Page 22 of Mafia Daddy's Girl

He shakes his head.

"Good, neither do I. Go home. If Sandro has an issue with it, I'll take the blame."

Nico seems to hesitate for another moment before he nods, and I know I've won. "If you need anything?—"

"You'll be the first one I call," I tell him.

He nods and turns back down the stairs, leaving me alone. I take a deep breath, letting myself into my apartment and locking the doors behind me. I have no idea how Sandro is going to react to this, but I know it needs to be done. I spend the next two hours cleaning my already-spotless apartment, and when there's a knock at my door, I'm elbow deep in soapy dishwater.

I turn off the water, drying my hands as I move to the door. When I open it, I'm not surprised to see Sandro there. He looks apoplectic, which doesn't surprise me, either. My heart races like a hummingbird, but I coolly cross my arms and lean against the door frame.

"What the hell are you doing here, Emmy?"

I wave towards the sink. "Dishes."

"Don't be smart with me,tesoro. I just got in, and imagine my surprise when the driver I sent to pick you up and bring you home three hours ago was still waiting out front. Why are you here?"

"I live here."

He stares at me for a long moment. "You've spent the past week in my bed, and now you're living here again?"

"You've been different," I say softly. "I don't want to be a burden."

He curses, running a hand through his hair. "You could never be a burden, Emilia. You're mine, and I will keep you safe."

"What about when you don't have time for me?" I ask, my voice barely audible. "I don't want to be someone you just take care of when you're not too busy running the family."

He pulls me to him, tucking my head under his chin. "You're more than that, Emmy. You always have been. I didn't mean to push you away, but with everything that happened..." He trails off, shaking his head.

"It's okay," I murmur, but he cuts me off.

"No. It isn't. You deserve better." He lifts my chin with his thumb and forefinger, forcing me to look into his eyes. "You deserve the world, and I'm going to give it to you."

I planned on being harsher, more stubborn, but this man just makes me melt. The scent of his expensive cologne, the warmth of his touch, all work together to undo me.

Except when I stand on my tiptoes, expecting a long, lingering kiss, Sandro instead just gives me a quick peck before pulling back. I sink back to the flats of my feet, confused. "What...?"

"Shut the door and lock it, Emmy. I'll be back for you soon. Dress nice for me."

And without another word, he's gone, his heavy footsteps audible on the concrete stairs that lead back to Bellissimo.I stand in the doorway, blinking a few times, before shutting it and locking it like I've been told.

Well, that didn't go quite how I expected. I guess I need to get dressed.

When Sandro returnsninety minutes later, I've dressed for dinner, but his air of seriousness when I answer the door tells me that we're not going somewhere to eat.

No, this is Alessandro DeLuca, Boss of the DeLuca family, not my Sandro. I love both versions of him, but it's still a surprise?—

Wait, what? I love him? The realization is so startling that I stand in the open doorway, speechless until Alessandro reaches out to touch my shoulder. "Emmy?"

"Fine! I'm fine!” I chirp, overly bright. “Why do you ask?"

Amusement filters through his seriousness. "I didn't. Are you ready?"

I shake my head, filing away the thought of loving the most dangerous man in Chicago for later, and look down at the black fitted dress I've put on. It's nothing I would wear to work, but hopefully it will work for whatever Alessandro has planned. "Do I look okay? I still have no idea where you're taking me."

"You look perfect, tesoro. Don't bother with the coat, we're just going to the meeting room upstairs."

"Oh. Well, okay." I don't bother to hide my confusion, but I've also learned that if Sandro doesn't want to share, he isn't going to, and there's no point in pushing.

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