Page 92 of Unwilling Vow (Mafia Marriages 4)

Matteo does as asked. He’s carrying several sheets of paper, printouts of something. I can’t be bothered to focus on the business—the mafia or Barone Industries at the moment. My attention is entirely on Olivia and Luka.

My family.

I flip on my laptop and punch in my password, waiting for the machine to boot.

“What’s that?” I ask, seeing the stack of pages he’s printed. It’s copies of something, but what is it that he needs to show me?

“I’m glad you’re sitting down,” Matteo says.

“I don’t like the sound of that,” I grumble under my breath.

There’s static crackling through the room, and I glance to my right.

On top of the dark green filing cabinet is the baby monitor. It’s on and transmitting from the nursery. I left it plugged in and forgot about the damn unit. It’s not like I’ve left Astrid alone for more than five minutes. Even when she’s sleeping, I usually have her at my side, or she’s cuddled against my chest.

“I wish I knew what to do.” Olivia’s voice carries through the baby monitor.

“I swear if she wakes Astrid,” I mutter.

Matteo holds up a hand for me to wait. “I think you should listen,” he says and steps closer to the monitor, turning it up.

“You want me to spy on the mother of my child?”

Has he lost his mind?

I may not have gotten much sleep recently, especially with Astrid now at home, but Matteo has been handling the business. “Is the job too much for you?” I ask.

His gaze tightens, and his jaw is tight. He slams the papers on my desk, letting me see whatever it is that has him in a tizzy. “Your girl—Olivia, whatever the hell she is, she’s playing you.”

I don’t believe him.

I glance down at the bank receipts. There’s a deposit into her account for five hundred thousand dollars, and it’s not from me.

“Did you trace the account that deposited the funds?” I ask. He can’t give me bits and pieces without having an explanation already in mind.

“Yes, and it goes to a shell corporation. When I dug a little deeper, I was able to pinpoint it to Luka Caruso. Sir, she’s playing you.”

I don’t believe it.

I can’t believe it.

“She wouldn’t do that,” I say, staring down at the evidence. Is that why she wanted to be brought back to the compound to kidnap my daughter?

“She would, and she did. She also booked two plane tickets to the Maldives.” He shows me a copy of the receipt for the nonrefundable flight scheduled to leave tomorrow.

“The Maldives? There are extradition laws,” I say. She can’t just steal my daughter and run away.

“Not with the Maldives and in parental custody cases, even most countries that do allow for extradition don’t always follow through.”

While she doesn’t have a passport for Astrid, it wouldn’t be hard to have one faked, especially by a scumbag like Don Caruso. If he’s helping her flee the country, then he probably has the paperwork she needs to leave.

Olivia’s voice carries through the baby monitor into my office. “All I want is to protect you,” she whispers. “How can I do that with two mafia families fighting over you?”

“I want security around the compound increased. Every soldier and capo, have him brought back here to make sure Olivia doesn’t kidnap my daughter.”

I don’t bother looking at the footage that I came into my office to view. It doesn’t matter. It’s irrelevant now that I’ve seen the truth and heard enough on the monitor to confirm my suspicions.

I stand. My chair squeaks as it slides against the wood floor behind me. “Have the alarm armed and two of my men stationed outside the nursery. I want two additional men following Olivia anywhere she goes. If she goes to the bathroom across the hall, I want to know about it.”

I grab the papers in my fist, the pages crinkling as I storm out of my office and up the stairs. The last thing I want is to wake Astrid, but I need answers from Olivia, and I’m not sure I’m going to like what she says.

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