Page 32 of Secret Mafia Daddy

When our daughter wakes up, her father is at least half-dressed, thankfully.

God, I can’t believe I’ll be forced to share a room with him for the foreseeable future.

I shouldn’t worry about that, because I plan to get divorced as soon as possible. Though, we still have to go through the wedding for my parents, and that’s going to take time and money.

Who’s going to pay for it, anyway? My father? I haven’t thought to ask. Everything’s been happening so fast.

I don’t have to wonder too long, because as soon as I get Chelsea dressed and her teeth brushed, my father calls.

“So, have you two set a date yet?” he asks immediately, and I have the phone on speaker so I just look at Angelo helplessly.

He takes the phone from me immediately and then speaks directly into the speaker, smiling as if he’s charming my father through the phone.

“As soon as possible,” he says easily. “We have to get the paperwork done but then we’ll fly you and your wife out for the wedding.” He flips through his phone, holding mine in his hand as my father rambles something about wedding cakes.

I swallow hard. It’s going to be so weird to have an actual wedding, going through the motions when I know this is just going to be a temporary thing. Angelo doesn’t seem to be bothered, though.

“How about the fifteenth? It’s a Saturday,” Angelo says, and I choke on air.

It’s the eleventh.

My father pauses on the other line. “That’s a tight window, but I think I can make it happen. Carissima, you still listening?”

“Yes, Papa,” I say, feeling really left out of the whole situation.

“I’m going to get a wedding planner. I’ll give her your number, she’ll travel to you.”

“Wedding planners travel?” I ask incredulously.

“If you pay them enough, they do.” My father chuckles. “Let me say hi to Chelsea and I’ll get out of your hair.”

I sigh, handing the phone to Chelsea, who runs away with it and lies down on the bed, talking to her grandfather in excited tones about her new father and how he plays with her all the time.

Angelo grins in pride and goes into the bathroom, returning with his hair slicked back and a white button-up on.

He looks down at my sundress. “Is that what you’re wearing?”

“What do you mean?” I ask, frowning, looking down at the floral pattern.

“Well, we’re going on our first date today,” he says flatly.

I blink at him. “What? Why would we do that?”

He shrugs. “Well, I thought we might get to know each other a bit better. And I guess it wouldn’t hurt to get a few pictures, a couple of posts on social media. Don’t want your parents getting suspicious.”

“I guess I’ll change,” I mumble, and head into the bedroom.

I look through my things and all I can find is a thin, black dress from before Chelsea was born, one that’s a little too tight across the hips after the baby weight. I frown at myself in the mirror, sucking in my stomach.

I’m not exactly happy with it but I do my makeup, a smoky eye and a red lip, and then put my hair up in a bun with some ringlets coming down.

When I exit the bedroom, Angelo is on the floor, putting together a floor puzzle with Chelsea. He looks up at me and does a bit of a double take.

“Oh,” he says quietly. “That’s better.”

“Do you think so?” I ask, oddly self-conscious about how tight the dress is around my hips and ass. I’ve gained weight since having Chelsea, since the last time Angelo had been with me, and I felt insecure.

“It’s perfect,” he says, and then clears his throat, looking back at Chelsea. “No, sweetheart, corners first,” he says gently, and she does as he says, fitting the corners all together.

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