Page 63 of The Mafia’s Fiancee

Until the morning.

She got up with a start, and I frowned as I released her.

“What’s wrong?” I asked, too groggy to even guess what time it was with how late we stayed up.

“Bathroom,” she said in a rush.

I rubbed my eyes, watching her take off.

I got it. The need to go to the bathroom was urgent in the morning, but—

The sounds of her moaning alerted me.

I rolled out of bed and hurried to the door. “Emma?”

She sighed, and even that gusty sound was loud enough for me to hear it through the closed door.

“Emmalina.” I resisted the urge to open the door and barge in, but I trusted her to have her privacy for good reason. “Are you all right?”

“Yeah.”

“You sound not all right.”

She cleared her throat. “My stomach is acting funky.”

“You’re sick?” I furrowed my brow, wishing I could rub her back or hold her. It pained me to know she was in pain.

“Yeah. Just a little.”

Damn. “Something you ate?”

“Maybe. Or...”

I tensed, waiting for her to finish. “Or what?”

“Um, I don’t know. Maybe the stress of all we’re dealing with lately.”

I rested my brow against the door, closing my eyes and hating that she was suffering. Last night, I felt better about how she seemed to be acting.

If I could change things, I would prevent her from ever struggling with me like this. We shouldn’t have this many difficulties in our way to being happy. It wasn’t fair that we were doomed from the start because too many people wanted to stand in our way.

It wasn’t right.

All this time, we’d been enduring a damn waiting game. For intel. For replies. For spies to see and hear who was doing what so we could plan how to react.

The only plans that Jimmy had suggested to me was for me to show up at that fight against Ferris. I would plan and train, to be in even better condition to defeat him. I wouldn’t go into such an important match up unprepared and lacking confidence that I could be the victor.

And after that fight, when we would take that stage to announce that I was Marlo’s secret son, the rightful heir to the Rossini name, I would marry her.

She would have my protection and that of the Rossini forces. I wasn’t sure that I would want to stay the boss. It would depend on how things shook out. But after the fear of not knowing where Emma was earlier, and also the frustration of being unable to search for my mother when she was taken, I realized that having the Rossini capos and soldiers reporting to me, serving me, I could better protect the two most important women in my life.

I didn’t need another occasion to be shown how important it was for me to see after their security, but hearing Emma suffer, viscerally sick from stress, I vowed again to provide for her and make sure she could be as happy as possible.

No matter what it took to make it happen.