Secret Babies for the Italian Mafia Boss: Chapter 10

The picture I stole from Taylor is sitting proudly on my desk in a new frame, but the longer I look at it, the angrier I become. Taylor isn’t trustworthy, but right now, all it looks like is me becoming unstable and obsessed with Camilla instead of the man who is trying to protect her from someone who has ulterior motives.

She trusts Taylor more than she trusts me. My instincts are never wrong, and while I want Camilla to myself, the first thing I want is her safety and security.

Taylor infringes on that plan.

I don’t know what he is up to, but I will find out.

“I did the background check as you requested.” Alvize comes into the room, shutting the door to give us privacy from the club.

“I don’t like how skinny that folder looks.” I take a sip of whiskey, the burn adding to the determination I have to make Camilla mine.

“There’s nothing on Taylor, Luca.” He tosses the folder onto my desk.

“Nothing? Impossible. Someone always has something hiding in their closet.”

He takes a seat in front of my desk and exhales, pulling out a cigarette from his pocket.

“Hey, there’s no smoking in this room,” I remind him. “I don’t want my personals smelling like smoke.”

He tucks it away. “You got it, Boss.”

“Don’t call me that. I don’t like it.” I flip through the file, and all it tells me is how old he is and when he was born. It doesn’t tell me where he went to school, his old girlfriends, not even a speeding ticket. “It’s too clean,” I say with realization.

“My thoughts exactly. He’s had a recent identity change. No one is that clean. I couldn’t even find an old report card on him. It’s like he appeared out of thin air,” Alvize states with more exuberance than I ever expected of him.

I close the file and throw it in the trash. An alert on my phone blinks on my desktop since I have them connected. It’s a notification from Camilla’s apartment. Clicking the button, a video appears of a package being delivered, and I breathe a sigh of relief when the UPS worker leaves.

I am curious about what she ordered. It’s probably nothing, but I want to know everything she does, everything she likes, and everything that makes her happy.

Maybe I am a little obsessed, but can she blame me? She gave me the best night of my life and disappeared for years.

Alvize raises a brow, a question in his glance when I click out of the video.

“What?”

“You’re invested. You don’t invest in people. It isn’t what you do.”

“What I do and who I am are completely two different versions of me,” I answer, leaning back in my chair. “I don’t invest in anything that doesn’t pique my curiosity.”

“You need to be careful. She is the daughter of your former rival. She can’t be trusted.”

I tense my jaw, working my teeth together as I hold in my anger. Alvize means well. He’s a close friend and loyal to the mafia. He’s the only one who calls me Luca, too. Everyone else is required to call me Mr. Bianco.

“She vanished for five years, Alvize. Five. Years. Someone doesn’t do that unless the person they trusted betrays them.”

“Let me look into her for you to get you some answers.”

“No. I want her to tell me.”

“Why? She was just a one-night stand a few years ago, Luca. You shouldn’t be this involved.”

I stand, splaying my hands against the table as I take a deep breath to calm my anger. Looking up at him through my lashes, I tilt my head. “Don’t tell me what I should and shouldn’t be. Friend or not, I won’t let you diminish her because she was a one-night stand.” She was innocent, naïve, and all mine that night.

No one had touched her except me.

And I can’t help but wonder if that’s still the case. Surely not. She’s too beautiful to go years without sharing her bed with someone.

Alvize doesn’t understand that I had plans in mind when it came to Camilla. I was going to get her breakfast, take her out, and ask her on a proper date that wasn’t at Club Forty-Seven.

I had made plans.

And if there is one thing I have never done, it is plan. I’m more spur of the moment, but though Camilla might have been a guilty pleasure in a singular moment, she quickly became an ache of something I wanted more of.

“I want you to do a deep dive on Taylor. Watch him. I want to know his every move, his every breath, and every book he sells. I want to know when he sees Camilla. I want the time of day and if he bought anything. When he goes home, what he does at home, etc. There won’t be a stone left unturned.”

“I’ll get a few men on it.” He taps his fingers against his leg, and he only does that when he has an idea.

“What?” I ask, buttoning my blazer.

“What if one of us started to work there? In his bookshop.”

“He isn’t hiring, is he?”

“No, but I’m sure he could be if one of his employees doesn’t come to work.”

I think of Camilla and know I wouldn’t want anyone hurt for her sake; she’d be upset.

“Or we pay off one of the employees, buy their silence, they can live a better life and all that wonderful that follows. Then, one of our men works there.”

“Killing them would be quicker and more efficient,” he argues. “It would save everyone time.”

