AllFreeNovel
Share Us
"A familiar presence," I repeat quietly, pinching the bridge of my nose. "Why not."
"You sound like you've got a problem with that," he gripes. The rumble in his voice tells me that if I was there with him, he'd be puffing out his chest and proudly showing the sneer he's mastered over decades. "This isn't the time to be fucking around. You know, the guys at the casino, they've mentioned you seem off your game. Something about a hot little thing you put under our family's protection, and they can't figure out why."
Anger flares through me, turning my voice to ice. "That so?"
I'm going to have a talk with my men. One they won't enjoy.
"Tried grilling Big Luck for details, but that blockhead insisted it was nothing," my father grunts. "I hope he's right. Wouldn't want to see you let yourself get weak over some pussy."
I hear a pop in my jaw from squeezing it so tight. I learned long ago that exploding or giving my father any significant reaction to work with is precisely what he wants. So while telling him to fuck off in much more colorful, furious language is sorely tempting, I make my words even and steady. I give him a glimpse of the family leader he likes to pretend he doesn't see in me.
"You insist on being at the meeting? Fine. I'll see you there. But don't expect me to be weak. You are no longer the don. If you fracture the loyalty of our family any more than you already have by stirring up more shit, brace yourself. You will get no special treatment from me because I don't fucking tolerate disloyalty, not even from my own father. I may run things differently, but I enjoy the older forms of Caputo punishment. Remember that."
His words are angrily choked out. "You're threatening me? I'm looking out for the good of the family! This is a matter of pride! If you were half the Caputo you ought to be by this point in time, you would be more established, you'd be continuing with the way we used to—"
I hang up. I don't necessarily regret my veiled threat, but letting my temper affect me where he's concerned was unwise. Though admittedly, it was satisfying to hear his shock and fluster.
My father and I have a complicated relationship, but it's not so twisted that I would actually harm him. If he crosses me in any real way outside of his small slandering, I'll find a punishment befitting him. Sent away under protection to some other state, or perhaps off to an island full of retired people his age.
Still, I said what I said because he needs to stop comparing me to him. I have no intention of being a carbon copy of the Caputos who came before. Brute force got my family far in the past, but it's a quick way to an early death, especially for newer members. I want long-term payback. I want a gilded empire that outlasts the old mafia ways.
I also want to ignore all that ambition and my failed expectations for another moment of peace in Loren's arms. I've been thinking about her all day, and now as I step into the house I used to so often ignore, I glance around for any sign of her.
I gave her the mother-in-law's suite, knowing she would perhaps be more comfortable with that. It means we could avoid each other entirely if we wanted. But I don't want that, yet I also don't want to intrude on the safety I want her to feel here.
A screech cuts through the quiet of the rest of the house, and I startle, hand jumping back to the gun tucked in the waist of my pants, hidden under my suit. I don't always walk around my casino armed, but I have made a habit of it ever since Loren was nearly attacked in the parking garage.
Then I realize the squeal came from a child, and I move hesitantly through the dim kitchen, flipping on lights until I can peer down the hallway toward the suite.
As if on cue, a half-naked toddler—Evelyn, she said her name was—rushes from the back rooms. Her infectious giggles bubbles through the air. She has a skirt on, and her dark hair is a chaotic swirl over her head.
I find myself completely mesmerized as Loren appears, chasing after her daughter with a heart-melting smile on her face. She doesn't see me as she scoops up the adorable girl and swings her up high, kissing her cheeks and blowing a raspberry on the child's little round belly.
More infectious laughter. God, it's so bright and innocent. So foreign, but in a pleasant way. I've never heard a baby laugh in person. I've hardly been around children in general, being a single child to a selfish mafioso father in a family of ruthless criminals. And since the casino is not a place for kids, I find myself fascinated by the image in front of me.
Loren looks at Evelyn like that pudgy little angel hung the moon, sun, and stars. She wrestles a shirt onto the girl and places another kiss on her head, settling her on her hip. Then, before she turns to go back into the rooms, her eyes snag on me, and her eyes go wide as she stills.
"H—hi," she fumbles, swallowing and turning as if to hide her daughter from me.
She's fiercely protective of Evelyn. I knew this already, and yesterday it was more evident by how she momentarily panicked over me seeing the little toddler as she was moving in.
And perhaps I understand that protective instinct to a degree. Because when Loren told me some fuck boy jackass knocked her up and ran from the responsibility, I almost choked on rage. I still plan on tracking him down. I have the same contact who looked into Loren's background in the first place working on this right now. The moment he finds the guy, I'm going to make that fucking idiot's life hell if I decide to let him keep it at all.
Because Loren deserved all the support she can get. Especially now that I know more about her past. Speaking of, that contact of mine also gave me information on her father.
An alcoholic. Gambling addict. Two stunts in jail. Suicide.
I want to know more about her relationship with him. It's a heavy topic, but I need to know just how much Loren has been trying to shoulder on her own for so long. I'll need to broach the subject carefully, so she doesn't shut down at the line of questioning and run.
"Buonasera," I reply, tucking my hands into my pocket and approaching in the least threatening way I can manage.
"'Good evening,'" she translates with a slight smirk. "Watch out. Sometime in the future, you'll try pulling Italian on me, and I'll whip out an entire poem in your mother tongue or some shi—" She catches herself, glances at Evelyn, and clears her throat. "Something like that."
I bite back a smile. Loren watching her language around her daughter is entirely too charming to me. So far, she hasn't ushered Evelyn away or hurried off, so I examine the girl again with curiosity.
She's examining me in return with large, dark eyes. Her cheeks are flushed, tiny fingers curling in her mom's shirt. Most children jabber, but she doesn't make a sound as she considers me.
I find myself smiling despite myself. "Ciao, tesoro."
