Page 74 of Daddies of the Underworld

“Sometimes.” Matteo crouched beside her, expensive coat brushing the museum floor. “Not always. You don't know until it opens.”

Matteo had slipped into Sofia’s education like he'd been waiting his whole life for someone to hand him a child with too many questions. He checked her homework every night now. Not because I couldn't, but because Sofia liked the way he explained math as if the numbers were suspects and she had to interrogate them.

He bought workbooks two levels above her grade and called them missions, which meant she wanted to do them.

He didn't talk down to her.

None of them did. That was the part wearing me down. Not the sex. Not the way they looked at me when Sofia wasn't in the room. It wasn't even the apologies that came in quiet, unexpected moments. It was this.

I loved her with everything I had for five years but I could not be her father.

Luca clapped. “Now that we have admired the sparkly rocks, we move to fossils.”

The fossil hall became a spy mission because Luca could not walk through any building like a normal person. Sofia held the plush volcano against her mouth like a communication device while he whispered instructions in a terrible accent. Their mission was to find the most suspicious skeleton.

“What makes a skeleton suspicious?” Sofia bounced on her toes and peeked behind one of the many counters.

Dante caught Sofia by the back of her coat when she tripped near the marine reptiles. He didn't yank or scold. One second, she was tipping forward, the next he had her upright again.

She giggled and hugged his leg. “You're very good at catching. I thought only Matteo was that fast.”

“Who do you think taught Matteo?”

“You really taught him?” Sofia gaped. “Can you teach me not to trip?”

“Of course.” At this point, Dante would promise her anything.

I stared at the floor because watching Dante get dismantled by a five-year-old in unicorn sneakers was equal parts hilarious and adorable.

We ate lunch in the museum cafe, which had overpriced soup and bread Luca declared adventure bread because apparently courage could be assigned to carbohydrates.

Sofia accepted this immediately.

Matteo removed the lid from her juice before she asked. Dante traded his chips for her apple slices because she announced chips tasted better from his plate. Luca wiped tomato soup from her chin without making her feel like a baby.

This was getting to be too easy. That was the part I could not trust. They belonged to Italy. Which meant losing them would not be a clean little hurt I could patch over with soup and a bedtime story.

Matteo's phone lit up for the fifth time since we’d left the apartment. He silenced it again without checking the message.

The phone calls had become increasingly common. Despite Matteo’s ability to remain calm, still, and completely unfazed, the phone calls we're beginning to cause Dante to give him side glances.

Italy waited for them. The alliance, their businesses, and their enemies, the life I had run from, and the life that had not stopped existing because they were in Chicago would not leave them alone.

Phones, voicemails, and emails could only be ignored for so long. Eventually, someone would need them. Eventually, if they did not come back, someone would come for them.

His hand covered mine beneath the table, and I startled.

He leaned closer, keeping his voice too low for Sofia to hear. “You're thinking too much. Today is a day to enjoy. Nothing more.” His thumb moved once over my knuckles. “We will talk before anything changes. I swear it.”

That was not the same as promising nothing would change. I respected that was a promise he could not give me but that he tried his best.

After lunch, Dante kept his promise.

We found a quiet corner near a hands-on exhibit where kids built tracks for wooden cars.

Dante removed his coat and folded it onto the floor.

I crossed my arms. “Why does this feel like the start of something I should stop?”