“I don’t give a fuck. Camilla lives across the street, and she would know if anything happened to Taylor’s employees; the first person she will think of is me.”

“Damn, you must really like this woman, Luca. I can’t seem to understand your infatuation.”

“You don’t have to,” I say simply, shrugging a shoulder.

The alarm on my phone blares as a reminder to go to the bakery and pick up the rent check from Camilla. Not that I’d need a reminder to visit her, but sometimes work can interrupt a good thing. When I got home two nights ago, I was burying a body, but I can guarantee if Camilla’s name showed on my phone, I would have dropped everything to get to her.

“I’m going to O-Squared. If you need me, that’s where I’ll be.” I begin to walk away, and Alvize says something that has me stopping in my tracks.

“The men working for you are going to question whether you’re still up to lead if you keep going on with this woman.”

I swing the door open and don’t bother to look over my shoulder as I reply. “Then tell them they can work for someone else. An empire isn’t built on many men, Alvize. It’s built from the quality of a few.” With that, I head down the steps and to my private garage.

I’m cutting through the club towards the back door when a few of the runners lift their chins as I walk by them. They are at the bar.

I pause, wondering if these are the men who have been questioning my ability to lead. For fun, I snake under my blazer and pull out my gun. I cock it for good measure so they can hear the trouble coming their way.

The head I choose to press the barrel against is a newer runner, but I know all the names of the men who work for me. He’s got black hair and a tattoo on the side of his neck.

Parker.

His shoulders tense when he feels my gun.

“Mr. Bianco.” I hear the weak tremble in the words as he greets me. “Have…have I done something wrong?”

His friends look from him to me and decide to give me their full attention, beers in hand.

“A little birdy told me a few people are asking what my motives are, and I’m curious why the fuck so many seem to care.”

“I don’t…don’t know,” he lies.

“You’re a bad liar, Parker. I hate liars.” I step forward and take his beer from him. “I’ve given everything to this business, and in time, you’ll see I’ll be getting everything in return.”

But everything isn’t money, not when I have plenty of it.

My definition of everything has changed. She’s a woman now with long luscious strands of brown hair.

“It isn’t us, Mr. Bianco. I swear. We don’t question you. We love it here. We support you. It’s—”

“—You won’t tell me here. Protect yourself, for fuck’s-sake,” I grit. “Have you learned nothing? When I come back tonight, the three of you will come to my office. Understood?”

“Yes, Mr. Bianco.”

“And if you do what I tell you to, you’ll be getting promoted.”

All three of them gasp. Being promoted as a runner is a tricky business, but if you make a good impression, the ranks become easier to climb.

“We will be there,” Parker says, excitement shining in his eyes.

I slip my gun back in my holster and, without saying a word, I leave, but not without hearing a big exhale of relief coming from Parker.

“Holy shit, I thought he was going to kill me.”

“I thought he was going to make me bury you, P.”

“I would have if he told me to. You’re a friend, but that’s my boss,” the other says, and a sardonic grin spreads across my face.

I’m still in control of my kingdom.

I’m not afraid to slay any traitors to protect my name.

I win the battles. I win the wars.

And anyone who tries to say otherwise?

Dies.

Opening the back door, I head down the steps to the underground garage and press the remote to start my Mercedes. The leather seats are buttery and soft as I slide into the driver’s side. The interior is red, the stitching a midnight black, and the dashboard is carbon fiber.

The engine grumbles, and I press a button on the dash that allows the garage door to open. Driving through the dark tunnel, it brings me to the private driveway in the back of the building, and then I pull onto the road, heading to Camilla.

I couldn’t care less about the rent check. I don’t want her money. I’m going to cash it, so it looks like she paid, but I’m going to put it in another account for her so one day she’ll have a large sum of money. She can use it for her kids, for herself, I don’t care.

All I know is that she’s paid enough over the years, and now it’s time for her to be taken care of.

The orange in the sky holds promise. Something about it feels different. I chase the sun, putting less distance between Camilla and me.

When I arrive in town, I stop at the gas station on the corner and decide to get the kids a last-minute treat. I hope she doesn’t mind. I’m not doing nearly as much as I really want, but I’m keeping Alvize’s advice in the front of my mind.

I don’t want to push her away thinking I can take care of her kids better than she can—that’s not the case at all. She’s provided for them beautifully, and all I want to do is add to it. I’d love to take them to an amusement park or maybe rent a bouncy castle. I was researching fun things for kids to do last night and I got lost in all the activities suggested.

Maybe one day Camilla will trust me enough to do something like that. When I enter the gas station, I do have another item I need to check off my list before I leave to see Camilla. I head to the candy aisle, snag a few chocolates, and head to the counter.

