Page 4 of Mafia Daddy's Girl

"Good." He moves his hands, stepping away from me. "I need to speak to the accountant. Please send him in."

"Of course."

"Emmy?"

"Yes, Sandro?"

"Take the rest of the day off. We're going to have a long week, and I want you well-rested."

"Yes, sir." I don't argue. Somehow, working with Sandro for less than an hour makes me feel like I've been here for twelve. "I'll see you in the morning, then. How do you take your coffee?"

"A double shot of espresso."

Dark and strong. It shouldn't be a surprise. "Yes, sir."

And with that, I exit the office, list in hand. I have a series of calls to make, but I might as well make them in the privacy of my apartment, where no one can see how much the new Boss is making me lose it.

The entire DeLucacrime family is in upheaval after the arrival of Alessandro, but none more so than me. Unfortunately, it's my job to keep cool under pressure, and it's been the hardest work week of my life.

It isn't that Alessandro is hard on me. A mafia boss is always going to have an air of toughness, but Alessandro rules with a cool competence. He's out of his office more so than in it for the first few days while the designer worked on the space, moving out a number of Enzo's old things and molding the space to Alessandro's liking.

Instead, he spends the time visiting the rest of the family and allies, letting everyone know that Alessandro DeLuca isn’t going to be hands-off. He's got his fingers on the pulse of Chicago's underground, and that's where he's going to keep them.

When he is here, though, it's a lesson in patience for me every time. I want to be close to him, to give him the opportunity to touch me again like he did that first day, but it never pans out. His smiles are disarming, his voice like rich caramel, but I never have him close long enough to really revel in it.

Instead, I put my efforts into what I'm best at—being invisible. When Alessandro has meetings with his underlings, I'm athis side, head down, taking notes. Later, I'll pass throughBellissimodownstairs, taking my lunch in a small corner booth and listening to the chatter around me. No one paid me a second thought in years, and Alessandro's arrival hasn't changed that. I get the feeling that most of the members of our little organization think that I'm dim, and it benefits me to let them keep thinking that way.

Little mousy Emmy. Always underfoot, but rarely noticed. It’s perfect.

Alessandro's arrival was obviously the talk of the town, but there is one subject that still dominates above all others at the moment—who killed Enzo DeLuca? Thinking about my old boss makes my heart ache, and I'm as desperate as anyone to know who the killer was. But no matter how much eavesdropping I manage to do, the answer never becomes any clearer for me.

Everyone assumes it was a hit from a rival family. But something about it just doesn't sit right with me. The murder was clean, with no sign of a struggle. It made me think that whoever killed Enzo was someone he trusted. No one else would have been able to get so close. The previous Boss might have been old, but he was still tough as nails and always armed. When he was shot, his favorite revolver, inlaid with gold filament, was still in its holster, untouched.

I miss Enzo. Of course I do. But there's an electricity in the air now that Alessandro has arrived, a feeling that the entire organization is turning over a new leaf and modernizing in a way Enzo would have never been capable of. I'm not exactly proud to be a daughter of the mob, but it's all I've ever known, and I can't help but be excited for the change. Progress benefits us all.

It's almost eleven o'clock at night, and I'm exhausted. Today's been a rough one. Marco's been a pain in my ass all morning, and the last meeting we attended was an hour-long fight between Sandro and a local bookie. The bookie lost, but Alessandro still spent most of the day stewing.

I've just finished putting the files away when the office door opens and Alessandro stalks in. He's wearing a three-piece suit, and his tie is already loosened.

"Ms. Moretti." He nods, his voice gruff. "Please tell me that we're fucking done for the day."

"Your evening is clear," I tell him. "Unless there's something that needs to be added, your schedule is clear until nine o'clock tomorrow."

Alessandro nods, his eyes fixed on me. I'm used to his penetrating stare, but tonight it's more intense than usual, and I shift, suddenly uncomfortable. "You look tired."

I try not to flinch at the observation. "I feel it, too. Long day."

"Yeah, no kidding. Fuck, I need a drink. Want to come join me?"

I should say no. It's the responsible thing to do. Alessandro is respected and feared now more than almost any other man in the city, and he's asking me to get a drink after work like we're at some normal office. It's a bad idea, but a really tempting one.

"I'm not much of a drinker."

"Come on, Emilia. I've been stuck inside with my own thoughts all day. I could use the company."

The truth is that I've wanted a chance to talk with him alone ever since he showed up. Something about the way he watches mesends a thrill through my veins, and even though I know that it's wrong, that I should resist the urge, I want to know more about him.

So against my better judgment, I nod. "Okay. Yeah, I could go for a drink."

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