Page 157 of Secret Baby for the Mafia Don
For the first time, I see my home through different eyes.
Not as a fortress against the world, but as a sanctuary that can hold joy, laughter, memories.
The kind of place where a child might actually want to grow up.
I look in front of the fireplace and see two large white boot prints.
“Looks like Santa made it,” says a voice behind me.
I turn to find Maria carrying a tray of coffee.
“He didn’t have me on the naughty list this year, I guess.”
She shakes her head. “You were never on the naughty list, Don Calabresi.”
She knows what I do for a living, so it’s an odd statement, but I take it for what it is. I was the one who kept Christmas at bay, not a magical man with a sleigh and eight reindeer.
"Coffee, Don Calabresi?" Maria offers the tray.
I take the cup, but my eyes remain on the tree, on this new world taking shape around me.
"It's beautiful," I admit. "All of it."
What would my father think of me now?
The thought comes unbidden, but this time, I flick it away like a gnat.
I’m stronger than him, I realize.
Because I have love.
I have the love of a brother in Roman.
The love of a mentor in Antonio.
And most of all, the love of Gabriella, a woman who challenges me, excites me, makes me feel whole.
Maria leaves and returns with Joseph, setting up a splendid breakfast near the tree and the warm glow of the fire in the fireplace.
“Oh, my,” Gabriella gasps as she enters the room.
“Merry Christmas, Mrs. Calabresi,” Maria says. “I have tea for you.”
“Merry Christmas. Thank you.”
Maria and Joseph leave us.
“I love it when they call me that,” Gabriella says, a radiant smile lighting her face.
“Tea?”
She snorts. “Mrs. Calabresi. Merry Christmas, Don Calabresi.”
“Merry Christmas.” I give her a kiss.
She takes in the setting, her eyes wide with wonder. "Marco…"
Her voice trails off as she absorbs the breakfast spread, the twinkling lights, the carefully arranged table.
