Page 56 of Secret Babies for the Italian Mafia Boss

“Beautiful Girl, I know you can take care of this by yourself, but I’m showing you that you don’t have to.”

No one should be that perfect.

It’s why I’m going to tell him the truth. He’s been nothing but good to me, and I’ve kept him at arm’s length, doubting him, being angry at him for stepping into my life and trying to take over, but all he has done is help.

I open my apartment door, and a chill other than the weather slides down my spine like a slithering snake. I look over my shoulder at the bookstore, but Taylor is chatting with customers; I can see him through the window.

A few cars pass by, but the road still isn’t busy, and I watch the vehicles pass me, waiting to see if I notice anyone watching me—but I don’t.

The gripping turmoil is still there. Goosebumps arise all over my skin. When someone has their eyes on you, you just know. It’s intuition.

Not wanting to waste any more time, I step inside, and a hand on my shoulder stops me.

I scream, slapping the person’s arm away.

“Woah, hey.” It’s the construction worker that I spoke with in the bakery. “Are you okay? You look like you have seen a ghost, but I promise, it’s just me.”

“God, you scared me.” I press a hand to my chest and swallow.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to. We will be back tomorrow. We took out the oven, but after tomorrow, most of the damage will be gone. By this time next week, you’ll be looking at a brand-new store.”

“Great.” I’m sad. I really liked the store as it was, but that’s okay.

“And Luca said the oven was recalled?” he asks, stopping himself as he turns away.

“That’s right,” I say. “That’s what the fireman said.”

“Huh. Alright.” He takes off his worn blue baseball cap, scratching his sweat-soaked hair. He tries to leave again, but I grab his arm to stop him.

“Why?”

“It’s probably nothing. It probably has everything to do with the recall.”

“What is it?”

“Well, it looked tampered with to me. There was a cut to one of the wires. It was clean and crisp, and usually, that means someone cut it, but with the recall, maybe it’s just a faulty wire. I wouldn’t worry too much about it.”

Right, because that will make me worry less.

He snaps his fingers as if he didn’t just solidify the fact that I won’t be sleeping tonight. “And it looks like a mess in there, but don’t worry about cleaning it. We will be making a mess against tomorrow.”

“Right. Okay. Thank you for all your hard work.”

“Anything for Bianco.” He gives me a wave and climbs into his old beat-up white truck. It grumbles to life, the exhaust sputtering and coughing black smoke.

Well, that can’t be good.

I decide to take a peek into my bakery and lock up. It’s a good thing too. The construction worker left the key Luca gave him. Tucking it in my pocket, I brush off the drywall dust from a nearby chair and sit down.

The destruction seems to be more than I thought. There’s a giant hole in the wall where the oven was, but more wall was taken from the sides due to the fire. There are pieces of glass on the ground, and I know he told me not to clean, but I think about my kids. What if they come down here when I have my back turned and cut themselves?

From the back, I grab the broom and dustpan and begin to sweep.

Sweeping up my new life is so irritating. I’m always starting over. Something always happens, and I know that’s life, but God, I’m so sick of it sometimes.

My eyes water as I sweep, staring at the pieces of glass sliding into the dustpan. I feel like they represent every piece of me that’s been broken over the years.

One piece of exhaustion.

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