Page 105 of My Daddy Is An Ex-Con

I grin dumbly. "Thank you."

After I hang up, I text Uncle Romeo’s pilot to inform him of my travel plans.

He responds at once.

Pilot:I’m happy you found a boy to love

Me:I feel like you’re patronizing me. Like you think I couldn’t

Pilot:See this is why I swore I’d never fly you anywhere again. You have a mammoth chip on your shoulder

Me:A mammoth everything, big boy

Pilot:I’m going to need a mammoth tip

Ignoring the pilot’s barb, I set my phone down and pick up the book I was reading.

It’s a romance novel—it’s calledHitman Daddy.

It’s about a beautiful nineteen-year-old blond boy from Manhattan named Christian who meets a growly Mafia Daddy named Nikolai who loves him with all his heart.

Unfortunately, I can’t focus on it—even though it’s adorable.

My brain can only think about one thing.

Err, one boy.

"Sunflower." Picking up the printed-off selfie Mattie and I snapped outside the prison before we left, I let my eyes drift over his perfect, proud face. "You’ve made my life complete."

Before Mattie, I was a bitter, growly, grouchy hitman who only cared about taking out my enemies.

He’s changed me. In so many ways.

My heart is full for the first time in years. I have someone I’m fighting for—an angel.

Mattie is the start and end of my existence. The pot of gold at the end of my rainbow. Where he goes, I follow.

Hell—the fact that I’m letting him out of my sight to accompany his friends to the beach ticks me off.

I desire to stand by his side. Hold his hand. Apply sunscreen to his dainty shoulders.

But nooooo—that would be too possessive.Mattie can’t think I’m a stalker or some shit.

"Good Daddies let their boys have their freedom," I remind myself—even though my heart slams like a motherfucker in my chest."They don't follow them everywhere. They let them chill with their friends and have a life."

It’s tough being so laid-back. Believe it or not, I’m uptight as fuck.

It’s assisted me through life. When my brothers need me, I give them one-hundred-and-ten percent. Our missions would go to shit if I took my foot off the gas.

Giosuè wanders into the study where I’m cradling my sunflower’s photo. "Hey, dude."

"Not now." I spit the words out as I hide the pic. "Leave."

"I need to ask you for advice."

"No."

"Oh, stahp." Giosuè plops down on the desk beside me. "I’m thinking of throwing a surprise party for Uncle Romeo. Everyone will come—including Dino."

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