Page 111 of The Don's Secret Heir

“Yeah?”

“I need you to check out my wife.”

“Yourwife? Since when do you have one of those, Conte?”

“Since recently. She had an... incident and now she’s not herself.”

“What kind of incident?”

“Her best friend kidnapped her. Drugged her.”

He whistles. “That’s bad.”

“Yeah, no shit. And she barely woke up and now it’s like... like she’s not even here.”

I miss her.

“I’ll come have a look tomorrow, but I have to warn you—it sounds like it might not be something physical.”

“Just have a look, that’s all I ask."

“I’ll be there at noon tomorrow.”

“Thanks.”

I hang up and finish changing into my swim trunks, heading into Sonny’s room.

“Hey, get on your trunks. Mama wants to go to the pool.”

“She does?” He lights up, hurrying to wiggle into his swim trunks. “Is she feeling better?”

“I don’t know,” I say honestly. “I just know we need to cheer her up.”

“I can do that,” he says proudly, and takes a small bucket full of pool toys and his floaties down to the pool.

Liana lounges in her bikini on one of the lounge chairs, looking unbelievably gorgeous in a yellow two-piece that shows off the olive of her skin.

My mouth is practically watering, but I can’t stop looking at her face. That smile is plastered on. She’s not enjoying herself.

I’m worried about her. Sonny is, too, it’s obvious. I manage to distract him after a while by throwing him into the pool with his floaties and having him swim back up to me.

I start sending him after diver toys, throwing them in the deep end and having him retrieve him. By the time dusk starts to settle over the house, he’s floating in the shallow end, exhausted.

My muscles ache from throwing Sonny into the pool and I smile at Liana.

She smiles back, but it doesn’t reach her eyes.

“Ready to go in?” I ask her quietly, and she nods, a sense of relief passing over her face.

She heads into Sonny’s room to bathe him and put him to bed. It doesn’t take long, maybe thirty minutes, and I stand in the hallway, waiting for her.

Liana stops in her tracks when she sees me.

“There you are,” she murmurs, and there’s a glimpse of her old self in her gray eyes.

I smirk. “Like what you see?”

“I dunno.” I love the teasing lilt to her voice. “Doesn’t leave much to the imagination.”