Page 33 of Mafia Don's Twisted Proposal
“I was born into it,” I say, forcing my muscles to relax. “My father was Don before me, and my son will follow in my footsteps.”
“Luca will be Don one day?”
“No. My oldest son, Dario.”
“How many children do you have?”
“Just the two boys.” I tell her about my arranged marriage to Carlita, her tragic death when Luca was still a baby and Dario barely two.
“So you raised them alone?” she asks.
“I hired nannies to help, but yes. I’ve been a single father for a long time.”
“You must really love them.”
“Of course.”
She’s lying with her arms folded on my chest now, chin resting on her hands. She looks completely at ease, and I want that. I need her to feel like she belongs here as strongly as I know she does.
“Your turn,” I say. “How did you end up as a secretary at a real estate company?”
She shrugs. “Answered an ad, sent my resume, got hired after a short interview. Nothing special. I don’t get any sense of purpose from my job. It just funds the things I actually enjoy.”
“No career goals?”
She studies me for a moment, as if checking whether I’m judging her. I’m not, I just want to know everything.
“Not really. I know that’s unusual. Everyone else seems to have ambition, jobs that fulfill them, but I’ve always just taken whatever came along to pay bills and found fulfillment outside of work.”
I already know the facts, my research revealed she never went to college, never held a job longer than a couple years. But hearing her explain it herself gives those dry facts meaning. As I continue asking questions about things I technically already know, I get a window into how she thinks, how she feels about her life.
The more I learn, the deeper my feelings for her grow.
She tells me how different she feels from her family, especially since her sisters both became lawyers like their father. I learn about her love of horror movies and spicy food, that her feet get cold at night. Little things that weren’t in any PI file or observable during my surveillance.
By the time her eyelids grow heavy, I feel closer to her than I have to anyone in years. She eventually falls asleep on my chest, and I wait until I’m certain she’s completely out before carefully shifting her onto a pillow and slipping from the room.
I pull on sweats and head downstairs before calling Santino.
“Hello?” He answers on the first ring.
“Mia’s back,” I say, heading into the kitchen and pulling a covered dish from the refrigerator—baked ziti Rose made earlier.
“She’s unharmed?”
“Yeah. She’s good, and she’s agreed to stay.”
Silence stretches between us.
“When are you contacting Miguel Cardenas? The sooner we form an alliance, the better.”
“I know.” I glance toward the stairs, making sure Mia isn’t coming down. “But I likely can’t form an alliance without her cooperation.”
“So what’s the plan?”
“She needs to fall for me. She has to be on my side, or there’s no hope of her convincing Miguel to help us.”
“But she doesn’t even know about her connection to him, right?”
