Page 126 of Savage Vow (Mafia Marriages 3)

“The portions here are pretty small. Delicious, but you’ll be glad we ordered so many foods to try.”

I don’t argue. Aurielo seems to know what he’s talking about. He’s been here before.

When the waitress resurfaces, Aurielo orders for both of us, picking four meals off the menu. It seems a little excessive, especially with the appetizers already ordered, but I’m starving.

I sip my wine, enjoying the sweet taste on my tongue. It’s tart but not bitter, leaving no dry aftertaste. It’s good wine. I’m used to the five-dollar bottles at the grocery store. This wine wasn’t down the cheap aisle.

“It’s good, isn’t it?” Aurielo says.

“You know your wines.” I give him credit where it’s due. “Do you and the guys drink a lot?”

Aurielo chuckles. “Yes, but not typically wine. I save that for special occasions.”

My mouth is dry. I reach for the wine, taking another taste. “This is a special occasion?” I squeak.

Aurielo reaches for the bottle and fills my glass, not waiting for the waitress to return. She’s busy, and he seems intent on keeping me drinking. Maybe he wants to make sure we both have a good time and are relaxed.

I don’t know how we’re driving home tonight. But he’s still on his first glass, and I’m not.

“I’d consider our first real date a special occasion,” Aurielo says. “Funny how we do everything backward.”

He isn’t wrong. I smile at his remark. “Yeah, this isn’t how I saw my life going.” I don’t mean it in a bad way. It’s just all a surprise. It still feels unreal, but I’m settling into what we have.

A woman with six-inch stilettos approaches our table. She’s a platinum blonde. Obviously dyed. Her makeup is a little over the top, and her dress is two sizes too tight, and she’s sporting a pregnant belly. “Aurielo?”

Shit.

Do they know each other?

The smile disappears from his face. “Etta, what are you doing here?” He glances at her belly, which is practically in his face as he’s still seated.

“Having dinner with my father.” She points with her perfectly manicured fingernails across the restaurant at Dorian Bianchi.

My stomach flops.

The appetite I had for dinner vanishes. This is Etta Bianchi, the don’s daughter.

Wasn’t there something between Etta and Aurielo?

His body language is rigid and stiff. She’s practically sitting in his lap as she runs her fingers through his hair. “In case you’re wondering,” Etta says and glances at me. “The baby is his.”

I wasn’t wondering. It didn’t even cross my mind.

Now I can’t help but feel sick.

Bile rises to my throat. I reach for my wine glass and finish the liquid. I should have reached for my water glass, but I needed something to dull the growing ache in my chest.

“I’m not the only man that you slept with,” Aurielo says. “Show me a paternity test.”

Etta pouts, turning up the drama and waterworks. Her eyes glisten with tears. The girl could have been an actress, though she isn’t a good one. Just overly dramatic. She’s the kind of girlfriend that you run away from the first chance you get.

“Do you see what I have to deal with?” Etta says, glancing at me. “He’ll grow bored with you and your son, just like he did me. Don’t expect him to be a real father.” She runs her fingers through his hair again.

Aurielo grabs her wrist, stopping her from further touching him. “That’s enough,” he growls.

I can’t take any more of this woman. I stand.

Aurielo’s eyes widen. He must think I’m leaving.

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