Harold doesn’t notice me yet. His back is turned, and he is restocking cigarettes. I pull out my gun and cock it.

The sound has him freezing.

“Ah, good. You notice me,” I say, tossing a five-dollar bill on the counter. I tuck the candy bars in my pocket and sigh. “I don’t want to do this, Harold. I like you. I like this gas station. I like that it’s helped your family get back on their feet. Your son finally got that treatment he needed, right? All beautiful. I love that for you. I do.”

Harold turns around, hands in the air, and he swallows; the prominent Adam’s apple bobs as he stares at me. “Mr. Bianco. I—I have it. Your money. I do.”

“Do you?” I tilt my head to the left. “I feel like you’re lying to me because if you had it, you would have called and told me.”

“I’ve been busy taking my son back and forth to treatments. It’s been hectic. He’s doing really good, Mr. Bianco. Real good.”

“That’s great.” It is. I don’t want anything bad to happen to Harold. I truly like the guy. “You’re a good guy, Harold. I’ve been patient, right? I’ve been understanding too.”

He nods. “You have. I wouldn’t have any of this without you.”

“And I didn’t question you when you said you needed an extension on the payment, right? I shook your hand, and we went on about our day, but now I feel like you’re taking advantage of my kindness. I don’t like that.”

“No, Mr. Bianco. I’m not. Truly. I would never do that to you. I have the money in the safe. I can take you to it.”

“Lead the way.” I keep the gun pointed at him, and a few customers won’t look my way. They pretend they don’t see me.

Smart.

I follow Harold to the back room, and his feet shuffle against the floor, almost as if he is scurrying away from me as quick as he can.

He’s an older man. He’s got gray hair and a slight hunch to his back. His son is disabled and lives with him and his wife full-time.

I might have the gun out and pointed at him, but I’d never use it on Harold. His life is safe with me. I wouldn’t leave a son without a family, especially someone as good as Harold.

It’s my secret to keep. I have a city run. Examples to make. No matter how old the customer is, they can’t break an agreement.

I’ll never tell this to anyone, but I have a soft spot for older people. It’s my secret to take to the grave.

He opens his safe and hands me a small black bag.

“It’s all there. I promise,” he says.

I tuck the gun in my holster and unzip the bag, surprised to see so many stacks of hundreds there. “It looks like this is more than the payment we set up.”

“I was hoping extra would help me get my debt to you paid off.”

I nod, counting every stack. “I’ll see you in six months, Harold. You did well.”

“Thank you, Mr. Bianco. Thank you.” He shakes my hand with both of his, and I don’t know why, but the way his eyes water with emotion, thankful I didn’t kill him, has my chest tightening. I don’t like it.

I pull away. “Six months, Harold. You’ll be seeing me again.”

“Yes, Mr. Bianco. I’ll be ready.”

With a nod, I turn around, walk out of his office, and pass the same customers as before. Without so much as a quick glance at them, I head out the door and pop the trunk of my car to toss the money inside.

The gas station is only down the block from Camilla, so it only takes a few minutes for me to get to her store.

I don’t know why I’m so nervous. For everything else in this world, I’m cold and ruthless, but with her, I’m not that man.

And there’s a small part of me who is afraid she won’t like that man.

As I walk down the sidewalk, I notice Taylor coming out of her bakery, running across the street back to his bookstore, and my fingers itch to pull the gun from its holster. A quick aim and fire. He won’t know what hit him.

It’s tempting, but I think of Camilla, and the wild blaze of fury storming in my chest eases. She wouldn’t forgive me if I killed her friend, but if I could find proof that the last thing he is to her is a friend, then maybe she’d be okay cutting him out of her life.

I stop in front of Cora’s coffee shop and look in the window, fiddling with my hair, so nothing is out of place.

“Whatcha doin’, Luca?” Cora pokes her head out of the shop, and an aromatic breeze of coffee hits me. “You look pretty, if you’re so worried.”

Oh, she has jokes.

“I’m not worried.” I am. I’m very worried. Camilla has armor around her now, and I want to be the guy who is able to disassemble it. Shield by shield, I want her to lower her weapons only so I can raise them for her.

“Camilla is stressed today. Whatever you have planned, just go easy.”

“Can I ask… why she disappeared?”

“That’s her story, Luca. I don’t feel comfortable telling it, but her dad was a real piece of work. Just…be patient. She’s worth it.”

“She’s always been worth it,” I say, hating how much I’ve missed over the years. “Olivia and Oliver’s father, is he in the picture?”

