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I smile at her gently. “Hey, sweetie. Are you having fun with Aunt Eden?”
“Yes!” She innocently grins. “She watches movies with me and my stuffed animals.” Holding up her hand, she wiggles her fingers. “She painted my nails too!”
“Pink sparkles. They look pretty on you, sweetie.”
We chat for another thirty minutes. She tells me about her day and all the fun she’s having with Eden. I’ve tried visiting Amara every other day, but it’s a process. Two men follow me, and then I change cars three times and stop for twenty-minute intervals throughout the drive. I assume every possible risk when it comes to her safety.
“Sleep tight,” I say after her fifth yawn. “Sweet dreams.”
She frowns. “I wish you were here to tuck me in and give me good-night forehead kisses.”
My chest twists. “I’ll be there soon, okay?”
“You promise?”
“I promise.” I press two fingers to my lips, kiss them, and touch the screen.
She mimics me. “Night, Daddy.”
Eden takes the phone from her. “She’s in good hands, Antonio. I promise.”
“Thank you, Eden.”
We end the call, and I spend the next four hours following Nuncio in hopes of finding Sonny. So far, the pathetic bastard hasn’t proven himself valuable. Time is conspiring against me. The longer I wait, the weaker and unprepared I’ll be.
When Nuncio leaves the strip club and goes home, I drive toward the cabin to get a few hours of sleep and check on Gigi.
I purchased the cabin five years ago for no reason other than to use it as a hideout if needed. No one except a few of my men know about it. Since I used the name of a deceased man from Missouri, it can’t be traced back to me either. It’s amazing how easy it is to steal dead people’s identities online.
Leo drops the book in his hand when I walk inside. “Hey, boss.”
“You can go home for the night.” I loosen my tie.
“You sure?” He rubs his eyes tiredly. “I can stay in the guest room … or in my car if you want privacy. Keep an eye on things.”
“Your choice.”
He forces a yawn. “I’ll hang out in my car and keep an eye out for you.”
I nod and slip into the bedroom to find Gigi snuggled under the comforter, sleeping with half her face smashed against the pillow. I tiptoe toward the bed, strip down to my boxers, and carefully lie beside her.
Next to my wife.
I’ve envisioned Gigi as my wife countless times.
It sucks I had to strong-arm her into it.
She’ll forgive me in the end.
If not, I’ll fuck her until she gives me my pardon.
I’m woken up an hour later.
It isn’t by Sonny finally coming for his war.
Or a Marchetti.
It’s by my wife, freaking out next to me.
