Page 17 of Forbidden Bond

CHAPTER 6

Topher

TWO MONTHS LATER

My first inclination that my family wasn’t normal or treated the same way as everyone else’s came when I was eight years old. I convinced my mom to let me go to the playground close to our home for a little bit, and my bodyguard accompanied me. Back then, I hadn’t realized it wasn’t normal to have a bodyguard follow you everywhere you went.

As soon as we got to the playground, people started whispering and pointing and talking—mostly parents. I could hear snippets of what they said:

“That’s the D’Angelo boy.”

“Did you hear his father killed that drug kingpin the other day?”

“Such a brutal family. He’s a child now, but who knows how he’ll turn out when he’s older?”

The entire city was talking about us. That day at the playground, parents wouldn’t even let their kids near me. And when I told my father, his solution was to threaten the entire neighborhood. After that day, I was only allowed out with the children of other made men in the family. Other kids just like me.

Except they weren’t like me, not really. My entire life, I’ve been sheltered and separated because of my last name. I never used to let it bother me—until I met a beautiful girl whose eyes shone like comets.

The only time I’ve let myself be hurt in a long time was two months ago. And it’s all thanks to Katherine Malone.

“Come on, little man,” I prompt. “Just four letters. Say my name.”

Daniel’s eyes glimmer. They look so much like Christian’s. Thankfully, he gets his looks from his mother. My nephew is probably the most precious thing in the world. He’s a happy, healthy little boy and the biggest blessing to this family.

I wait patiently to see if he’ll say anything or make any noise, but other than a short giggling sound, nothing comes out. I sigh, placing a kiss on his forehead before moving away from the stroller to take a seat at the table.

The rest of my family is already sitting down. Mom’s having a conversation with Daniella while Christian and Carlo trade whispered words, tension lining their faces. I’m guessing all’s not perfect in the Cosa Nostra.

“Done bothering my baby?” Daniella questions when I sit down.

I smile. “How hard is it to say the name ‘Toph’?”

“Okay, first off, he hasn’t even said ‘mama’ yet, or ‘mom.’”

“Because his first word will be ‘dad,’” Christian interjects.

I chuckle at that. Daniella ignores him. “Also, he’s six months old. Lay off him, Uncle Toph.”

“Shouldn’t babies be talking at six months old?” I ask, rubbing my jaw.

My mom offers me a cool look. “You didn’t start speaking coherently until you were two, Christopher.”

Daniella laughs at that while I roll my eyes. “Nice, Mamma. Torment me on my birthday, why don’t you?”

“You know I love you, mia cara,” she says with a soft smile. “Happy birthday.”

“One year older and still a dickhead,” Christian says, leaning into his chair.

I flip him off with my middle finger.

“There you go proving my point.” He chuckles. “How’s the repair shop coming along?”

“Took you long enough,” I mutter. “It’s coming along fine, Chris. I haven’t burned the place down yet. I’ll let you know if I do.”

“No fighting,” Carlo says, trying to keep the peace. “It’s Topher’s birthday.”

“I wouldn’t mind it if they fought. What’s a D’Angelo birthday without a good old-fashioned brawl?” Daniella says, waggling her eyebrows.

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