Page 96 of Ruthless Vengeance
“It’s always good to see you, Francine. I came by because I need some of your famous chicken soup.”
Francine presses a hand to my forehead. “Are you ill?”
I laugh. “It’s not for me.”
“Is little Rosa sick?” She purses her wrinkled lips as she gives me an unimpressed look, as if I’ve not done a good enough job of taking care of my sister.
“My, uh…girlfriend is.”
Referring to Clara as my girlfriend feels strange, only because it doesn’t feel strong enough of a word to reflect what she is to me. She is so much more than just my girlfriend, or even the mother of my child.
She is myeverything, and I hope more than anything that one day she will let me call her my wife.
“Girlfriend? Alexandro, come! Marco has a girlfriend!”
Her husband, the main cook atOlivetto’s, suddenly pops out of the kitchen, and I swallow a groan at the look of surprise on his heavily wrinkled face.
They both start speaking to each other in rapid Italian, but I know enough to understand that they’re discussing their relief that I’m no longer destined for a lonely life of being a bachelor.
If only they knew the full truth…
I don’t bother telling them about Zoe because then I’ll never leave, and I want to get back to Clara as soon as possible. I’ve already been away from her for too long, and I want to be there to take care of her when she’s sick.
“We should throw in a portion of cannoli for Rosa. And some focaccia for Andre. I know it’s his favorite. Oh, and…”
Francine continues to rattle off items to add to order, and I chuckle to myself.
After so many years without my parents, it feels nice to have someone fuss over me.
When I finally get back to the Westchester estate with armfuls of takeout containers in hand, I quickly drop everything on the counter in the kitchen before heading upstairs to see if Clara is up for some food.
When I slowly open the door to our room, I find her out cold in our bed.
Her breathing is soft and even, and her brow is a little furrowed from whatever dreams are running through her mind. Her face is still pale, but she’s drunk her tea and eaten half of her toast, which I hope is a good sign.
I press a quick kiss to her temple before shutting the door quietly behind me and heading next door to check on Zoe who looks to be starting to stir in her crib.
Her little fists wriggle in the air as she lets out little sleepy whimpers.
The second she spots me leaning over the crib, her eyes light up, and she lets out a frustrated cry that I know meanspick me up,now.
“Come here, princess.” I scoop her up into my arms, keeping my voice low as not to wake up Clara through the monitor. “Did you miss me, sleepy girl?”
She gurgles as her little hands reach for my face, and I press a kiss to her palm.
“Mama’s sick, so it’s just you and me tonight. How does that sound?”
Zoe chats away as she pulls at my hair, and I laugh. She really is the cutest little thing.
I change her diaper and grab a bottle of expressed milk from the mini fridge in her room before settling into the rocker to feed her.
Zoe’s eyes flutter open and closed as she feeds, fighting the need for sleep but also wanting to stare up at me.
As I rock her gently, humming some stupid lullaby I vaguely remember from my childhood, a wave of emotion crashes through me so hard that it takes my breath away.
I would do anything for this little girl,andher mom, and it actually terrifies me how much I love them.
Because loving them means I have something to lose.
