AllFreeNovel
Share Us
I breathe out a sigh of relief. Finally, something that I have an easy answer to. “You can call him whatever you want.”
With that, he settles back into playing with his toys and doesn’t mention it again. Later that day, while we’re getting dinner ready, he calls him Enzo. I contemplate whether I should let Enzo know Matteo knows he’s his dad, but I have a feeling that when he’s ready, Matteo will tell him himself. He’s a smart child like that.
Chapter Twenty- Enzo
I’m going to bring Emma to negotiations with me. She barters like she belongs in the mafia herself.
She is the daughter of a lawyer, and in some ways, lawyers are worse than the men in the mafia. Brutal tacticians. It’s what makes Eric so dangerous, even when we have him under close guard.
“My mother can watch a four-year-old by herself. She raised four kids, in case you forget,” I tell her as we get ready for the morning. Instead of leaving the room before dawn today, I stayed. Now, with Matteo enjoying cartoons on the bedroom floor while we get ready in the en suite bathroom, we have the kind of argument you'd expect from parents.
It's bittersweet in a way. This is what I always wanted. One of the things I have been missing out on over the last couple of years. And yet, Emma is so damned stubborn that it's irritating the hell out of me.
“She’s raised four of her own kids. This one is mine. And I’m saying I’m not comfortable leaving without him unless I know he’s going to have a familiar face around. He’ll be more comfortable that way," she argues with me.
“Our kid,” I tell her. It's semantics at this point. Enzo is my child, but she’s the one who has raised him. I’m still earning my place in his life.
I can already tell I’m losing this battle.
Things are changing today. I've spent the last couple of nights sleeping on the couch in the same room as she sleeps in the guest bed. Every day, I wake up with a kink in my neck and soreness in my back that hasn’t existed before.
I’m aware my youth won’t last forever, but I’ve never felt the effects of aging until now.
We’re going shopping for a ring today. And once I get my ring on her finger, there will be no more sleeping separately. My fiance belongs in my bed as much as she belongs everywhere else in my life.
Normally, I would have no problem with Matteo coming along with us, except for this day will be the first date we never truly got. Having Matteo around means I won’t be at the center of Emma’s attention and, selfishly, I want to be today. When I slip my ring onto her finger, I don’t want her to think of anyone but me.
And I don’t think the jeweler will appreciate having a four-year-old running around his shop. Not that Matteo is a rambunctious child, but I don’t want to take the chance of him destroying anything valuable.
“I just think it would be easier for Matteo if he could go to my father if he needs them. He knows my father. He’s used to him. What is so dangerous about letting him out of his homemade prison cell for one day?” She stubbornly crosses her arms over her chest and lifts her chin in defiance. Andy is snickering in the living room and it’s taking everything in me not to glare at him.
This isn’t how I intended to start our day together. I made her breakfast and brought it into bed for her. Matteo cuddled between the two of us while we watched the morning cartoons. It was going so well.
We have an appointment set with a jeweler we need to get to. I’m not too concerned about the fact we are running late. Camilo has been doing custom pieces for my family for a long time. We pay him extravagantly well. It would be a poor business decision to penalize us for being late.
And our business with him goes further than just jewelry. The cash flow my family provides allows him to live the lifestyle he has grown accustomed to, one he won't want to live without. He’ll wait for us.
“What is the harm in letting him watch Matteo with your mother?” Emma argues.
“He hid you away from me because he thought the two of you would be better off without me in your life. I can’t trust him with my son. How do I know the temptation won't get too great and he’ll take off with Matteo?” I say through gritted teeth. I'm sure even she can hear the flaws in her logic.
Her breath catches in her throat. While she doesn’t want to believe her father will take off with Matteo if he gets the chance, and take him away from not only me but her as well, it’s a possibility she can’t discount.
“Besides, it isn’t my decision. The Don has ordered he is to stay in his room. Nobody is dumb enough to disobey one of his orders.”
Emma deflates. She doesn’t understand the hierarchy of our family, but she realizes there isn’t anything she can say to convince me to allow her father out for the day. I hate being the reason her shoulders slump and her eyes turn sad.
“If Matteo asks for him, my mother can bring him to the room and they can watch a movie together. There will be guards at every door and every window. I’m not trying to deny Matteo a relationship with his grandfather, and I’m not trying to make you uncomfortable while we leave. I just can’t let him free,” I concede.
She nods her head slowly but doesn’t argue with me any further. After I finish planning for Matteo, she kisses him on the head and pulls him in for a long hug. It’s the first time he’s left her side, besides when he goes to spend time with his grandfather, since they arrived. Her smile is tight, and she pulls away from him with great reluctance. I almost give in and tell her we can bring Matteo, but the two of us have to spend time alone. There’s so much I need to learn about the woman who almost got away from me.
A startled laugh comes out of Emma when she sees the car we’re taking. A slick, black sports car. Cars have never been my hobby. Andy loves cars, and he’s the one who makes sure most of my cars remain in working order. But a car like this sends a message.
“And here I thought you traded your bachelor’s car for a dad’s car.”
“Do I look like the man who needs to trade anything in? Besides, this is only a bachelor’s car when a bachelor is driving it. Here soon, it’s going to be a married man’s car,” I assure her. She rolls her eyes. My pretty words don’t woo her, but I have more than just words up my sleeve.
She rests a hand on the middle console between us. Taking a calculated risk, I weave my fingers in with hers. She jumps, not expecting it, but doesn’t pull away. I squeeze it. I don’t take my eyes off the road, but I know by the hitch in her breath that her beautiful bright red blush is spreading over her face. Her grip is loose in mine like she might need to pull away at any moment.
