Page 93 of Mafia and Gold Digger

Jaspar’s already there, eyeing up my box of Lucky Charms. “I love Lucky Charms,” he tells me.

I nod. “Me too.”

“We didn’t always have the money to afford them. Em said we had to prioritize our spending. It really sucked. When I’m older, I’m gonna be a made man.” He grabs a bowl and spoon as I put the box of cereal down next to him. “And then I’ll be rich enough to buy Lucky Charms whenever I want them.”

Fuck. That makes me feel even worse about the first time we’d met when I snatched back the cereal he’d stolen from right under my nose. It’s been damn tough for her, being only eighteen and financially responsible for her three siblings and trying to be a mom to them.

And I decide that from this moment on, whenever I go grocery shopping, I’ll let Jaspar come with me. And I’ll always let him buy the biggest box of Lucky Charms the store has.

* * *

I’m waiting to drive Emerald to the meeting, but she insisted that she go upstairs and change her clothes. It hardly matters what she wears to the goddamn meeting, and I know it’s just a delaying tactic on her part. I wait for her in the living room, pacing the floor as I observe the few family photos she’s put up over the fireplace.

I’ve always thought how photos can tell so many stories about people. Emerald’s family appeared happy once upon a time. The kids were all smiling, Emerald’s mom looked happy, and their dad looked just like all other mafia fathers. It kind of reminds me of how my parents look in the very few photos we had together before they were taken from me so abruptly.

And it only proves how photos can be both a beautiful memory and a painful reminder at the same time...

“Okay, I’m ready,” Emerald says as she suddenly appears in the living room. Her eyes trace over my face as she frowns slightly. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah, why?” I clip.

“You just had this strange look on your face. I thought something was wrong.”

I shake my head and move toward the door. Now isn’t the time to dive into my past. The kids are at Jacquetta’s place for the next couple of hours, so I lock up behind us. Even with my men keeping watch over my mansion, my head swivels in all directions as soon as we step out, my senses immediately jumping into high alert. My gaze zeroes in on everything. The windows of the surrounding houses, the faces of anyone driving by, and even the couple of children running up and down the opposite front yard.

She moves past me and heads for the car. “Are you coming or are you going to keep stalking our neighbors?”

I’m glad that she feels safe here, but I’m still not lowering my guard. I stride forward. “Still sticking with the stalker trope, huh?”

She flicks her hair over her shoulder and flashes me a grin. “You make it too easy, Valentino.”

I try to loosen the tension in my shoulders. A tension that’s been there constantly since I found out Carmine put a hit out on Emerald. As long as she’s living with me and I can keep tabs on her, I tell myself that she’ll be fine until we can get this situation under control.

Traffic is unusually light as we make our way across town. Emerald is being a lot more quiet than usual. I can only imagine what’s going through her mind as we get closer to our destination. Her hands are tight in her lap as she wordlessly watches the passing streets through the window. Worry rolls off her in waves, so much so that it almost makes the air inside the car feel suffocating.

“You okay?” I ask, glancing over at her.

“It’s just that I don’t want to feel judged,” she admits after a few moments.

“Everyone there is either the same as you or they’ve been in your shoes. You’ll be fine,” I tell her. “Plus, I’ll be there with you.”

By the time we get there, I’ve noticed that Emerald’s been getting more and more nervous. Her leg has bounced the entire drive to this meeting. It’s driving me crazy, but I keep my mouth shut, knowing this isn’t really high on the list of essential topics right now. Because the most essential thing is actually getting her here and getting her to take this first step.

I don’t know why, but the fact that she’s nervous or anxious at all makes my chest constrict uncomfortably. I rub at it, trying to displace the feeling.

Pulling up, the building is not instilling any confidence in me, but it’s the only group I could find nearby. Two others I tried told me that they had to close down due to their funding being cut. I peer at it from my windshield. The youth center sits in some big square building that’s covered in graffiti on one side and has two broken windows boarded up.

A rough, unamused laugh huffs from her. “This is it?”

“Yep.”

“There’s not much hope for the meeting with a building like this...”

I look over at her.

“Oh, come on, Valentino! Tell me I’m wrong. Look at the place. The sign is falling off, the windows are boarded up, the plaster is literally crumbling on the side. What else am I supposed to think?”

“Don’t judge the group by its building? Could be nice inside.”

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