Page 38 of Secret Babies for the Italian Mafia Boss

Parker.

His shoulders tense when he feels my gun.

“Mr. Bianco.” I hear the weak tremble in the words as he greets me. “Have…have I done something wrong?”

His friends look from him to me and decide to give me their full attention, beers in hand.

“A little birdy told me a few people are asking what my motives are, and I’m curious why the fuck so many seem to care.”

“I don’t…don’t know,” he lies.

“You’re a bad liar, Parker. I hate liars.” I step forward and take his beer from him. “I’ve given everything to this business, and in time, you’ll see I’ll be getting everything in return.”

But everything isn’t money, not when I have plenty of it.

My definition of everything has changed. She’s a woman now with long luscious strands of brown hair.

“It isn’t us, Mr. Bianco. I swear. We don’t question you. We love it here. We support you. It’s—”

“—You won’t tell me here. Protect yourself, for fuck’s-sake,” I grit. “Have you learned nothing? When I come back tonight, the three of you will come to my office. Understood?”

“Yes, Mr. Bianco.”

“And if you do what I tell you to, you’ll be getting promoted.”

All three of them gasp. Being promoted as a runner is a tricky business, but if you make a good impression, the ranks become easier to climb.

“We will be there,” Parker says, excitement shining in his eyes.

I slip my gun back in my holster and, without saying a word, I leave, but not without hearing a big exhale of relief coming from Parker.

“Holy shit, I thought he was going to kill me.”

“I thought he was going to make me bury you, P.”

“I would have if he told me to. You’re a friend, but that’s my boss,” the other says, and a sardonic grin spreads across my face.

I’m still in control of my kingdom.

I’m not afraid to slay any traitors to protect my name.

I win the battles. I win the wars.

And anyone who tries to say otherwise?

Dies.

Opening the back door, I head down the steps to the underground garage and press the remote to start my Mercedes. The leather seats are buttery and soft as I slide into the driver’s side. The interior is red, the stitching a midnight black, and the dashboard is carbon fiber.

The engine grumbles, and I press a button on the dash that allows the garage door to open. Driving through the dark tunnel, it brings me to the private driveway in the back of the building, and then I pull onto the road, heading to Camilla.

I couldn’t care less about the rent check. I don’t want her money. I’m going to cash it, so it looks like she paid, but I’m going to put it in another account for her so one day she’ll have a large sum of money. She can use it for her kids, for herself, I don’t care.

All I know is that she’s paid enough over the years, and now it’s time for her to be taken care of.

The orange in the sky holds promise. Something about it feels different. I chase the sun, putting less distance between Camilla and me.

When I arrive in town, I stop at the gas station on the corner and decide to get the kids a last-minute treat. I hope she doesn’t mind. I’m not doing nearly as much as I really want, but I’m keeping Alvize’s advice in the front of my mind.

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