Page 44 of Secret Babies for the Italian Mafia Boss

“If you say you’re fine one more time,” he growls in a warning, and those blue eyes I adored so much when I first met him become stark, piercing me with an intensity I’ve never felt before.

I stay quiet because I’m not in the mood for arguing, and he lifts me into his arms, rushing me to the ambulance before the paramedic can even grab his bag.

“She’s coughing,” Taylor says from beside me, but Luca ignores him and pushes him out of the way.

I feel like I’m in the middle of a pissing contest.

“She’s inhaled some smoke. She’s out of breath.” Luca places me on the edge of the ambulance just as the paramedic opens the doors. His hand remains on my back, and he rubs the place between my shoulder blades. It feels good, and I relax as the paramedic takes my vitals. He checks my throat and nose for any smoke inhalation, but then he doesn’t say a word which makes me worry.

Luca instantly picks up on my mood shift. I don’t know if it’s because I look up at him, but he grips the paramedic’s arm and jerks him forward.

“What the hell does that look mean? I suggest you start talking.”

“Mr. Bianco,” the paramedic rushes to say his name, but how the hell does everyone know Luca? I know he’s Mr. Big Shot now and the only mafia lead in the city now that my father is dead, but just how many jars does he have his hands in? “It means nothing, Mr. Bianco. With my job, I’ve learned to school my features. She’s fine, Mr. Bianco. She’s fine.” His voice cracks and becomes high-pitched as if he had just hit puberty, and I turn my head to snicker.

“Fine? Or is she healthy and safe? Fine, doesn’t work for me. Fine is neutral. I do not like neutral.” Luca’s eyes fall on the man’s nametag. “Jason. So tell me, is she great? Healthy? Do I need to worry about her not breathing in the middle of the night?”

Jason shakes his head as he puts an oxygen mask over my mouth and nose.

Oh, that feels good.

I inhale deeply, getting as much of it as I can, then relax.

“She’s healthy, Mr. Bianco. I want her to sit here for ten minutes with oxygen. You won’t have to worry. She wasn’t inhaling smoke for a long period of time, so she’s more than okay, Mr. Bianco.”

“Good,” Luca grunts, taking a seat next to me. His hand slides up my back, then curls over my left shoulder to hold onto it.

“Do you need anything?” Taylor asks, squatting on the pavement as he looks up at me. He pats my knee. “I can help you with anything. If you need help cleaning, restoring, anything at all—”

“—She’s fine. She won’t be needing your help,” Luca cuts him off.

I turn to look at him and remove the mask from my face, which has him sliding it back over my mouth.

I slap his hand away and grumble. “That was rude, Luca. Taylor is my friend. He’s only trying to help.”

“I know, and like I said—” Luca removes his hand from my shoulder, and I suddenly feel cold, even though I’m still sweating from the fire “—We don’t need his help.”

“I didn’t realize there was a ‘we,’” Taylor says, keeping his cool.

“There isn’t.” I take a deep breath of the oxygen as my head begins to pound from their annoyance and constant bickering. “I belong to no one. I don’t want what is going on here, but both of you are my friends, that’s it. End of story.” A firefighter finally comes out of the shop and walks right to me, saving me from Taylor and Luca.

And while the conversation is over, Luca isn’t done staking his claim. His hand finds my shoulder again, but I don’t mind. His touch has always felt good, felt right, and eased me in ways nothing else ever has.

“Your apartment is safe due to the different ventilation systems. There is minor smoke damage on the ceiling, but the wall where the oven was needs to be replaced along with the oven. Looks like that oven has recently been recalled as well for faulty wiring.”

There used to be a time when I wouldn’t know what to do because I had no money. That isn’t the case now. This is my dream, and I’m going to repair it. “Thank you. I appreciate your help.”

“I’m just glad you’re okay, ma’am. Have a good day.”

“You too,” I say weakly, leaning my head against the side of the ambulance where the metal is cool and feels good against my head. There’s a pounding inside my skull that gets stronger with every beat my heart makes.

“I’ll take care of this, Camilla. You won’t have to worry about a thing.”

I don’t know why, but his words cause me to become furious. I rip the oxygen from my face and toss it in the ambulance and stand. “I don’t need anyone fighting my battles. I don’t need you to come in and save the day. I don’t need you to take over my life. I can do things. I can…” I press my hand against my chest as my eyes begin to well with tears. “I can do it! This is my bakery. This is my responsibility. I am able to repair my own business.”

“I know.” The two words are easy and smooth, his lips turning into a slight, understanding, tight grin.

“I can take care of myself. I can take care of my kids. This is mine. Not yours. I can do this,” I yell at him, wanting someone to understand that I don’t need anyone.

---