Page 16 of Secret Babies for the Italian Mafia Boss

His door is open, and when I step inside, the marble floors shine. The window allows the beautiful night to come through, and I’d think nothing changed, but then I see Dad in the middle of the bed. He has on an oxygen mask, and I can hear the hiss from the door. He’s lost weight, his cheeks sunken in, and dark bags are under his eyes.

“Camilla,” he wheezes, reaching out his hand to me.

I don’t take it.

I sit on the edge of the bed and hold my chin high. “What’s killing you?”

“Karma,” he answers with a chuckle that turns into a nasty cough. “Lung cancer. I deserve it for how I treated you.”

“Let’s not get into that, please.”

“Are the children with you?”

“You don’t get to ask about them. Don’t you dare,” I whisper, holding in tears. “Why am I here?”

“I wanted to see you before I died.”

“Well, you died in my eyes a long time ago. You don’t get to meet them after tossing them away as if they were nothing, just like you did me.” I don’t raise my voice. I keep calm. “Just because you’re my father doesn’t mean you are off the hook for your actions and for the pain you cause. Being my father doesn’t give you automatic forgiveness. I’m not sure I can do that.”

“That’s okay. I’m happy you’re here. That’s…that’s enough for me.” He reaches for his nightstand and hands me an envelope. “This is for you and Oliver and Olivia.” He must see the surprise on my face and gives me a sad, regretful smile. “I always kept an eye on you. I regret so many things, Camilla. I was angry and thought I failed you, but I failed you the moment I sent you away. I don’t have long. I want to give you something. I want to know you and your children are taken care of, something I should have done years ago.” His eyes water and I have to look away from him to blink away my tears. I can’t lose it. Not now.

I open the envelope and notice the five-million-dollar check, then a set of keys fall into my hand.

“Those are to a bakery in town. It’s all set up. It just needs a name. It’s right next door to your friend, Cora too. She runs a coffee shop.”

“That will be a fun situation to fix,” I murmur.

“I’m sorry for that,” he says. “I’m sorry for so many things.”

“You really got me a shop? You can’t buy your way into my life.” I wipe my undereye when a tear breaks free.

“Your rent is listed in the contract. I knew you wouldn’t accept without you earning it yourself. I want you to be taken care of. Is…there a man in your life? Someone to watch over you?”

“No. It’s just me. I don’t have time for men. The twins are my focus. And I don’t want to talk about my dating life.” I stare at the contract, and while I’m excited, I hate to know it’s something my dad is trying to do to get in my good graces.

I’ll finally have my bakery, and I’ll pay him every month.

“How long do you have?” I ask him, tucking the check and keys away.

“Weeks. Months. It all depends.”

I don’t know why I say this, but I do.

“Maybe, maybe I’ll let you meet them. I’ll need to think about it, Dad. You really hurt me.”

“I know. And I know I don’t deserve to meet them.”

I want to be better than how he treated me when I needed him. It doesn’t mean I forgive him, but maybe I can find compassion even in my anger.

“I need to tell you something. You’re the only one who will know. My fortune, Camilla. You’re the only one I’m going to tell, but my enemies will come, and they will want it.”

“No, don’t. I don’t want to know.”

“I want you to.” He sits up with a grunt and whispers in my ear the location of hundreds of millions of dollars. “It’s enough to take care of you, your children, your children’s children, and so on. If you ever decide you want it.”

I don’t know if I do. It’s blood money. I’m still so mad at him for everything; the thought of taking one cent makes me feel guilty for all the promises I’ve made myself.

I swore I never needed my dad again, which adds to my turmoil.

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