Page 68 of Knocked Up by My Dad's Mafia Boss

He nods and I give Elio one last look before leaving. When I get into the car and put my hands on the steering wheel, they’re trembling.

I fucked up. I should have told Elio it felt fucking weird. Should have gone ahead of him. I wasn’t thinking.

That’s not true. Iwasthinking. I was thinking about his daughter.

I know what I have to do.

It’s just going to be a bitch to do it.

17

SAMANTHA

I wake up nestled in Dante’s scent, rolled up in his sheets. I inhale deeply. I slept like a rock. I sit up and stretch before I hear Ricardo shouting my name.

I scramble out of bed, bursting out into the hallway. Ricardo blinks when he sees me coming out of Dante’s room. “Samantha?”

“What’s wrong?” My heart is in my throat. Is Dante hurt?

“Your father’s been shot.”

I gasp, clapping my hand over my mouth as my eyes fill with tears. It’s not the first time Papa’s been injured, but it’s been years. Not since I was a teenager. “How bad?”

Ricardo walks closer to me and his eyes are kind. I suddenly feel bad for disliking him. “He’s okay,” he says softly, his hands hovering over my arms but not quite touching me. Respectful.

Guilt twists my stomach. I’m an asshole for misjudging him. “You’re sure?” Tears slip down my cheeks.

He nods. “Shoulder wound. He’s staying at Doc’s until tomorrow, but he’ll recover well.”

“Thank God.” I awkwardly reach out and pat Ricardo’s shoulder.

He smiles at me. “Don’t worry. Dante’s on his way back, and I’ll stay here until he gets here.”

“Dante’s okay?” I ask in a small voice. Ricardo blinks again and my stomach rolls.

I’m revealing too much. I’ve just come out of Dante’s room and now I’m asking about him, and?—

“He’s fine,” Ricardo says. “Don’t worry so much.”

I nod slowly, biting my lip. He doesn’t push me further.

“If you need me I’m right downstairs.”

I take in a shaky breath and slip back into my room. Sofia’s on her back, snoring like a lumberjack, while Reese sleeps on a futon mattress on the floor, half under the bed. I chuckle at my friends, and the laugh is welcome.

Reese snorts awake when I kick him lightly in the ribs. He wiggles from under the bed and sits up, rubbing his eyes like a little kid. “What time is it?”

“Early,” I admit. “Papa got hurt.”

He gapes at me for a second as if he hasn’t processed what I said. “Shit,” he says thickly. “Is everything okay?”

I nod. “He’s alright. It’s his shoulder. Nothing vital.”

“Thank Christ.”

“You think you can wake up Sofia so you two can get out of here?”

“Yeah, sure. I’m sure you’ll wanna see your dad.”