Page 51 of Creed

She stands on her tiptoes and kisses me. “I’ll start dinner.”

“No. You work on your schoolwork; I’ll take care of dinner.”

“Mr. Santoro,” she walks backward from me, exaggeratedly swaying her curvy hips, “you’re going to turn me into a spoiled princess.”

“I’ll live my life spoiling you every day and worshipping you as a queen, angel,” I vow.

Her shock morphs into a smile of happiness, then she shyly turns away and goes down the hall. I answer my phone and step into my office, not bothering to close the door. “How are you,Papá?”

I put him on speakerphone, pulling out a contract that my COO sent me for a new tenant in one of our buildings.

“I’ve had better days,figlio.”

I straighten up, hearing the strain in his voice. His coughing follows. The mucus buildup in his lungs from his bronchiectasis is worsening. The doctors are trying every treatment they can, but he still isn’t responding, and he isn’t a candidate for surgery. It’s only a matter of time.

“You still have the lung infection?” I guess. “It’s getting worse?”

“Yes, they switched me to IV antibiotics now.”

“Do you need me to come home?”

“No, no. Your work in San Diego is important. Your old man lying in bed hooked up to an IV isn’t what you need to see, and there’s not much you can do,” he says gruffly. “There’s been a meeting for the ‘Ndrangheta called, though. I wanted to double-check about the plane.”

I flick a look at the open door.

“Massimo is going in my place,” he continues. “I really need to transfer power to him and make him Don soon.”

I glance again at the open door and curse myself for putting the call on the speaker; however, he rarely mentions any mafia-related business when speaking with me. The hallway is silent, though. I pick up my phone and take it off speaker, just in case.

“You know Massimo will fight you, tooth and nail,Papá.”

It’s not that Massimo will resist becoming Don; he’s been groomed his entire life for the position, and he passed the trails our father put him through. However, he’ll never want to take it over while our father still breathes. That would be disrespectful in Massimo’s mind and signal the inevitable end we all know is coming but refuse to accept or envision life without Tommaso Santoro.

"I know he'll fight me, but it's time." He pauses as he coughs and wheezes, slowly catching his breath again. “Regardless, Massimo will be leaving for Catanzaro on Tuesday afternoon.”

“I’m home early Monday. The crew will have over twenty-four hours between flights, which will be fine. Vito is working withZioMarco for security?”

“Si.”

“Do you need anything from me? I can come and stay at the house.”

“Your mother would love that." He laughs. "But be prepared for a parade of potential wives if you do.”

The alarm for my private elevator starts ringing, and I frown. That would go off if someone tried to come up without authorization.

Concerned for Sophie, even though I know she’s safe and secure with me in the penthouse, I leave my office to go to her, opening the app on my phone to view the security cameras. No one is inside the elevator or trying to access it from the lobby or the parking garage.

No one is trying to get up here…

However, the alarm will ring if someone tries to getoutwithout the code, too.

A sinking feeling hits my gut, and I sprint down the hallway toward the foyer and elevator.

Sophie is at the elevator doors, trying to punch in a code to disable the lock; however, I haven’t shared it with her yet. Thank fuck.

When she spins around to stare at me with wide eyes filled with fear and pain, the floor feels like it has opened up to form a giant chasm between us.

She overheard the part of the conversation on the speakerphone.

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