Page 71 of Mafia Kingdom

"Yes," I say simply. "They're here to keep us safe."

She considers this, her small face scrunched in thought. "Like bodyguards for famous people?"

"Exactly like that."

This answer seems to satisfy her, and she returns to her icing duties with renewed focus. I watch her, marveling at her resilience, her ability to adapt to circumstances that would overwhelm most adults. But I'm not naive enough to think this is sustainable—eventually, the reality of our situation will catch up to her. To all of us.

The kitchen door swings open, and Karen enters, dressed impeccably despite the early hour. Her gaze sweeps critically over the mess of mixing bowls and flour-dusted counters before landing on Lily.

"There you are," she says, her voice carefully neutral. "I was worried when I didn't find you in your room."

"I'm helping Sasha make cinnamon rolls," Lily announces proudly. "Like Mom's recipe."

Something softens in Karen's expression at the mention of her late sister-in-law. "That sounds lovely."

I offer her coffee, which she accepts with reluctant gratitude. We maintain a careful civility in front of Lily, though I can feel the weight of Karen's unspoken questions and accusations.

"After breakfast," I say to Lily, "why don't you show Aunt Karen the gardens? They're beautiful, and Buddy would love a good run."

Lily agrees enthusiastically, already planning which paths to explore. Karen meets my eyes over the rim of her coffee cup, her expression clearly communicating that our conversation from last night is far from over.

Before she can say anything, Marco appears in the doorway, already dressed in one of his impeccable suits, his expression guarded as he takes in the domestic scene before him. Our eyes meet, and even across the room, I feel the electric connection between us, the pull that defies all logic and self-preservation.

"Good morning," he says, his deep voice causing Lily to look up curiously.

"Are you Marco?" she asks, studying him with undisguised interest. "Sasha's boyfriend?"

I freeze, mortified, but Marco doesn't miss a beat. He crosses to the counter, extending his hand formally to Lily. "I'm Marco Walsh. It's a pleasure to meet you properly, Lily."

She shakes his hand solemnly, clearly charmed by being treated like an adult. "Your house is really big."

"It is," he agrees gravely. "Perhaps you and your aunt would like a proper tour later? There's even a game room that doesn't get nearly enough use."

Lily's eyes widen. "A game room? Like, with video games?"

"Among other things," Marco confirms, the corner of his mouth twitching in what might almost be a smile.

I watch this exchange with a strange mix of emotions. Marco with Lily—it's a collision of worlds I never imagined, yet he handles it with surprising grace. For a man who commands fear and respect in the criminal underground, he shows remarkable patience with a nine-year-old's questions.

Karen, however, remains stiff and wary, her coffee cup a barrier between herself and Marco. When he addresses her directly, her responses are polite but cold. I'm relieved when Tony appears, requiring Marco's attention for some security matter.

Before he leaves, Marco catches my hand briefly, his touch lingering. "We need to talk before I leave," he says quietly. "Find me in my office when you're finished here?"

I nod, conscious of Karen's disapproving gaze. Marco's departure leaves a strained silence in the kitchen, broken only by the oven timer announcing the cinnamon rolls are ready.

As promised, after breakfast, I send Lily and Buddy to explore the gardens under the watchful eye of Marco's security team. Karen reluctantly agrees to accompany them, though not before fixing me with a look that promises our conversation will continue later.

I find Marco in his office, bent over paperwork, his expression grim. He looks up when I enter, some of the tension leaving his face at the sight of me. I try not to look at the spot on his desk where we had sex, but it’s hard to keep my gaze trained on him.

"Is everything alright?" I ask, closing the door behind me.

"The meeting with the O'Reillys has been moved up," he says, setting aside whatever document he'd been reviewing. "I leave in an hour."

Fear spikes through me. "So soon? I thought it was tonight."

"Deckie O'Reilly likes to change plans last minute. It keeps his enemies off-balance." Marco rises, coming around the desk to stand before me. "Michael arrived this morning. He'll oversee security while I'm gone."

He takes my hands in his, his expression more serious than I've ever seen."While I'm gone, don't leave the estate under any circumstances. If anything feels wrong—anything at all—call me immediately."

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