Page 54 of Secret Babies for the Italian Mafia Boss

“—No, listen. You can tell him the truth about the twins, but it will link you in more intimate ways. He’ll think he has rights to more information.”

“Like…” I’m not catching on.

“Like your father’s fortune. He might use your kids against you to find out where all that money is. I’m just saying you can’t be too careful.”

I never thought about that, but still, as I sit here and process what Taylor just said, my instincts tell me I have nothing to worry about. Luca has been nothing but a gentleman to me this entire time. He’s treated the kids amazing and while he is intense most of the time, never once have I gotten an ill feeling in my stomach.

Not like I get around Taylor. It isn’t often, and I blame being alone for five years with no friends. I have distrust in every person I meet, but Taylor hasn’t done anything either. He’s been supportive too. He’s helped me with the bakery and even helped me bake a last-minute batch of cookies. He’s been so nice.

But I’ve learned that nice can be a mask to trick everyone into talking to the devil.

“That’s something to keep in mind. Thanks for letting me know.”

He leans forward and plops his elbows on the counter. “Have you seen that fortune? What if someone else stumbles upon it?”

“No. Honestly, I don’t care if someone finds it. I don’t think they will. It’s in a place not even I would have thought he’d ever put it, but if someone does, then they need it more than me. I don’t need money. I am set if I truly want to be. I can dip into the funds my father left me without touching that fortune. I don’t want to, but I’ll probably use them to fix the bakery.”

“You aren’t even interested? I mean, it’s like a buried treasure and a fun scavenger hunt if people are invested enough.”

“I’m sure they are invested. I’m not. That money—” I exhale, trying to find the right words. “If I take it for myself, it’s like saying the last five years didn’t happen.”

“No, that’s payment for the shit he put you through. It’s payment for the isolation he caused. It’s fair to you, Camilla. It was like you were on an island raising two kids alone. I can’t imagine how hard that was, so yes, you deserve that mon—” he’s cut off by the sound of drilling coming from next door.

I stand, listening to make sure it’s coming from where I think it’s coming from. “That’s coming from the bakery!” I leave my coffee where it is and run out the door, nearly running into someone coming into the coffee shop. “Sorry. I’m so sorry.” I rush to my shop and notice a construction truck and five men in hard hats coming in and out of my bakery. “What the hell? Excuse me.” I try to talk to one of the guys, but he ignores me. “You’ve got to be kidding,” I spew in irritation.

I storm inside O-Squared, and when my eyes land on a man with a clipboard, I stomp my way over and snatch the clipboard from his hands. “Excuse me, who are you? And why are you here?” I ask, a little bit more rudely than I intended, but I don’t like unexpected people in my store when it isn’t open. “And how did you get in here.”

“I owed a favor to Mr. Bianco. He said you needed a new wall and such. I’m here to do that.” It’s hard to understand him with his thick New York accent. “It’ll be quick. Few days tops. You can ask Bianco. I’m good for it.”

I hand him his clipboard and rub my temples. “Mr. Bianco sent you here.”

“Ya,” he chews on a piece of bubblegum with his mouth open, and it makes this God-awful pop sound. “Said, huh, let me find it.” He flips through the paperwork and stabs his finger on the paper before blowing a bubble. “Said, ‘I need a favor. Fix my girl’s shop. It’s got wicked smoke damage due to a fire.’ Well, I said wicked. He said something more elegant because, you know, he’s Bianco. I owe him anything he wants. My Tracy got her chemo treatment because of him, and now she’s in remission, so whatever Bianco wants, he gets.”

“That’s great. That’s so great. I love that your Tracy is alive and well—”

He grins, pulling out his wallet. “—You want to see a picture? I’m so proud of her. She finally went back to school.”

I’m about to stop him, but Tracy is staring back at me in a small square photo. She’s wearing a blue shirt with pink hearts on it, and her hair has grown out, but it’s more like a pixie cut.

“Doesn’t she look great?”

My annoyance vanishes when I stare at the picture. “Tracy looks amazing. I’m so happy for you.”

“Thank you. She’s my little fighter. I don’t know what I’d do without that kid.” He tucks his wallet into his back pocket and grabs a pen that’s tucked over his ear, clicking it. “So, what can I help you with?” He asks, just as the drilling starts again.

“I didn’t pay for this!” I shout over the noise.

“What?” he yells in return.

“I didn’t—” the loud noise stops “—I didn’t pay for this.”

“It’s taken care of. Mr. Bianco took care of it already.”

“Did he?” I put my hand on my hips and wish that man was standing in front of me right now. “How long is this going to take?”

“Few days, max,” he reassures.

“Do you have Mr. Bianco’s cell phone number?”

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