Page 29 of Luciano (Belles & Mobsters 1)

“Hello, Mr. Vitale.” Her voice shook as she greeted him.

“No, no.” I stared at my father who beamed excitedly and suddenly shed five years off his features. “No Mr. Vitale. Dad, sì?”

She gave him her soft smile and nodded, her eyes shining with unshed tears. I loved my father, he was my idol. He taught me everything. But at this very moment, the jealousy and envy ate at me. My wife paled and ran the moment she saw me. But she smiled softly and sincerely at my father.

“Sì, sì. Dad.” Matteo broke the moment, and it seemed my father only now noticed that Grace held a child.

“Chi è questo?” My father asked, his gaze on the boy. He would finally realize Grace was not part of this family. She was Romano. “Who is this?” he asked in English.

“Um, this is my son,” Grace murmured softly. My father gave her an odd look and then his attention returned to Matteo. He reached his hand and he gently took his chubby cheeks between his thumb and index finger, making him laugh. He used to do the same to me when I was a kid. “Matteo.”

His eyes snapped to Grace, and I didn’t have to guess what crossed his mind.

“It’s just a coincidence,” I told him in Italian. I didn’t want my father to draw the wrong conclusion. He didn’t need that hope in his old age when it would only get crushed sooner or later. But my father just ignored me and grinned at her.

“Ahhh, little Matteo,” he spoke softly. “You call me Nonno.”

I groaned inwardly. There would be no dissuading my father from allowing the boy to call him Nonno now. Grace barely stepped foot onto my property, and she was already conquering hearts. Damn it, I didn’t need this right now. I needed to use her to bring down her family and get her into my bed till I had my fill of her.

He wrapped Grace and Matteo into a hug. “Welcome home,” he murmured softly, placing a kiss on the boy's forehead.

The boy grinned and rambled something that sounded half Italian, half English.

My father chuckled softly. “Sì, Matteo. We have a beach and a pool.”

“Um, he can’t swim yet,” Grace muttered. “Ah, Mr-... Nonno, this is Ella. Not sure if you remember her. She’ll be staying with me.”

He remembered her. My father never forgot a face.

“Hello.” Ella looked just as happy to be here as much as Grace.

He smiled. “Hello Gabriella. Grazie for watching over Matteo and Grace.”

She smiled uncomfortably. “I think it was the other way around,” she muttered.

Grace pulled her into a hug. “We had each other’s back. We watched each other.”

They shared a smile before Ella’s eyes darted to Massimo, a blush coloring her cheeks.She likes him, I realized smugly. And with that realization, a plan formed in my fucked up brain. I knew there was no chance in hell Grace would ever share what happened since those two left the country, but I wondered if Ella would be an easier shell to crack.

“You must be tired,” my father fussed over the women and Matteo. “But first we eat.”

“Thank you.”

All of them headed into the house, while Massimo and I lingered behind. The moment they were out of earshot, I turned to Massimo.

“See if you can get any information out of her friend,” I instructed. “I want to know what they did for the past three years.”

“What the fuck, Luciano? You want me to torture her?”

“No.” After all, I wasn’t that cruel yet. “Seduce her.”

That shouldn't be too hard of a task. She liked him, and he obviously liked her too. Without another word, that conversation was over. Massimo didn’t need detailed instructions.

I was tired as fuck, but we needed an update on what happened over the last few days. Both of us headed into my office, and I dialed up Cassio.

“Luciano, you bastard,” he greeted me, his voice booming through the speaker. “You’re back. Is Massimo back too?”

“Yes, we are both here.”

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