Page 74 of Secret Babies for the Italian Mafia Boss

Luca

After dropping Camilla off at the hospital and staying for a few minutes to check on Cora, I had to leave to get to Club Forty-Seven. I’ve been very family-oriented over the last few weeks, and Alvize has picked up a lot of the slack, but things need to get done. Points need to be made, and I need to find out if any of my men have found out anything about the bakery and coffee shop.

“Parker.” I blow out a thick cloud of cigar smoke. “Take a seat.”

Parker nods, wiping his palms on his jeans as if he is nervous. He takes a seat and nearly knocks over a twenty-thousand-dollar vase by bumping into it. “S-Sorry,” he stutters, righting the expensive object before it can fall. “I didn’t mean to do that.”

“Are you nervous, Parker?” I ask, pouring myself a glass of sparkling water. “Do you want some?”

“Please,” he says quickly.

Humored, I pour him a glass too and hand it to him, and he chugs half of it down, then burps.

“I’m so sorry, Mr. Luca. Excuse me.”

I chuckle, leaning back and unbuttoning my jacket to get more comfortable. “Don’t worry about it. I take it you haven’t had sparkling water before.”

“No, sir.”

“Well, now you know not to chug it,” I advise, and he nods, gulping so hard I see his entire throat move.

We sit in the shadowed corner of my own private suite overlooking the dance floor. There’s soft music playing to keep a calm atmosphere until the club opens in a few hours. A server appears on top of the steps holding a tray filled with two silver platters.

“It’s dinner time. I figured we could eat while we talk business, Parker.”

“Is this like a last meal or something? Mr. Bianco, I haven’t done anything. I swear, I wouldn’t be disloyal. I love it here.”

I lift my hand to silence him. “You’re fine. This isn’t your last meal.” I chuckle. “Am I that bad?”

“You’re terrifying, and then you want to talk to me up here, alone, without context, giving me food…it’s a little unnerving,” he says honestly.

I like that.

I rub the end of my cigar in the ashtray and press a button on the coffee table that pushes the top higher like a makeshift table so we can eat.

The waiter places our food down and lifts the silver lid.

“I hope you don’t mind steak and a baked potato. I needed something hearty.”

“No. It’s my favorite. Thank you.”

We dig into our food, and the moment is filled with awkward silence. Parker continues to lift his eyes to me.

I sigh, dropping my fork and knife on my plate. I take a swig of water and fold my hands in my lap. “You’ve been doing a big job for me, Parker. I don’t think you know how important it is.”

“Yes, sir. I do, sir. Your family is important, and you want to keep them safe.”

“Have you gotten anywhere? Do you have any updates?”

Parker nods. “A little. It isn’t much to go on. Whoever is vandalizing the shops knows how to turn the security footage off and on, but I did follow Taylor, the guy you told me about who owns that bookstore.”

I lean in, placing my elbows on my knees. “And?”

“He did not visit his mom. His mom died about five years ago.”

“He could have gone to her grave,” I add, wanting to give options.

He shakes his head in disagreement. “He didn’t. I followed him to a rundown house.” He unzips his bag and pulls out a file, then hands me a stack of pictures.

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