"I will," I promise.
After he leaves, I stand for a moment in the sudden quiet of the house, broken only by Marco's happy chatter as he arranges his dinosaurs. Whatever Raphael Conti does for a living, whatever dangers might lurk outside these walls, my job is clear: keep this little boy safe and happy.
The rest, including the inappropriate attraction I feel toward my new employer, I'll just have to deal with one day at a time.
Chapter 3 - Raphael
I hate this fucking suit.
My shoulders strain against the expensive fabric as I slide into the driver's seat of Dante's sleek black Mercedes. It's a beautiful car—German engineering at its finest—but right now, all I can think about is how I'd rather be back home with Marco.
And Annie.
I push that thought away as I adjust the rearview mirror. I shouldn't be thinking about those amber eyes or the way her hips moved when she navigated my kitchen this morning. I definitely shouldn't be remembering how she bit her lower lip in concentration while trying to make those dinosaur pancakes for Marco.
"Focus," I mutter to myself, pulling out of my driveway. I have a job to do. A dangerous one.
Twenty minutes later, I'm parking in the private garage beneath Dante's office building. On paper, it's the headquarters of Veneziano Imports—a legitimate business dealing in Italian wines and specialty foods. In reality, it's the nerve center of Dante's organization, with the top floor serving as his personal office.
Security nods me through immediately. They all know me. Dante's most trusted driver and occasional enforcer. The one who keeps his hands clean whenever possible because he has a kid at home.
Franco is already waiting by the elevator when I arrive, his imposing figure making even me feel average-sized. If I'm tall, Franco is a fucking giant.
"Morning," he grunts, a man of few words as always.
"How's Sarah?" I ask as we step into the elevator. Franco's relationship with the single mother had surprised everyone, most of all him. The organization's most feared enforcer, brought to his knees by a woman and her kid.
A rare smile touches Franco's face. "Good. Tommy started t-ball yesterday."
I grin, remembering how adamantly Franco had once insisted he had no interest in children. Now he's attending t-ball games and building dinosaur models with the kid.
"Marco wants a playdate with Tommy soon," I tell him as the elevator climbs. "Maybe this weekend?"
Franco nods. "Sarah would like that."
When the doors open to Dante's floor, we're immediately in business mode. Elena, Dante's wife and the sister of the Rossi family boss, greets us.
"He's waiting for you both," she says. "In a mood, fair warning."
"When isn't he?" I mutter, earning a small smirk from Elena. She's good for Dante: softens his edges just enough while still understanding the reality of our world.
Dante's office is exactly what you'd expect from the boss of one the most powerful crime families: spacious with floor-to-ceiling windows, furnished with tasteful antiques that probably cost more than my house, and immaculate apart from the stack of papers on his massive desk.
He looks up as we enter, dark circles under his eyes suggesting he hasn't slept much. "Finally."
"Traffic," I lie smoothly, though I know he doesn't believe me. Dante always knows when people are lying.
"Sit," he commands, gesturing to the chairs in front of his desk. Once we're settled, he pushes a folder toward Franco. "Moretti's made his move."
Vincent Moretti. The mafia boss who's been a thorn in our side for months. After the last attack, things quieted down, but we always knew Moretti was just regrouping.
Franco flips through the folder. "Two of our shipments hit in one night."
"And three of our men in the hospital," Dante adds, his voice cold. "One might not make it."
The muscle in my jaw tightens. These are our people. Family, in the way that matters in our world.
"What's the play?" I ask, knowing whatever comes next will mean I'll be late getting home to Marco. To Annie.
