Page 16 of Of Lies and Shadows

I nod. “I wanted to, but I like sitting here with all the books.”

We sit in silence. I’m aware of the ticking clock and the way the lamp throws soft gold shadows on the walls. A world removed from the one that brought me here.

He rubs the back of his neck. “They asked me to play pirates today.”

I blink. “You?”

“I was supposed to be the treasure.”

A laugh escapes before I can catch it. His mouth twitches like he wants to smile but doesn’t remember how.

“Supposed?”

“I didn’t have the time to play. I wanted to but…” He shrugs.

“Ah,” What can I say? I’m not supposed to know he’s mafia, that his responsibilities toward this world will always come before his family. At least he seems conflicted about it which is far more than what I can say about my own father.

“I don’t know how…” The vulnerability in his voice takes me off guard.

“How to what?”

“Play with them. Be a child.” He gives me a sad smile. “I don’t think I knew even when I was their age.”

“It’s not difficult. Children don’t expect you to be perfect, they just want to care. Don’t tell me you don’t pretend daily.”

“Not much.” He arches an eyebrow. “Tell me, Nanny Alice, are you pretending?”

“Not particularly,” I lie, my voice light, the lie heavier.

He doesn’t call me on it. Just watches me over the rim of his mug, something unreadable flickering behind those dark eyes. If he knows more than he lets on, he keeps it to himself.

The silence that stretches between us is different now, charged but not uncomfortable. Like two people who’ve accidentally found themselves standing in the same place too long and don’t quite know what to do about it.

He shifts back, settling into the couch like the weight of the day is finally winning. “Lucia likes you.”

“I like her too.”

“And Alessio?”

“Even when he’s threatening to drown people,” I tease.

That almost smile comes again. It doesn’t reach his eyes, but it tries. That counts for something.

“I don’t trust easily,” he says suddenly, his voice low. “But I believe what I see. They’re happier with you here.”

I don’t know how to respond. So I don’t. I just sit there, breathing in the quiet and feeling it settle into the cracks I didn’t know were forming.

Eventually, he stands.

“Goodnight, Alice.”

Somehow, having him call me Alice and not Nanny Alice feels intimate, and I can’t help but shiver at the tone of his voice.

The next day,we’re in the sunroom conducting our tenth mission to save the kingdom from the evil kraken when Dante enters the room.

He doesn’t speak right away, just stands near the doorway in his pressed slacks and crisp white shirt, sleeves rolled, tie gone. The light catches the faint shadow of stubble on his jaw and the uncertainty in his eyes—something I never thought I’d see on a man like him.

Lucia sees him first. “Papa!”

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