Page 33 of Claiming His Baby


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But no matter how many articles I read, I can’t figure out what to do. Why can’t someone write an article like “So You Got Knocked Up by a Mobster: What to Do After Faking Your Own Death”? It’s kind of a niche audience, for sure, but daughters of mobsters need advice too.

God, I can’t work like this. Slamming my laptop shut, I get up and stretch, then head to the kitchen. At the very least, I need my coffee.

I tiptoe past the living room where Matteo is still asleep on the couch.

That must be breaking one of those “5 Ground Rules,” I’m sure. I didn’t even plan it when Matteo and Jack first met. I didn’t strive for “a fun, no-pressure atmosphere.” And I certainly didn’t try to explain to Jack in a “mature, non-threatening way” that Matteo was spending the night.

How badly have I screwed up?

And would going home with Matteo be yet another mistake?

Making as little noise as possible, I pour fragrant grounds into the filter and turn on the coffee maker. I wince as it whirrs to life and throw a glance at Matteo.

Damn it. Despite my efforts, he’s starting to stir.

I’m so not ready for this.

Last night, after he said the L-word, Jack started crying just in time, and I rushed to his bedroom. After that, I hid in there the entire night and fell asleep in the rocking chair next to the crib.

“Morning,” a deep, masculine voice greets me. God, he sounds so sexy when he’s sleepy. Looks hot too. Makes me want to get under that blanket and jump his bones.

I rip my gaze off him and pretend like the black liquid dripping into the clear container is the most interesting thing in the world. “Morning.”

Footsteps draw near, and my ears prick up. He’s coming. “Want some coffee?”

“Sure. That smells like some really strong stuff. Strong enough to wake the dead.”

I laugh and feel my nerves melting. “Yeah, that’s my secret. Coffee as black as my soul.”

Matteo wraps his arms around my waist and kisses my shoulder. “You have the purest, most innocent soul, kitten.”

God, why does it have to feel so good to be in his embrace? He’s so warm, and he smells so good. And it must be my brain tricking me, but I feel safe in his arms. But it’s probably just because he has muscular biceps.

In reality, I’m putting myself in danger by being with him. At the same time, now that he’s found me, he’s the only one who can keep me safe.

Matteo makes a happy little sound as he tightens his embrace. “You know my family thinks I’m crazy, wasting me time looking for you. But I knew there was no way you were dead. That night when we first met, you seemed so full of life.”

“You haven’t told them you’ve found me, right?” I ask, my chest heavy.

His muscles tense up. “No. But kitten, I’ll have to tell them sooner or later. They need to know about Jack—he’s their family too. Your parents would probably be elated to find out you’re alive, and you have a son.”

When he says his next words, I can hear his smile. “My son.” He plants another kiss on my shoulder. “I can’t believe we have a son together. And he’s precious.”

“Yeah. He’s pretty amazing.” I smile. I can’t help it when I’m thinking about Jack.

Maybe this is not just about keeping the peace between two mafia families. After all, we did meet before we knew about the arranged marriage.

“You know, after that night at the club, I went home, and I got into a big argument with my dad,” Matteo says as though he can read my mind.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. I had no idea why he wanted me home. He told me about the wedding, which was, like, only one month away. I’d just met this incredible girl who turned my world upside down, so I told him to call it off. I wasn’t going to do it.”

I giggle. “My dad would’ve smacked me silly for going against his order like that.”

“Oh, trust me; he was ready to hit me in the face. His face was so fucking red.” Matteo chuckles. “But I knew I couldn’t forget you, kitten. I thought I’d never be able to feel for my future wife the way I felt about you. It was the right thing to do. I didn’t care if my dad was going to explode from it. I had to see you again.”

“So you’re not just . . . You didn’t look for me because your family wanted you to?” I ask.

“No way. My dad told me I was insane. He said I was in denial. Even your family accepted your death, and I was the only one wasting my time looking for you.”

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