Page 72 of Mafia And Taken

“You know that she’s been unwell. After what happened with my father, she’ll be devastated if I break off contact. Please don’t do that,” she whispered.

I paused before speaking again. “It all depends on you now—if you’re willing to accept your new life with me.” I looked hard at her. “I’m going down for breakfast now.”

I went downstairs. I waited for a few minutes, but she didn’t follow me.

I got out the pan I used for making pancakes and started to cook. Usually cooking relaxed me, but not this morning.

She kept saying she was in a prison. So, I would treat her like a prisoner if that’s what she wanted.

And the sooner she was pregnant with my child, the better.

Deep down, I was angry and annoyed because I told her last night that I loved her. And this morning she was acting like this.

I just couldn’t get through to her. I couldn’t make her understand that I was trying to protect her.

I looked up as I heard someone approaching—although I couldn’t see anything of the person because all I could see was the big bundle of fur they were carrying in their arms.

“Christ, Marco, why the fuck are you carrying Mr. F around? He’s got four legs the last time I checked.”

“Juliana says he’s exhausted.”

“Yeah, he has such a tiring life with all that eating, sleeping, snoring, and slobbering that he does.”

My brother scowled at me. “She says he’s jetlagged. She was worried he wouldn’t come done for breakfast by himself and asked me to carry him down.”

“When have you ever known Greedy Guts not to come hurtling over as soon as there’s any mention of food?”

“Look,” he growled, “Juliana’s got high blood pressure, and I’ll do whatever it takes to keep her happy, especially now she’s pregnant.” He set the animal down in one of the dining chairs and then attempted to brush the rust-colored fur off his black shirt.

“You know you look stupid carrying around that gigantic fluffball?”

“No one asked for your opinion,” he snapped.

“Whipped,” I muttered, despairing at how my brother acted when it came to his wife. I’d never imagined before he’d met her that he could ever soften for a woman, but he and Juliana were soulmates.

Mr. F was eyeing the stack of pancakes I had already set on the table, his furry snout twitching as his tongue hung out.

“Don’t even think about it if you value your life,” I said sternly, moving the pancakes further away from him.

Juliana and Camillo arrived downstairs and took their places at the table.

Ten minutes later, I concealed my surprise when Cate also came down and joined us.

It was obvious she’d been crying and that we’d had an argument.

Marco and Juliana diplomatically kept conversation casual over breakfast, and even Camillo managed to avoid putting his foot in it for once.

As Marco got up from the table at the end of the meal, he stopped by my side.

“Camillo told me about last night and the clean-up crew. What the fuck, Alessio? Do you know how hard it is to find a doctor in the vicinity who’s discreet enough that his wife and his ma don’t go blabbing our business all over the Italian countryside within five minutes of him leaving here?”

My gaze darted to Cate, but she was too much within her own thoughts to pay any attention to what Marco was saying. Even though she hadn’t actually met him as she’d been unconscious, I didn’t think she would like the news that the doctor who’d treated her last night was now dead.

“You’ll find another one,” I drawled, not letting him draw me into an argument.

“What did you need the doc for anyway?” he grumbled.

“This and that,” I said vaguely.

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