Page 88 of Savage Vow (Mafia Marriages 3)

Is it because we slept together, and I rushed out this morning without doing as he asked, talking?

This is my fault. It has to be.

When isn’t screwing up a relationship on me? I’m bad at relationships.

“Please,” Ashton whines. “It’s for school. The teacher gave us homework.”

“What do you have to do outside?” I ask.

“We’re supposed to count how many different colors we see in one area.”

There isn’t much room to roam freely, except for the garden. “Okay.” I concede. If the kid has a homework assignment, who am I to stop him?

He’s at a new school with new teachers. The last thing I need is for Ashton to fall behind.

“Grab your assignment,” I say and stand.

He reaches for his schoolbag and pulls out a sheet of paper and pencil.

“We have to be quiet. Okay?” I remind him. I don’t need to run into Francesco or anyone else if I can help it.

Ash follows my lead out of the bedroom and down the hallway. I’m careful to be quiet and make my footsteps invisible.

Thankfully, Ashton isn’t being overly zealous or his usual chatty carefree self. Maybe he realizes the importance of following my instruction?

Doubtful.

We quietly sneak down the stairs, through the long corridor, and to the French doors that lead to the garden.

He runs outside, foregoing shoes and socks. The kid is going to be a mess later.

I shut the doors without so much as a click of the lock as I stroll into the garden with my son. He’s already cataloging and jotting down all the details for his assignment.

I head across the stones for the swing.

It’s broken, knocked over, and unusable.

What happened in here?

Retreating my steps, I glance around, ensuring that it’s just the two of us and we’re alone. I don’t spot anyone else in the garden, not that I’ve seen anyone frequent the area in the couple of days that I’ve been at the mansion.

Ashton fills up the sheet of paper front and back before throwing himself down onto the grass, staring up at the sky.

The sun is setting, and it cast a warm orange glow across the sky. I find an empty space and take a seat.

A male voice clears his throat.

I glance behind me at the figure looming near the door. I hadn’t heard anyone come into the garden.

“You need to be inside, upstairs.”

The man is older, rougher, and unrefined. I recognize him from the hotel room, Alessandro. He’s the boss around here and the one that ordered me killed.

Ashton has finished his assignment. “Yes, of course.”

I don’t argue. There’s no need.

He’s a man not to be messed with, and he’s allowed my son to live here with me.

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