Page 50 of The Mafia King's Lost Son
It’s so refreshingly ordinary that I find myself relaxing for the first time in weeks.
“So how are you settling in?” Elena asks. “I know this place can be overwhelming. All the security and the guards and the general…intensity of everything.”
“That’s one word for it.”
She laughs. “Marco warned me you had sass. I like it. Most people are too intimidated to be real around here.”
“I’m too tired to be anything but real.”
“I get that.” She takes a sip of her coffee. “For what it’s worth, you’re safe here. Dante’s…well, he’s Dante. But he protects his people. And apparently you and Luca are his people now.”
There’s something knowing in the way she says it that makes me wonder how much Marco has told her. How much everyone knows about the complicated situation I’m in.
We talk for another hour while Rosa watches the kids and makes sure they don’t destroy the kitchen. Elena tells me about the local farmer’s market, about the best pizza place that delivers, and about normal things I haven’t thought about in months.
It reminds me how isolated I’ve been from being on the run, how much I’ve been missing out socially.
By the time Elena leaves with her kids, I feel lighter and refreshed.
“She’s nice,” I tell Rosa as we clean up the coloring supplies.
“She is. And she understands this life better than most. You should spend more time with her.”
“I’d like that.”
The rest of the day passes in the same routine. Lunch with Luca and Rosa. Afternoon playing in the yard, the early winter sun warm and armed guards watching from a distance. Dinner with Dante where we barely speak and Luca fills the silence with stories about his day.
Bedtime is the worst part because Dante insists on being there for it. On reading stories and tucking Luca in and being a father.
And I have to watch. Have to see my son’s face light up when Dante walks into the room. Have to listen to them talk about knights and dragons and all the things little boys love.
I have to admit that Dante is actually good at this. Patient and kind and everything I didn’t expect.
“One more story!” Luca begs after Dante finishes the third book.
“Not tonight. It’s already past your bedtime.”
“But I’m not tired!”
“Yes you are. I can see your eyes trying to close.”
“No they’re not!”
Dante ruffles his hair. “Sleep now. We’ll read more tomorrow.”
“Promise?”
“Promise.”
Luca considers this, then nods and snuggles deeper into his blankets. “Goodnight, Dante.”
“Goodnight, Luca.”
I wait until Dante leaves before tucking the blankets around Luca one more time and kissing his forehead.
The house is quiet when I finally head downstairs hours later. Everyone’s asleep or on patrol. The only sound is my footsteps.
I can’t sleep. I haven’t been able to sleep properly since we arrived. Too many thoughts racing through my head. Too many fears about what comes next. Too many confusing feelings about the man keeping us here.