She stares at the ground and hums. “Kind of? Again, something you’d need to talk to her about. I need to go and get the place ready for the next shift.”

Her hurry to get away from me leaves me a little uneasy, but there’s nothing I can do about it now.

I’m not even at the bakery door yet, and I can smell the fresh bread. When I step inside, there are a few people waiting in line, so I take my spot in the back and wait.

“Thank you so much. I hope you have a wonderful day.” Camilla’s voice is kind and happy; even from here, I can tell there’s a smile on her face. The customer leaves with a bag of goodies, and her attention is already on the next. “What can I get you?”

“The chocolate molten lava cupcake, please,” the man says.

Damn, that sounds good.

“Mr. Luca!”

I turn and squat, smiling, when I see two speedy kids running to me.

“Mr. Luca! You came back. You’re back.”

I chuckle at Oliver, staring at him when I notice how similar he looks. He has his mom’s eyes; that has to be it. “I am back. I couldn’t seem to stay away. Your mom’s baking is the best.”

“It is. She’s amazing,” Olivia explains, twisting back and forth so her fluffy skirt fans out around her. She looks cute today. Her hair is in braided pigtails, and her bright blue eyes remind me so much of my own.

“She is amazing, but do you think she will get mad if I gave you guys….” I reach into my pocket and sneak a peek at the counter, where she’s still working hard and very busy. “Candy bars?”

The kids squeal with excitement again.

“No! She won’t care. We ate lunch already too, so we are alloweded,” Olivia explains.

“Alloweded isn’t a word.” I bop her nose with my finger. “It’s allowed.”

“You’re just like Mommy.” Olivia rolls her eyes, and I toss my head back, laughing at how untrue that really is.

I hand over the candy bars, and Oliver throws his arms around my neck to give me a hug. “Thank you, Mr. Luca,” he mumbles in his cute, childish voice, and my heart grows a size, making room for kids who aren’t even mine.

Does that really matter?

“And what do we have here?” Camilla stands next to me, and I straighten to my full height.

Her eyes follow me, her head tilting back as I rise so she can see me.

Something about that seems so powerful and erotic to me. She’s so small in comparison, but she took me so well that one night, I know for a fact she could handle me.

“Just stopping by for the rent check and got the kids a treat. I hope you don’t mind.”

“Depends if they said thank you?” she asks them, lifting a brow

“I did. Olivia didn’t”

“Oliver! You’re a tattletale.”

“No, I’m not!”

“Yes, so!”

“Am not!”

“You guys go in the back and eat the nice treat Luca bought you, and if I hear any more arguing, you’re both going into a timeout, and I’ll be sure to tell Luca not to bring you more treats.”

They both gasp.

“Thank you, Mr. Luca,” Olivia mumbles, getting her act together before running to the back like her mom said.

The bell rings above the door, and an older man walks in, good-looking, and when he sees Camilla, he smiles.

Immediately, I hate him.

I don’t want other men making her smile. That job belongs to me.

“Marco!” she shouts, throwing her arms around his neck, and he picks her up until her feet are off the floor.

My hands curl into fists, not liking how close he is to touching areas of her body that are only meant for me.

“What are you doing here? I thought you finally retired from being a guard?”

“I did. I did. I’m only here to see you and to see how you’re doing.”

“I’m good. I’m great. Do you want anything? It’s on the house.”

“I’d love to. I’m glad to see you doing so well. I was worried about you.”

Her smile falters, and she barely meets my gaze when she shrugs her shoulders. “I’m fine. I’ve always been fine.” She puts together a box full of cupcakes, scones, muffins, and a few slices of fresh bread. “I learned how to be on my own, and if there is one person you can count on in the world, it’s yourself, right?”

Marco nods, but his lips press into a firm line. “You had people—”

“—Can we not talk about that here?” When she looks at me, chewing her lip with nerves, I know she’s hiding something from me.

I dislike not knowing everything about her.

Marco turns to me and then stands in front of Camilla. “Mr. Bianco. No disrespect, but what the hell are you doing here?”

“I own the place.”

“You what?” he snarls, keeping a strong stance in front of Camilla.

Never in my entire life would I hurt Camilla. I take a step forward and hold out my hand. “I have no ill will toward you, Marco. I own this building. She pays me rent. That’s all it is.”

“I remember everything you’ve done,” he sneers, slapping his hand in mine, then closing the space between us. “She’s not my daughter, but I love her like she’s my own. Don’t even think about trying to screw her over for a fortune you’ll never receive.”

