzling her and bribing her with whatever her heart desires.”

“Harper getting whatever she wantsisa normal day now,” he reiterates.

I hesitate.

No counter for that. You’d think most mob bosses in old TV shows would threaten your children’s safety to tie your hands. Not us. Ren ties my hands with promises that I know he can make good on.

Ren acts as though that settles it, but it really doesn’t.

“…Why?” I finally dare to ask, watching her as she stares utterly enamored at the tiger, her little feet tapping in place. “Why are you giving her all this? You don’t owe me anything, Ren.”

“If I’m going to make you my wife; that makes her my child.”

My heart forgets how to do its job for a few seconds, until my brain starts pushing panic buttons to get the blood pumping again. Emergency override.

That makes her my child.

He says it sopractically. Like it’s a matter of fact.

I could almost tell him the truth right here in this moment. Two words, that’s all it would take.God, I really, really want to tell him.But I remember the way he looked the other night. His eyes empty, rage trembling in his breath. The way he marched to the door, barely responsive. That wasn’t the man I photographed minutes ago. That wasn’t the man standing next to me now, squinting against the sunlight.

I’m not sure I know who he is still. Not yet.

Maybe after the wedding—or after a few months—or maybe a year, when I’m more sure of it all—

If I asked Ren to move Harper to another home, if I thought she wasn’t safe with him, I think he would grant me that request. He would do what I wanted so long as it was really best for her. But if he knew that she was his? I don’t know. Maybe he would become just as obsessed and possessive of her as he is with me. Maybe it would draw that darkness in him out toward her, too. I don’t want my daughter to go through that.

Harper finally skips up to us. She asks us if we saw the tiger yawn and all his big teeth. Neither of us did.

“Come on, Harper,” Ren says, holding out a hand. “You and I are going to get something to eat.”

She looks at me, confused; I look at Ren, confused.

“I told you I’d take the bet. An hour.” His mouth quirks.

“I wasn’t serious, Ren—”

“It’s lunch. Shouldn’t be too difficult to bring her back alive from that.”

I scoff at his stubbornness, the sheer audacity of him thinking he can one-up me by taking care of her for asingle hour. Like it means anything. And if I focus on that, on the absolute absurdity of this man’s arrogance, I can pretend that it doesn’t also hurt being pushed out on a day when Harper is having so much fun. I don’t want to fight with him here in front of her and ruin this for her, but the tension is palpable.

“Where are you going, Mommy?” Harper asks.

“Nowhere. Ren’s just being silly.”

“You don’t think I could manage it?” he asks.

“Do you just want me out of your hair?” I ask, my tone light but my glare giving him everything my voice can’t.

“I want you to trust me.” He gently puts a hand on the top of Harper’s head. “At least where she is concerned. Come on, Harper. Your mother’s going to get her own food,” Ren answers on my behalf. He offers me cash, but I don’t take it.

“I’m not hungry.”

“In case you change your mind.”

The last thing I want right now is his money. It just pisses me off more.

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