Secret Babies for the Italian Mafia Boss: Chapter 17
Secret Babies for the Italian Mafia Boss: A Dark Mafia Secret Baby Romance (Possessive Mafia Kings Book 5)
I didnât think life could get any better than it has over the last six weeks. Luca has grown so close with the kids, building a bond only children and their dad can have. Itâs made me so happy. We havenât told Olivia and Oliver the truth about Luca being their father. I donât know what Iâm waiting on. I think Iâm waiting for something bad to happen. Iâm afraid if I tell them, they will be so happy, and then something will go wrong.
Maybe Luca will change his mind, and then Iâll be left all alone again. It isnât okay to live like that. It isnât fair to Luca. I should be better than that to him. He deserves to have the kids know the truth, but how do I get past this fear of being left behind again?
The kids wouldnât be the only ones devastated if Luca decided not to have anything to do with us. I canât tell if my instincts are telling me to run or to take a chance. Everything is questionable because I did the one thing I told myself I wouldnât do.
I fell in love with him.
I love Luca.
And thatâs what makes this so much harder. How do I know he will stick around for the long haul? What if the novelty of the family dynamic becomes boring to him?
âAre you ready to see your new bakery?â Lucaâs voice pulls me out of my deep thoughts of what-ifs and fear.
I turn my head to him and lift my brows. âWhat?â
âAre you okay?â He steps into my space. âYouâve been in your head all morning.â
âIâm just wondering if maybe we should tell the kids that youâre their father. We should do it.â
The grin taking over his face is so wide it reaches his eyes. He wraps his arms around me and squeezes me tight until I canât breathe.
âI canâtâ¦.â I gasp. âBreathe.â
âSorry. Iâm sorry. Iâm excited. Iâm happy. I want that too. There might have been a few times when I almost slipped, but I didnât. I wanted to talk to you about it, but I didnât want to seem presumptuous.â
âPresumptuous? Luca, they are your children. Youâre allowed to be.â
âWell, they are more yours than they are mine right now.â
I open my mouth to argue, but he places a finger over my lips.
âI mean, itâs only been you three for five years. Your relationship with them is solid. Iâm new, Iâm building a relationship with them, and I donât want it to seem like I deserve the âDadâ title out of the gate. I havenât earned it.â
âYouâve earned it.â Iâm appalled he would think that. âYouâve been better to us than anyone has in a long time. Youâre a father, Luca. You have been a father. Youâve been amazing. I want them to know. Okay?â
âOkay.â He leans in and presses his forehead against mine.
The three little words are on the tip of my tongue, but I canât seem to speak them. I donât rush it, I decide. The time will come. It doesnât have to be right now.
âLetâs go see your new bakery.â He opens the front door, and a new Range Rover sits in the driveway with big red bow on it.
âLucaâ¦â I say his name with wariness. âWhat is that? What is that!â I scream in excitement as I run to the sparkling black Range Rover.
My dream car.
âItâs the beginning of a new life,â he says, tossing me the keys. âYou want to drive?â
I nearly choke and flatten my palm against the hood. âAre you kidding?â I open the driverâs side door so fast and hop in. âOh my God, Luca. Itâs gorgeous.â The leather seats are red, and thereâs a B stitched in the middle of the seat and a golden B plate in the middle of the steering wheel.
âB?â
âBianco,â he says as he buckles himself in. âBecause you will be one day, very soon.â
Something about those words springs hope.
âThis car is yours, Camilla. All yours,â he informs. He presses the button to start it and then taps on the screen in the middle of the dash. âLetâs go to your bakery.â
âThe bow.â I point.
âDamn it.â
I snicker when he climbs out and yanks the ribbon off, tossing it in the driveway.
âSomeone will clean it up,â he mumbles, getting back into the car.
When he buckles himself up, I press the gas and reach over to grab his hand. I canât believe he did this for me.
âThank you. I love how smooth it drives. I canât thank you enough.â
âConsider it back pay for child support,â he teases, and I slap his arm.
âThatâs not funny.â
âI know. I didnât mean for it to sound that cruel,â he barks a laugh and kisses the top of my hand.
When we get through the gate, I take a left, driving to the bakery in my brand-new car. While we drive, I press a bunch of random buttons, flipping on the heated seats.
âOh, butt warmers. I love those.â
âI have two perfectly fine butt warmers right here.â He lifts his hands in the air, and I laugh.
âYou did not just say that.â Luca is so different when he isnât in business mode all the time. I know he can be intense and scary, but over these last six weeks, he has been softer and gentle.
Heâs adapted, but it doesnât mean he doesnât do his job.
Just the other night, he came home with bloody knuckles, but he wouldnât tell me what happened, and I didnât ask. Why bother? Iâve been down this road before with my father. Anything they do that requires them to get blood on their hands means what they did was dangerous and illegal. The less I know, the better.
I took care of his wounds and went on with our night as if it didnât happen.
And then he fucked me like he loved me but wished he hated me, and I had the best nightâs sleep I ever had.
When I pull into a parking spot, I notice Cora outside talking to the police officer while a paramedic wraps her arm.
