Page 33 of Surprise Twins for the Mafia Prince
“I started to draw around the time I started working for my father. All members start at the bottom and work their way up, even an Andretti. So I was a soldier, out on the streets and getting my hands dirty. Even growing up knowing what my family was involved in, it was a lot to deal with when I started out. Drawing the things I saw and experienced...it helped to settle my mind.”
“And now?”
I shrug, looking at another painting. This one couldn’t be more different. It’s a red covered bridge over a creek on a bright sunny day. It’s technically proficient, but it doesn’t speak to me like the bloody battlefield. I’m not sure what that says about me.
“Now, I still mostly draw dark stuff, but the violence in my daily life doesn’t bother me anymore.”
Paige doesn’t ask more questions, turning her attention back to the paintings. I’m feeling stripped bare after sharing something so personal, and a small part of me—the part damaged so many years ago by the sneers and rejection that shaped me—expected her to mock my weakness. She could ridicule how I needed an outlet when I first started with the family, or the almost therapeutic nature of my sketching. I learned a long time ago that there are people in this world who will use any crack in your armor to hurt you, whether it’s a speech impediment or a sign of sensitivity.
But she doesn’t do that. Instead, she reaches out and takes my hand, intertwining our fingers.
I squeeze her hand, and she offers me a small smile, one that reaches her eyes. Her warmth touches something frozen inside me, and this suddenly feels like a date. Like we’re normal people with normal lives.
“You know, we’re doing all of this backwards.”
“What do you mean?” she asks.
“You’re already pregnant and living with me, but this is our first date.”
Her laugh somehow makes me feel lighter, and I get a stronger rush of the emotion that only she seems able to evoke—a heady combination of affection and comfort that I can’t put a name to.
“Is it?”
I shrug. “Sure. Why not?”
“Don’t dates usually involve a meal?”
I smile. “Is that your way of saying you’re hungry?”
“I am eating for two.”
“Well, when you put it that way...” I pull her out of the tent and toward the west side of the park where I saw a food truck when I arrived. “You like tacos?”
Her eyes light up. “You’re about to find out.”
Her appetite is healthy, and I’m glad her morning sickness is limited to early in the day. I’ve been reading about pregnancy and know that some women are nauseous all day long.
The sun has set, and the temperature has dropped enough for there to be a chill in the air. Once I’ve bought ten tacos, we head to the car where my driver is waiting. I tell him to take the long way back to the apartment, so the two of us sit in the back seat, eating our dinner and chatting as the bright city lights pass by the windows. She makes me laugh more than once as she comments on some of the ridiculous tourist traps the city has to offer.
It’s a simple end to our impromptu first date, but I can’t remember the last time I felt this...content. I don’t know how she feels about it, but I’m going to make damn sure we do this again. I’ll make Paige enjoy spending time with me.
15
PAIGE
“I’mpositive,”I say, forcing a smile so fake it might as well be slapped on with clown makeup. The phone feels slippery in my sweaty palm. “I’m totally fine. Totally, one-hundred-percent fine.”
I’m absolutely not fine.
The living room of Dario’s luxurious Vegas penthouse stretches around me like a glossy magazine spread. All sleek angles and designer furniture that probably costs more than my entire life’s savings. Not that those savings amount to much. It’s been a week since I crashed into the orbit of the Andretti crime family, and I’m lying through my teeth to my best friend.
“I don’t know, Paige...” Rosa’s voice crackles through the speaker, drenched in suspicion. “It’s weird. It’s not like you to up and leave the state with no warning. You usually overthink everything.”
“No, I don’t,” I protest weakly, but we both know it’s bullshit. I’m the girl with spreadsheets for grocery shopping and color-coded reminders for dental appointments. Spontaneity has never beenmy strong suit. Coming to Vegas with Rosa two months ago had been my version of living dangerously—and look where that got me. Knocked up and living with a mobster.
Stellar life choices, Paige. Really killing it.
“I don’t want you to worry,” I continue, my voice a pitch too high. “I’m safe and having a great time.”
