Page 74 of Secret Mafia Daddy

“So, we’ll leave the life, Catarina. We’ll go wherever you want. Do whatever you want. I just want you and Chelsea.”

“What?”

“You heard me. All I care about is you. My girls.” His eyes are on mine.

“Do you mean that?” I ask, and he steps closer, cupping my face with his hands and looking intently into my eyes.

“With everything in me, Catarina. I mean it,” he insists, and god, I want to believe him.

I want to believe him as much as Chelsea believes in fairies.

“Please, Catarina,” he asks in a broken voice. “Please don’t leave me again.”

I can’t do this. I can’t decide whether or not he loves me, because in the end, it doesn’t matter. I have to take the chance. I can love him enough for the both of us, because I feel so much. I feel everything so deeply that I can barely stand it.

So, staring into his eyes, listening to all his sweet words, I make a decision.

I kiss him, and Angelo moans into my mouth, pushes me down on the bed. Before I know it, he’s got his head between my legs, pressing his face against my core and I’m biting my fist to keep from crying out. I don’t want to wake Chelsea up. She is asleep in the other twin bed.

He makes me come twice and when I am begging for more, he smirks at me and shakes his head.

“Not tonight, kitten," he croons. “Tonight, I just want to take care of you.”

He runs me a bath, cringing a little at the lack of amenities in the Motel 6.

“We might have to stay at a few more of these,” I warn, and Angelo chuckles.

“That’s okay. I’d stay at a roach motel if it meant I got to be with you,” he says sweetly, and I kiss him again but he just lowers me into the bath, kissing my forehead.

He cleans me, limb by limb, and it’s almost erotic, or it would be if I wasn’t so bone tired.

I’m emotionally drained and still tired from what happened to me and Chelsea, and Angelo just takes care of me, pampers me. He washes my hair, towels me off when I’m done, puts me back into bed and climbs in with me. He throws an arm around my waist, pulls me close.

It’s the closest I’ve ever felt to him, and I love it.

“Should have known we were meant to be when we made such a perfect little girl,” Angelo murmurs against me, but I’ve already drifted away.

The next morning, Chelsea has climbed into bed with us and she’s between us. I can’t help but laugh.

Angelo grunts awake, wrapping us both in his arms.

“Papa, let me go, I got my wings and I want to show you how I fly,” Chelsea grumbles.

“Oh, sorry, baby. I should have remembered my fairy princess can fly now,” Angelo mumbles sleepily.

Chelsea “flying” consisted of her jumping up and down on the other bed.

Angelo cheers and claps for her. “Such a good job, baby, you’re an amazing flier,” he tells Chelsea, and she beams at him. I can’t believe I ever wanted to take her away from him.

He makes her so happy, and I want to give him the chance to make me happy too.

“What will we do now?” I ask, and Angelo grins.

“Well, we’re still married, so we’ll just act like it,” he says, and I snort out a laugh.

“Not that, Angelo, I mean about money. Now that you won’t be working for Dante—”

“I have a trust fund,” Angelo blurts out. “And you do, too, right?”

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