âOh, my God.â I rush out of the car, not bothering to shut the door. âCora!â I slither my way through a few people, stepping on broken glass. I look up at her coffee shop and notice itâs vandalized. The windows are shattered, the tables and chairs are broken, and the cushions to the booths are ripped.
I finally get my feet moving under me and notice the windows to my bakery are shattered too, but the inside looks fine.
I donât care about any of that. I only want to get to Cora.
A paramedic is holding gauze to her face, and the white of it is turning red.
âShe definitely has a possible concussion. We need to take you to the hospital, maâam.â
âCora, what happened? Are you okay?â I take her hand and gasp in horror when he pulls the gauze away from her head. Thereâs a giant cut. Itâs red and takes up the majority of the left side of her face. Her left eye is turning a shade of purple, and thereâs a fresh wrap on her arm.
âYeah, I donât know what happened,â she mumbles, exhausted, and thereâs a slight slur to her words. âI wasâ¦just atâ¦work,â she speaks slowly, leaning her weight against the side of the ambulance. âThen the windows shattered, and my face caught one of theâ¦bricks that were thrown to break the glass.â
I donât like how she has to pause when she speaks.
âWe need to take her to the hospital. Thatâs where sheâll be if you need to see her.â
âOkay. Cora, Iâm going to be right there, okay? Iâll be right behind you.â
âOkay.â She squeezes my hand before they strap her to the gurney to prepare for transport. âIâm so tired.â
âYou need to keep your eyes open, okay? Donât close them. No matter what,â I tell her just before the doors shut.
âSheâll be okay. I know the best doctor at the hospital. Iâll call him and make sure he is the one who treats her.â Luca wraps me against his side and kisses my temple.
âThank you.â I already feel better knowing Luca will make sure she gets the best treatment possible.
âCamilla!â
I turn around to see Taylor running across the street. Itâs felt like forever since I have seen him, but all my time has been spent with Luca and the kids.
âTaylor, hey,â I greet him in a side hug, but Luca doesnât let go of my hand. âDid you see what happened?â
âNo, I opened the store late because I had to go check on my mom this morning. What the hell? Is Cora okay? Who would do this?â he asks, taking in the scene of destruction.
âI donât know, but I plan to find out.â Lucaâs cold blue eyes cut to Taylor. âWhoever it was, better make sure I donât find them because no one fucks with family.â
âYou and Cora are related?â Taylor questions, kicking a piece of glass out from under his shoe.
âNo, but weâre family because she is Camillaâs best friend, and whoever fucks with anyone Camilla cares about gets to deal with me.â
âI wouldnât want to be on your bad side. Rumor has it they never find the bodies,â Taylor laughs it off, but Luca remains a statue.
âThose arenât rumors.â
âOookay.â Taylor grabs me by the arm and redirects me to the corner of the bakery, away from Luca.
Luca doesnât take his eyes off me. He watches me like a hawk.
âDoes that not bother you? How much he watches you?â
I shake my head. âNo. It actually makes me feel safe, something I havenât felt in a while.â I cross my eyes and readjust my feet, and more glass crunches under my boots.
At this rate, my bakery will never be up and running again. I already miss baking.
âAnyway, whatâs going on? If you take too long, Luca will have questions soon.â
Taylor takes a step closer, and I take one back, turning my head to look at Luca, who has shortened the distance between us.
âDo you think this has anything to do with the fortune?â
âWhy are you asking? Thatâs pretty specific, Taylor.â
âIâm asking because Iâm worried about you and Cora, your kids. My shop. I think someone broke into my store too. They took something that was very important to me. And I think itâs whoever wants your fortune, so why donât you just give it to them? If you donât want it.â
âExcuse me?â
âYou donât want it, Camilla. There are others that do. Just give it up already.â
I narrow my eyes at him and uncross my arms, wondering why he is so adamant about the money. âIt isnât that I donât want it. Itâs complicated. With all the questions, Iâm starting to think you want it for yourself.â
He jerks back as if I slapped him. âWhat? How could you think that? No. I donât care about the money, Camilla. Iâm worried about what chaos it will bring to the street. Your shop. Cora.â He spread his arm out in the direction the ambulance went. âCora is hurt because of this. I mean, how selfish can you really be to continue to let this happen?â
I donât know what gets into me, but I slap him across the face. âHow dare you,â I hiss at him, pointing a finger into his chest. His cheek became red, and his head is still turned, shocked that I slapped him. âYou donât get to call me selfish. I have given everything of myself to the people that need me. You donât get to call me selfish.â I poked him in the chest again. âThat money is the last thing from my father, and I might still be angry at him, but itâs what he left me. Me. So for this one time, this one moment, Iâm allowed to be selfish. That fortune belongs to no one but me. No one else, so if someone wants to pick a fight, then let them fight.â
âAnd youâre willing to put your friends in harmâs way?â
âIâm not responsible for the actions of someone else.â I begin to walk away, and Taylor grabs me.
