Page 33 of Secret Babies for the Italian Mafia Boss

Chapter Nine

Camilla

“Mommy? Can I have a cookie?” Olivia asks, dropping her colored pencil on the table. She blinks up at me with the same blue eyes her father has, and my heart yearns to see him again.

I wipe down the counter and shake my head. “No, ma’am. You had a cookie already.”

“Please,” she pouts.

I can’t cave. She can’t ruin her dinner. No matter how cute she is, I can’t give in. “No, baby. You can’t. Once you eat your dinner, you can have another cookie.”

She slouches in her chair and folds her arms across her chest, pouting.

“Pouting about it won’t get you a cookie either.”

She gives me her back, giving me the silent treatment. The older she gets, the sassier she becomes, and I have no idea who she gets that from.

The bell jingles, and my smile fades when I see the person standing in the doorway.

Luca.

He smiles at me, and every bone in my body melts. It’s so hard to keep my guard up when he’s around. Even when I met him at the club all those years ago, he had a charming, elegant way about him that told me he always got what he wanted.

And while he has never said it, the money from that night helped me survive for a little while. Seventeen thousand dollars. I couldn’t believe it when it was sent to me, and I didn’t use it for drinks.

I didn’t touch it for months. It stayed in the cash app until my dad took me to a new town. I guess while I’ve been alone, I’ve had help. I couldn’t have started my new life without that cash from Luca and my dad. When that money ran out, though, the rest was on me, and having twins to take care of on your own isn’t easy. It was so expensive. I remember eating ramen and cereal for months just to get diapers.

It isn’t like that now. Life is looking a lot better than it did a month ago, and while I have my dad to thank for that, forgiveness doesn’t come easy, even in death.

“Mr. Bianco,” I greet him, then rush around the corner to Olivia and Oliver.

I stand in front of them, and Olivia wraps her arms around one leg while Oliver does the same to the other. They peek around my thighs to look at Luca, and right now, my heart is beating so hard I’m afraid it will pump right out of my chest.

He doesn’t know they are his kids, and I know if he truly looked at them long enough, he would put two and two together.

“Camilla,” he kisses my cheek, and my breath catches in my throat. “You look beautiful.”

Is he insane? I haven’t brushed my hair today. It’s been in a messy bun ever since I woke up this morning. I smell like cinnamon because I spilled an entire container all over my apron today, and I learned cinnamon spreads everywhere.

It was hell cleaning it up. That’s what I get for trying to make cinnamon sugar muffins at seven in the morning without coffee.

“And call me Luca. Mr. Bianco was my father,” he corrects me, taking my hand in his before lifting it to his lips to kiss.

My skin tingles in response, and I remember to breathe when he gently lowers my hand to my side.

“What are you doing here?” the words are breathless and shaky.

“I wanted to see how you were doing,” he says as he peers around the bakery before settling on Olivia and Oliver. He squats and unbuttons his suit blazer at the same time. “We haven’t met yet. I’m Luca. Your mom’s friend.”

“Mommy said no talk to strangers,” Oliver grumbles, pressing his cheek against my leg. He’s shyer than Olivia.

“She’s a very smart woman, and if she gives the okay for you to talk to me, I’d very much like to know your names.”

I glance down, hating how good he seems to be with them. If he just thought about it, he’d know they were his.

“It’s okay. Luca is a friend. You can talk to him,” I dare to say.

Olivia steps out first. “I’m Olivia,” she introduces herself. “That’s my brother. Oliver.”

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