Page 46 of Secret Mafia Daddy

“Wedding planner,” I say shortly, walking out on the back balcony, and Angelo groans.

I smile. Saved by the bell.

19

ANGELO

Catarina had so clearly been jealous of the clothes that she found in my closet, and that makes me smile through the rest of the morning.

She’s out back talking on the phone for what seems like hours, so I go upstairs and Chelsea is throwing things out of her mother’s luggage.

There’s a lacy bra on the nightstand, a couple of pairs of underwear on the floor, and clothes everywhere.

“What are you doing, crazy girl?” I ask her, picking her up and tickling her.

“I’m looking for fairy princess dresses,” she pouts. “I know Mama has some. I just know it.”

My eyes light up as I think about the conversation I had with Catarina earlier that morning.

“Well, my fairy princess, I think Papa might have something perfect for you.”

She gasps but then looks at me curiously. “Is it a kid’s dress, though? Because Papa, kid’s dresses aren’t pretty like fairies.”

I shake my head. “Grown up dresses,” I tell her, and lead her into the walk-in closet. She squeals and starts to flip through the dresses.

I chuckle and go back into the bedroom, putting away the clothes that Chelsea had flung everywhere. I need to make some room for their things. After Chelsea picks out her fairy princess attire, I’ll throw the rest out and make some room in my drawers.

I think I wear the same button-up and slacks every time I go out, anyway. I used to switch it up with blue silk shirts at the club, or even red when a girl told me it made the amber in my eyes pop, but now that I’m a married man, I won’t be doing that anymore.

I kind of like the sound of it. Married man. With child, even.

I wonder if Catarina wants more kids. I shock myself with the thought.

Do I want more kids? Something about it appeals to me, being able to see a baby all chubby and smiling up at me like Nico’s baby had at the coffee shop.

But another baby with Catarina? Do I want to be tethered to her for that long? I suppose it’s too late to worry about that, since Chelsea is already here. She’s already in my life forever, so what’s another baby?

I make a mental note to ask her about it when she’s not mad about the clothes in my closet when Chelsea comes out, wearing a pair of way-too-big stiletto heels with a red bottom and a sequined, pastel purple dress I’d caught on sale.

“Look at you,” I gasp, letting my mouth drop open dramatically. “A fairy princess.”

“All I need is wings,” she says. “But I’ll grow ‘em soon.”

“Papa could probably acquire you a pair until your real ones grow in,” I tell her, taking a picture of her with my phone to send to Nico and Dante.

“Really?” Her big, brown eyes widen. “You’d buy me wings?”

“Of course, sweetheart. You can come with me to pick them out.”

Chelsea jumps around in the heels, making a godawful noise that the downstairs neighbors would be pissed about if they weren’t all terrified of me already. I’ve already had several neighbors complain about noise, but they stopped when I told them it could be worse, I could be practicing my target practice each week.

“Let’s go now, now, now,” she chants, and then pauses. “Can I wear this?”

She’s wearing her own clothes under the dress and I snort.

“Not outside, sweetie,” I tell her gently. “We don’t want people to know you’re a fairy princess. They’ll get jealous.”

She looks at me for a moment. “You’re right,” she says, and steps out of the dress. It’s so big on her it just falls to the floor.

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