Page 75 of The Don's Secret Heir

It takes a long time for the door to open.

“You got it?”

I recognize the voice—Dario and Beth’s cousin, Rocco.

I grit my teeth even harder. Rocco has a reputation that precedes him. He’s a bigger womanizer than anyone I’ve ever known, except maybe my father.

For a long time, I blamed him for Mama leaving. I know now that it wasn’t just his infidelity but the fact that she never wanted to be part of the mob life, but...

It took me a long time to forgive him for cheating on her.

And I’ll never forgive Dario.

“I got it,” Dario mumbles, words slurred around the edges. I think about slipping back up the stairs, and I even try it, but he calls out my name. “Li? Are you still up?”

I turn around and look down at him. He’s shed his suit jacket somewhere, his tie loose, dark hair falling over his face.

He gives me a sheepish, boyish smile, looking at me with glazed dark eyes, and my heart does a flip in my chest.

No. No no no. Don’t you start.

“Just about to go to bed.”

He sways on his feet and, like instinct, I reach out to steady him, holding his shoulders. Then I sigh and get under one of his arms.

My nose wrinkles. He smells like scotch and perfume, and I don’t know which scent I hate more.

Dario mutters something incoherent as I help him up the stairs, and I manage to open the door of his bedroom.

I lead his heavy ass inside, plopping him down on the bed.

“Can get to bed on my own.” He sounds sullen, like a little boy, and I can’t help but chuckle.

“Sure, sure. Could have fooled me.”

“Why?”

I blink at him. “Why what?”

“Why are you helping me?”

He stares at me, unblinking, his eyes so dark brown they look black in the moonlight.

I sigh. “I don’t know. Because you needed the help.”

“Would have been fine.”

“You would have faceplanted on the steps. Where’d you go, a strip club or something?”

He slowly smirks at me. “Why? Would you be jealous?”

I go silent, tugging off one of his shoes and setting it on the ground. I tug off the other one and he grunts, sitting up.

“Come here.”

“No, Dario, I?—”

But it’s too late. He’s already tugging me into his lap, his arms around my waist, and he makes a sigh against the bare skin of the back of my shoulder.