Page 50 of Secret Babies for the Italian Mafia Boss

I tuck myself in again and zip my pants, then head to the kitchen to throw away the soiled paper towel. When I walk into the living room again, she’s under a blanket and eating the food I prepared for her. She smears an apricot jam over the bread, adding cheese and a jalape?o.

“This is so good. Thank you for doing this. I don’t ever make anything for myself. I can’t remember the last time I had veggies and fruit. This is fantastic.” She barely swallows before taking a gulp of sparkling water.

I don’t like that she hasn’t taken care of herself. She deserves the best things, just like her kids do. When I take a seat, I wrap my arm around the back of the couch, and she snuggles into my side but lays the charcuterie board on my lap.

There will be certain aspects of her life that will change. First, I’ll have to make sure she has what she needs to care for herself. If we were together, there wouldn’t be a meal she’d miss. I’d cook for her, bring her breakfast in bed, then take her to an amazing restaurant for lunch while the kids were in daycare.

Camilla has this unique capability of making me want to plan out my life, but only if she’s in it.

“Can you tell me how you own the building?”

I shove an olive into my mouth, hoping this doesn’t cause her to run away. I won’t say that in the agreement she’s promised to me and me only. She’s independent and has a backbone that she won’t be afraid to use on me.

But you better believe, if Taylor tries to take her from me, I’ll make sure she knows she’s bound to me.

“Your father called a meeting with me. I was surprised, but since we always had a truce, I didn’t question whether to meet him or not. I did not expect to show up with him so sick. He asked me to keep you safe.”

“But you were rivals…” she says, confused.

“We had an agreement,” I correct her, scooting her closer to me. “It’s because of that agreement; he wanted me to protect you. We never went back on our word. We didn’t start wars or send deadly messages. He trusted me because of that. He said he didn’t protect you as he should have, so he gave me all his connections. I didn’t need them, but while I was there, I made sure to buy the building you were in.”

“Why?”

“I saw you before I met with your dad. I knew I needed a way to be close to you. Your dad agreed. It was a good way for me to keep an eye on you, but all the reasons I wanted were selfish. I only wanted a way to be in your life again.” I pop another olive into my mouth and wait for her to respond.

She’s twisting her hair around her finger and stares off into the distance. She’s quiet. So quiet I can hear the bubbles of the sparkling water hissing as they pop.

“I understand if you’re mad at me, but I really want to work through it. I don’t think you understand how much you imprinted on me, Camilla. I searched for you. I did everything I could to find you and came up empty. For five years, Camilla. Five. So when I saw you, I knew I had to do everything in my power to be close to you.” I turn to her, taking her hand in mine. “I understand if you’re mad or need time away from—”

She stops me from saying anything else by kissing me. Her hand is against my cheek, and the kiss is long but not heated, but it’s filled with the hope I’ve been craving for us.

“I’m not mad. I’m not mad at all. I’m surprised, but I feel…safe. I feel like even though my dad betrayed me, in the end, he tried to do what he could for me, and he called you. He must have really trusted you.” She blinks up at the ceiling as her eyes water. “I’m sorry.” Camilla wipes her tears away. “Our relationship was so rough. I wanted more with him, and I couldn’t have more. It’s too late.”

“May I ask what happened between the two of you that made you disappear? What did he do?”

She’s about to answer when my phone rings again, interrupting a very important conversation. I growl in annoyance, and that causes Camilla to laugh.

“You think that’s funny?”

“You’re cute when you’re growly.”

“I am not cute. I’m deadly. I’m a mafia boss. I lead the city.”

She puckers her lips and bops my nose. “And it’s cute.”

I grumble in disagreement. I’m not sure how that makes me feel. To others, I’d kill them if they said that to me, but with her, I’m glad she thinks I’m cute.

I’m a walking contradiction.

I press the green button to start the video call, and Alvize’s face takes up the screen. I tilt my head when the phone tumbles out of his hand, but then Oliver’s face takes up the full screen.

“Mommy?”

“Hey, baby. How was daycare?” she asks, having to scoot closer to me so her face can get in the screen.

“It was good. She tolded a story.”

“Told,” Camilla and I say in unison.

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