“I know. I just…” I press my lips together, trying to find words that don’t make me sound ridiculous. “I don’t want you to think this impresses me in the wrong way.”
His brow lowers slightly. “The wrong way?”
I gesture around us, helplessly. “The house. The staff. The gates. All of it.” My voice softens. “I don’t want you thinking I’m standing here adding up dollar signs.”
Understanding settles over his face.
“I take care of myself,” I say. “I take care of Livy. We’re okay. Most of what I have goes to her or back into the sanctuary, but that’s my choice. I’m proud of what I’ve built.”
“You should be.”
The quiet certainty in his voice nearly undoes me.
I look away before he can see too much. “I just needed you to know.”
“Amelia,” he says gently.
I force myself to meet his eyes.
“I have spent my life surrounded by people who want something from me.” His gaze holds mine. “Trust me to know, you are not one of them.”
My throat tightens.
“You don’t know that.”
“Yes,” he says. “I do.”
I have no idea how to respond to that.
Luckily, he saves me from trying.
“Now,” he says, offering me his arm, “let’s go find that daughter of yours. I heard her asking one of the guards if he could teach her how to do a choke hold.”
My eyes widen. “She what?”
Maverick’s mouth curves. “I believe her exact words were, ‘Only for emergencies.’”
“Oh boy.”
“Don’t worry. Matteo told her he would need your written permission.”
I stare at him.
He looks entirely too pleased with himself.
A moment later, my daughter’s laughter echoes through the hall.
Then Maverick’s twin comes around the corner with Livy tossed over his shoulder like a sack of giggling potatoes.
“Brother,” he says in mock seriousness, “I found this intruder attempting to gather intel. Shall I take her to the dungeon?”
“See, Mama?” Livy yells, hanging upside down. “I told you he had a dungeon.”
I press a hand to my forehead. “There is no dungeon.”
Stefano gasps. “No dungeon? What kind of respectable crime family do you think we are?”
Maverick gives him a flat look. “Do not help.”
