Page 119 of The Don's Secret Heir

“You don’t have to go anywhere you don’t want to.”

She nuzzles against my neck and my heart starts to race, but I tell my dick to stand down. This isn’t the right time, not when she’s so upset and vulnerable.

She falls asleep in my arms and I carefully lower her to bed, slipping off into sleep beside her after a few minutes.

I’ve never slept better than with Liana beside me. What does that say about me?

The next morning, panic claws up my throat when I wake and she’s not next to me. I hate that I sleep like the dead.

I pull on a pair of sweats since I’d discarded my suit in the night and pad downstairs, finding her sitting at the dining room table with Sonny, eating fruit.

Relief relaxes my shoulders and I walk over to sit next to Sonny. He instantly puts all his cantaloupe on my plate and I hand him my grapes.

Liana raises an eyebrow.

“Oh, he doesn’t like cantaloupe and I don’t like grapes, so we swap.”

“Yeah!” Sonny pipes up, popping a sliced grape into his mouth. Sofia always cuts them so that he won’t choke.

Liana smiles but there’s something strange about it. Something almost sad.

She looks back down at her own plate of fruit. “I guess I’m an anomaly. I like all fruits.”

“Better than being picky like this one,” I tease, ruffling Sonny’s hair. He smiles up at me, taking it with good humor.

Liana stiffens in her seat and I frown.

“Are you alright?”

“Fine,” she answers. “Maybe just still tired.”

“You’ve been through a lot. It’s okay to rest.”

She stands. “Sonny, come lie down with me while I nap? You can leave once I fall asleep.”

“Okay, Mama,” he says, agreeable enough, taking our plates to the kitchen.

I hear muffled conversation between him and Sofia and then he returns with a smile.

“Sofia says I’m a big help.”

“You are,” Liana tells him, taking his hand as she leads him up the stairs.

I watch them go, still frowning, before walking upstairs myself and dressing in a pair of black slacks and a t-shirt. I don’t need to be formal for what I have to do today.

I call Giovanni around ten.

“Boss?”

“I’m ready.”

“Alright. I’ll pick you up in fifteen.”

The cleaner takes care of things like this for me, but this time, I want to see it. I want to see my cousin, Beth Conte, put in the ground for what she did to my wife.

Giovanni shows up and I slide into the passenger seat.

“You don’t normally go to these.”