Page 84 of Bastard Prince
That girl was gonna have to toughen up.
When everyone was in place, including myself, Enzo slowly approached the door and checked the peephole.
“Oh, shit,” he breathed, casting a panicked look back at Rocco. “DEFCON One, Rock.”
“What—?” But before I could ask what they meant, Enzo opened the door and there stood a tall, gorgeous, middle-aged brunette, woman with a deep tan and and a brilliant smile.
“Surprise!” she squealed, throwing her arms out to the side.
“Hey, ma,” Enzo said, looking at me in apology.
Ma?
Dead. He was so dead. I was literally going to murder my husband.
“What are you doing back so soon?” Enzo folded her into a hug, pressing a kiss to her cheek before leading her in and closing the door.
“Two months on a cruise ship is too long, Enzo,” she said, her hands moving almost as fast as her words. “After the sixth week, I was tired of seeing the same faces over and over.” She moved quickly, dropping her bag on the table near the door and making her way down the hall. “So, when we docked in Acapulco, I said, to heck with it. I’m going home to see my baby boy.”
I choked out a laugh, the shock of anyone referring to my big growly husband as a ‘baby boy’ outweighing my desire to stay unnoticed, and she turned to stare at me quizzically, leaving me feeling like a deer in the headlights. But before she could speak, Rocco scooped her up, spinning her around several times while she swatted him repeatedly.
“Mama Lita!” Placing her on the floor, Rocco wiggled like an eager puppy. “What’d you bring me?”
“What makes you think I brought you anything?” she said with a sly smile.
“Because I’m your favorite.”
“Well, that’s true.”
“Hey,” Enzo barked. “Watch it.”
They were all laughing when I cleared my throat.
Rocco took a step back, muttering a curse under his breath as he joined the others all gawking from the living room.
“Ah, Ma. There’s someone I’d like you to meet.” Enzo held out his hand and I took it, letting him pull me close. Lita pursed her lips, and I smiled, trying to make a good first impression, even though I was still in my apron and probably had stuffing in my hair.
I wasseriouslygoing to murder my husband.
“Hello,” I said, earning me an arched eyebrow.
“Ma, this is Francesca.” Enzo paused, seemingly unable to continue, and I elbowed him in the ribs. He jolted a bit, but then cleared his throat and said, “My wife.”
You could feel the tension in the air, everyone around us waiting with bated breath as Lita scrutinized me, her assessing gaze making it feel like she was looking right through me.
After a moment, she turned to Enzo. “I assume your father had something to do with this?”
“Yes,” Enzo said simply, as if that explained everything.
“And things are good?” she asked the both of us, and I smiled.
“Yes, ma’am. Very good.” Enzo pressed a kiss to the top of my head and discretely squeezed my ass. But not as discreetly as he may have thought, because his mother chuckled and shook her head.
“You ain’t mad?” Enzo asked, and I thought it was cute that he was looking for his mother’s approval.
“I learned a long time ago that a mafia man will do what he pleases, and you can either buckle up and enjoy the ride, or get off at the next stop and never look back.” She shrugged. “I’ve been buckled up for a long time, Enzo.”
The relief I felt was astronomical. I didn’t even notice I was holding my breath until Lita turned to me and smiled.
