Page 10 of Mafia Daddy's Girl

So when he finally comes into Bellissimoa few days later, dressed in an immaculate suit, his eyes burning into me from across the room, it's a shock to realize that I'm actually nervous.

"Hello, Emilia."

I'm sitting in a back booth, working on my laptop. Sandro sits next to me, close enough for our knees to touch, and the proximity has me sweating.

"Hi, Sandro. How are you?"

"Better now." His eyes scan the room, looking for someone, but he also focuses on me, a smile tugging at his lips. "Did you miss me?"

I can't help myself. "Of course."

Alessandro's smile widens, and he looks genuinely pleased. He moves his hand, resting it on my thigh. I suck in a breath, and he looks over, his dark gaze piercing mine. Just his touch is enough to have my panties dampening.

Focus, Emmy. Work first, pleasure later.

I clear my throat and turn my laptop so he can see the screen, exiting out of the budget spreadsheet and instead pullingup a list of names and notes. Sandro locks in immediately, playfulness fading, replaced by the cold, calculating Boss everyone else in the DeLuca family knows so well.

"I've been keeping an eye on things, just like you asked," I start. "This is everyone who has come to Bellissimo in the last two days. There were thirty-two civilians whose names I didn't get, of course, but everyone else is in the organization or at least affiliated."

Alessandro nods. "Good. Any suspicious behavior?"

I shake my head. "Nothing too substantial, but I did notice something odd. These last five names on the list are members who left town after the explosion. I don't know why any of them would have left, but it just seemed like something you'd want to know."

"You're right, Emilia. Thank you."

"Of course. There's also this." I click into the browser, bringing up a website. It's an article from the local paper. "This woman was found murdered yesterday. It doesn't look like a mob murder, but she's a stripper and her death is being treated as suspicious."

Alessandro frowns. "Do you have any idea why she would have been killed?"

I hesitate, not sure how much information I should be giving out, but ultimately, the truth wins. Enzo is dead, and Alessandro is the Boss now. My old boss doesn't have any secrets to keep anymore. "She was Enzo's mistress years ago. They kept seeing each other after his wife left him, but I hadn't heard him mention her in years. I just assumed he'd had enough of her. It could just be a coincidence."

Alessandro is quiet for a minute. "Why haven't I heard about this before?"

"Enzo kept it a secret."

"Who else knows?"

"I don't know. Not many. Maybe Marco. But Enzo kept it hushed up pretty tightly."

"Hm." Alessandro is staring at the screen, reading the article. I can tell he's not paying attention, though, because his hand keeps squeezing my thigh, his fingers drawing little circles over the fabric of my dress. "Good work, Emilia. This is very helpful."

"Of course. Anything you need."

"Anything?"

My mouth goes dry. "Um, yeah. Anything."

"Come upstairs with me."

He stands and adjusts his suit jacket. "Follow me up in a few minutes. We don't want any unnecessary attention."

I try not to show my disappointment. I get the reasoning, but I’m also hungry for everyone to know that the new Boss favors me. "I'll get drinks from the bar, then."

"Be there in fifteen minutes."

The old bartender, Mick, gives me a nod as I lean up against the bar, tapping my fingers on the worn wood as I wait for him to make his way over. My thoughts are elsewhere, namely upstairs with Alessandro, when a DeLuca associate sidles up next to me. I barely recognize him—someone we hire to do menial jobs—but apparently, he recognizes me. And he reeks of cheap liquor.

"Hey there, beautiful,"

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