Page 195 of SINS & Riley
“Oh, good.” Misha pops up with his stuffed Nips, working the toy like a puppet. “We think you should marry Mr. Grass Bowl. “Dominic cuts me a sideways glance.
I bite my lip. What? I know the cardinal rule—thou shalt not say asshole in the presence of angels of innocence.
“You should follow your heart,” Katya adds dreamily. “And don’t take no ships from anybody.”
Dominic and I both lose it.
Solemnly, I nod. “You got it, sis.”
I remind the two to buckle up as Dominic mutters under his breath, “I really need to monitor her YouTube.” Then he quirks a grin at me. “You feeling okay? Want me to drive?”
“No, I’m fine. I’m taking it easy. Just a quick trip to the salon. Nothing to get my blood pressure up,” I assure him before he marches me back to the house.
Months holed up at D’Angelo Central, all high fences and guards, and I’m stir-crazy out of my skull.
Maybe it’s my twisted glass-half-full mentality, but after all this time, aren’t we safe from the Keenans? Because the thought of our baby chained to this house, day in and day out—it’s more than I can bear. It’s heartbreaking.
So me and the little one busted out. Well, with Dominic and the kids since Boris has the day off.
Dominic’s gaze flicks to the side mirror. A little too sharp.
“Do you see something?” I ask, nerves prickling.
I try to breathe through it. Calm, soothing breaths. Everything’s fine.
Now that the D’Angelos have their brother back, an entire stable of wild horses couldn't drag him away. He’s wrapped in the mafia equivalent of bubble wrap—raw power, blood ties, and love.
So much love.
And, by extension, so am I.
Dominic glances back at Misha and Katya, blissfully lost in their audiobooks, headphones clamped tight. Then he says, “Thought I saw a familiar vehicle.”
A sharp alarm clangs in my chest, even after all these months. “The Keenans?”
He shakes his head. “No, just… paparazzi. They caught wind that Dante has an heir. Is a pretty high price on a picture of you.”
God. Not them again.
Apparently Chicago’s bad-boy disappearing off the face of the earth for months doesn’t sit well with the gossip hounds.
I’m not exactly sure what they think they’re after, but tailing Dante’s SUV at midnight is basically asking for a bullet in the grass-cheek.
Dominic exhales, shaking his head again. “We’re fine. The only real threat right now is your terrifying driving.”
“Har.”
By the time we pull up to Mila’s new salon, I’m practically buzzing. When I still didn’t act on Dante’s insane little piggies journal ramblings, he went and bought Mila a salon.
I’m not sure how he knew it was Mila’s dream to own one someday, but here we are.
The kids hop out, and Mila meets us at the door. “Where’s Babushka?”
Dominic reties Katya’s ponytail the way she likes it. “She wasn’t feeling well. So it’s just Riley and the kids.”
“What about you?”
Dominic blinks. “What about me?”