âIâm sorry. Okay? Iâm so sorry. Iâve been worried and stressed out. Work has been slow, and Iâve been crunching numbers. Itâs been hard, okay? I didnât mean to take it out on you. Iâm sorry.â
âI need some time, Taylor. I feel guilty enough as is, and I donât need someone who I thought was my friend to make it worse.â Luca wraps his arms around my shoulder and guides me to the Range Rover.
âLet me see the keys.â He holds out his palm, and I donât argue with him. I drop the keys in his hand, and he opens the passenger side for me to get in.
I buckle in and stare at the red blooming across my palm. I canât believe I did that. Iâve never hit a person in my entire life, but Taylor was pushing all the wrong buttons. He was too pushy, too adamant about the fortune, and maybe I got so mad because I thought he was right. Maybe I am selfish. I canât keep Cora at risk.
âYou know heâs wrong, right? Youâre the least selfish person I know.â Lucaâs palm engulfs mine, and he brings it to his lips to kiss the burning flesh.
âI donât know if he is wrong,â I exhale, leaning my head back against the seat. âI canât believe I hit him.â
âIt was sexy. Iâve wanted to hit that asshole ever since I met him.â
âLuca,â I warn him.
âWhat? I do this for a living, Beautiful Girl. Something about that guy doesnât sit right with me.â Luca puts the car in drive and then pats his pockets, cursing.
âWhat is it?â
âI left my wallet at home. How about I drop you off at the hospital? Iâll be right behind you.â
âNo. I donât want to be alone. It will only take a few minutes. I bet the doctors wonât let us see her right now.â
âOkay. I just want you to know heâs wrong. And Iâm sorry about the bakery. We will get it fixed.â
âMaybe we shouldnât.â I press my forehead against the window and take in the destruction of the coffee shop and bakery as we make a U-turn to go home.
âWhy would you say that? You love baking.â
âNot if it means people are getting hurt. Even Taylor is being affected by it.â
âHow the hell isâ¦.â Luca pinches the bridge of his nose. âHow is he being affected?â
âHe said something important was stolen from his shop, and heâs really upset about it.â
Lucaâs hand tightens on the steering wheel. âDonât listen to him. Heâs wrong. And his store hasnât been vandalized. Itâs yours that is the target, and someone knows about Cora being your friend too.â
Heâs not telling me something. âDo you know who it is?â
âNo, but I really do not like Taylor, and I wouldnât be surprised if he had something to do with it. For me, can you stay clear of him until I figure it out?â
We pull into the driveway of the estate, and the gates open for us. âI donât think that will be a problem, considering how I slapped him.â
âGood. Better than the barrel of my gun.â
âLuca!â
âIâm just saying.â
We climb out of the car and walk to the front door. Luca scans his finger, and the door opens for us.
âI canât remember where I left it. Can you look down here, and Iâll look upstairs?â
âNo problem.â I slap his ass and head into his office while he climbs upstairs to check the bedroom.
His office is clean and organized; nothing is out of place. The silver mac book is open, but the screen is black, and there is a calendar with handwritten notes on it.
Huh. I guess he likes to keep things old school. Most people use the calendar on their phones. I get on my hands and knees, checking the floor in case he dropped it.
Nothing.
âDamn it,â I mumble, getting back to my feet, then begin to dig through the drawers, which feels really invasive.
But then I come across a file with my name on it, and I flick my gaze to the door to make sure he isnât there. My stomach turns for a moment, as it has for the past week, but then it passes. Iâve chalked it up to stress or when something makes me feel other than calm, but I know thatâs not it. I always feel like this when Iâm pregnant. Iâm not sure without taking a test.
Seeing this file, Iâm wondering if itâs a good thing I havenât told the kids about him.
I grab it and take a deep breath, so I donât puke all over his desk, then open it.
Itâs only a few pieces of paper stapled together. I let out a relieved chuckle when I see itâs the paperwork for the building he bought from my dad.
âAnything?â he shouts from upstairs.
âNo, sorry. Nothing down here.â I read the agreement and flip the page, then hold my breath when I see a clause in the agreement.
Luca Bianco is promised Camilla Thompsonâs hand in marriage after the death of her fatherâ¦
My heart slams against my chest, and everything around me sways. I stumble on my feet and sit down in the leather chair.
He canât know I saw it, but maybe Luca is with me for all the wrong reasons too. Why would he do this without me knowing unless he didnât want the fortune?
I close the file and tuck it where I found it.
âReady to go?â he stands in the doorway, lifting his wallet in the air. âIt was on the floor in the closet.â
âYou have to be better at keeping track of that thing. Itâs heavy,â I wink, thinking about the cards he has that have an unlimited amount of money on them it.
âAre you okay? You look pale.â He checks my temperature by placing his hand on my forehead, and now I canât tell if he cares or not. My eyes water from the thought because Iâve fallen in love with him.
âIâm okay. I think Iâm just really worried about Cora.â
âWell, letâs go see her and put your mind at ease.â
Thatâs the last thing that will happen. Being at ease is something Iâm not good at. Ease is something that does not come naturally.
I really thought I had finally found it with Luca, but who am I kidding?
The past canât be reborn. History is history for a reason.
No, history is repeating itself, and that canât happen.
I wonât allow it.