Page 26 of Secret Mafia Daddy

What I’ve seen of her so far has been wonderful, at least when it comes to our little girl, and we co-parent well, even if she’s a little overprotective. I can understand that. I would kill anyone who looked at our little girl twice, so I can’t really complain that Catarina worries about her.

But she doesn’t have to worry about Chelsea when I’m around. Sure, maybe she’ll scrape her knees. All kids do. Catarina is just so uptight all the time. She looks like she’s always clenching all her muscles. So yeah, maybe I did threaten to kill her yesterday, but we’re past that now, aren’t we?

I’m past her keeping Chelsea from me (kind of) and so she should be past how we reconnected. Now all that is left is to get married and put on a show for her family.

Then we can get to our real life.

I know that Catarina has plans that don’t include me, that she wants this to be temporary, and maybe I do too, but I want to try it out first.

I want what Dante and Nico have, and maybe Catarina’s it.

And if she’s not, I still have my little girl, and I won’t let Catarina take her far. Maybe she doesn’t know it yet, but Catarina will have me in her life forever because of that little girl.

Lots of men in the wiseguy lifestyle are married in name only, and it works out great, after all, so why wouldn’t it for me?

She mutters something under her breath and looks out the window, pulling down her dress to cover her thighs.

“You shouldn’t cover those,” I tell her, giving her a dark look.

“Just don’t want to look like a slut on my wedding day,” she mumbles.

I bark out a laugh. “You’re a very classy slut, kitten,” I tease her, and she shoots me a look that makes my dick twitch in my slacks.

What is it about a woman who doesn’t listen, who talks back, but would let me do damn near anything to her in the bedroom? For one thing, they were hard to find.

Most of my conquests were just party girls, good for one night or maybe a couple but never for the long haul. But that wasn’t what I wanted out of them, anyway.

I want that out of Catarina, even if she doesn’t know it yet. It’s not that I have feelings for her, god forbid, but there’s something about her that intrigues me.

Especially in this tight, white dress that seems built for all my wedding night daydreams.

“We’re still going to have a wedding night?” I murmur close to her ear as we walk inside, and she scoffs but I can see her shiver and it makes me grin.

We wait, standing in line for what seems like hours, before our number is called.

I’ve got all my paperwork in a briefcase and I shove it at the officiant.

“We’d like to get married, please.”

“Have you been through counseling?” the officiant asks in a droning voice.

I blink. “Counseling? No.”

Isn’t counseling for like weak, bored housewives? What the hell?

“If you get counseling, it’s only twenty-five dollars,” the officiant continues in that monotone voice.

“I don’t care how much it is,” I say flippantly.

“Sixty dollars,” she says as Catarina puts her own documents up on the desk. “Did you bring a witness?”

“No,” I groan.

The officiant shrugs. “Gotta have a witness.”

Catarina looks up at me and I shift around on my feet. “Wait here. Do not call the next person in line.

“Sir,” she starts, but I sprint out the front door and down the steps, finding a guy picking up quarters from the ground.

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