“Why do I need that fortune when I have my own?” I lower my tone so no one else can hear me except Marco. “I remember you too, Mr. Delgado. I remember you putting men on their knees and shooting them in the head before they could beg for mercy. Do not try to condemn me for my actions when your actions have matched my own.”

“She’s different,” he says. “She deserves more than what her father did.”

“And I’m trying to give her that.”

He lets go of my hand, but it’s clear he doesn’t trust me.

Smart man. Men like us don’t trust. It would only leave us vulnerable to an enemy.

He turns around and gives Camilla a fake smile, but it’s passable as being real. “I have to go, Camilla. It was so good seeing you. Please, let’s not be strangers.” His eyes cut to me. “Nothing will stop me from seeing you.”

Ah, an unspoken threat. My favorite.

“I’d love to have a weekly lunch with you. Maybe we can plan. Here.” She scribbles on a notepad, and I’m instantly jealous, but I don’t show it. I have to remain calm, collected, and in control of my feelings.

She isn’t allowed to know how much I want her, not yet.

“I’ll call you, and we can set something up.” He takes the bag from her and kisses her cheek. “It was good seeing you.”

“You too,” she whispers, watching him walk out the door. She crosses her arms and pops her hip. “What was that about?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” I take Marco’s spot in front of the counter, only I lean in again. I happen to like this position. I’m able to invade her space and make her feel slightly uncomfortable but give her peace by keeping the counter between us.

It’s important that she feels safe in my presence.

This time, she splays her hands on the counter and leans forward, too, until our noses are almost touching. She smells sweet, as if she dipped herself in sugar and is waiting for me to devour the cupcake she’s been keeping safe for me.

Mmm, I bet she’s still as sweet as she was all those years ago, if not sweeter.

“I won’t give you the check until you tell me what is going on with Marco?”

“You think I care about the rent? It’s you who needs to pay it, not because I’ll make you, but because you feel obligated to prove you can take care of yourself. I don’t need your money, Beautiful Girl.”

“You know me well, it seems.” She dips her hand into her apron and slides the check across the counter. “There’s nothing wrong with me taking care of my family. I don’t want to owe anybody.”

I tuck the check into my pocket and lean more into her space. The ghost of her sharp exhale teases my cheek, and I can smell a hint of coffee on her breath. Now that I’m looking at her, I see dark circles under her eyes.

I take her chin in my hand and turn her head from side to side. “You haven’t been resting well.”

She jerks out of my touch, and the kids scream as they play, which has her jumping from the unexpected sound. Her hand falls to her chest, and she gathers herself. “What I do or don’t do isn’t of your concern, Luca. I’m fine. I have twins. Sometimes that means I don’t sleep well. It’s fine. I’ve been doing this for nearly six years. I can manage.”

“I’m not saying you can’t. I’m just saying, anything I can do to help you, please let me know. You deserve a good night’s sleep, Camilla.”

“Why do you care?” she asks, but she sounds so frustrated and tired.

“You’re not ready for that answer, Beautiful Girl. You’re not ready for that at all.” I take her hand and kiss the top of her knuckles. “I’ll be seeing you tomorrow.”

“Why? You have the rent check.”

“You’re not ready for that answer either.” Placing one last kiss on her hand, I place it gently on the counter, but I don’t remove my fingers from being wrapped around hers just yet.

I do not want to let go yet. The connection between us is burning just as hot as it did on her birthday.

What gives me the smallest amount of hope is that her fingers tighten around mine, and I let go before she can second-guess herself.

I head to the door, and every time I leave her and the kids, it becomes more difficult. It’s an odd feeling, but it’s like I’m meant to be here. I’m not meant to leave. I was never meant to not be with her.

“Luca!”

I look over my shoulder before opening the door, and she’s running behind the counter with a small pink and white bag in her hand that has the store logo on it.

“It’s my favorite cookie I make. Take one for the road.” She stretches her arm out, and I make a point to run my fingers down the top of her hand before taking the bag.

She’s nibbling on her bottom lip like she did on the night we met.

“And I’ll bet it will be my favorite, too, simply because you made it.”

“No, I need an honest review.”

“That is my honest review. Anything you make, Beautiful Girl, anything you touch, it’s my favorite.” Unable to stop myself, I bend down and kiss her forehead, feeling her tense before relaxing from the soft touch.

That’s what my girl needs. She needs a soft touch after having such a hard few years, and I can’t wait to give it to her.

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” I say, deepening my voice, so she understands there is no room for argument.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, Luca.”

A smile tugs my lips as I walk out the door. I’m making progress. It might be small, and it might barely be seen, but it’s progress.

And it’s so much better than nothing at all.