Page 38 of Savage Vow (Mafia Marriages 3)

“Mommy?” Ashton mumbles, rolling around on the sofa.

“I’ll tell you about it another day.” Thankfully, she brought me a new phone that I can use to text or call her. Not that Aurielo knows, but he’ll probably assume that I’ll ask to call her. Maybe I will, just so that he doesn’t realize I have a burner phone.

I stalk toward the sofa and bend down, lifting Ash into my arms.

Instantly, he wraps his arms around my neck, his face burying against my skin as he clings to me.

He’s heavy, but there’s no way in hell I’m going to let Aurielo carry my son to the car.

I try to hide the struggle, and Ivy opens the front door.

“Let me carry him,” Aurielo says.

“No, you’re a stranger to him.”

He sighs and relents. That’s enough of an answer to satisfy him. “Okay, but if you change your mind.”

“I won’t,” I snap back at him.

It’s a painful eight flights of stairs carrying Ashton. I’m not weak. I’ve had to move patients, but carrying a kid that’s deadweight down eight flights of stairs is exhausting.

When we finally reach the vehicle, I’m relieved to put him into the backseat. “He needs a booster seat.” I glance up at the apartment building as it looms above us.

The last thing I want is to leave my son with these two strangers, and I can’t very well carry him back up eight flights and then down another eight.

Aurielo nods as he loads the luggage into the trunk. “Is there one in your car or upstairs in your apartment?”

“It’s upstairs,” I say. “The spare booster is in Ivy’s car, which is locked in the parking garage.”

“I’ll be back.”

I feel bad for Ivy, having to answer the door when Aurielo shows up without Ashton or me. But I’m sure they’ll work it out.

I climb into the backseat with Ashton. My neck is sore and throbs. I crack my neck from side to side and grimace. My shoulders are tight too.

Several minutes later, Aurielo reappears, carrying a booster seat in his right hand.

The backdoor is left wide open, and he bends forward, leaning in to hand it to me.

“Thanks.” I secure the booster seat and then put Ashton into the seat before buckling myself into the vehicle.

Aurielo opens the front door and sits up with the driver.

Relieved he’s not scooting in close to my boy, I stare out the side window and try to relax. I’m exhausted. My feet hurt from standing on them all day. My back and neck hurt from carrying Ash down eight flights of stairs, and I don’t even get to go home after a long day at work.

My eyes burn with tears, but I don’t cry.

Aurielo and Francesco talk amongst themselves in the front. I can’t understand a word of what they’re saying, because it’s not in English.

Italian maybe?

They are mafia.

That would make sense.

I try to relax, but I can’t settle down.

My heart races as I glance beside me at Ashton.

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