Page 406 of Sinfully Savage Mafia

I try to pull open one of the drawers.

Sonofabitch!

Locked.

Every single one of them.

Nothing incriminating at all that I can see.

But I’ll bet behind those locks, there’s a very different story waiting to be told.

And I desperately need to read it!

I back away from the desk and meander around the room, checking out books and photos and assorted knick-knacks. There’s some signed Yankee memorabilia scattered around the place, mixed in with some signed jerseys and pictures of the Italian national football team. There’s even a soccer ball stashed in a corner. I smile down at Aisling. “Was Daddy hoping for a boy?” I murmur.

Then my eyes fall on the family photos.

Interestingly, there aren’t any professional wedding photos of Matteo and Heaven. Knowing what I do of Heaven and her taste so far, I’d have expected at least one. Instead, I just see what looks to be a selfie at a restaurant. It’s the two of them, a little flushed but smiling big for the camera. Matteo’s arm is outstretched, so I can tell he took it himself.

A happy and private moment for the newlywed couple.

But no other photos posing in front of fancy cars with lots of flowers and bridesmaids and champagne.

I guess they decided to eliminate the bullshit.

That photo is real, not staged.

The corners of my lips lift.

It’s exactly what I would want, not that pure happiness is something I’ve come to expect in my life. In fact, it’s something that keeps getting yanked away, so I think it’s best not to even bother chasing it.

I walk over to another bookshelf and let out a low chuckle. They clearly didn’t go the same route with Aisling. She’s only five months old, and by the looks of it, has had more photo shoots than a lot of models.

They clearly adore her and each other.

I feel a sharp pang in my chest.

Perfect little family.

I want to hate them. I have to hate them.

But I can’t fight the emotions bubbling in my chest when I watch Heaven with Aisling and Matteo, when I see the light in Matteo’s eyes as he looks at his wife and plays with his daughter.

I’ve been here for less than a day with no real objective in sight other than focus on the hate.

But the human in me is fighting really hard against my vicious alter ego and again, the thought crosses my mind about the twinge of remorse I always feel when I pull a trigger…no matter what, no matter who.

It always takes me a second to block out the fact that there may be some redeeming quality that I’m about to snuff out.

I’ve seen a lot of redeeming qualities today.

And have gotten zero confirmation of the non-redeeming ones.

Motherfucker!

I hate that I’m waffling like this, that I’m concerned about this baby, that I’m drowning in pent-up desire for Dante, that I actually like Heaven and Matteo.

I was supposed to come here protected by a wall of pain and anger, and it’s just crumbling like a stale cookie around me?

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