Page 79 of Knocked Up by My Dad's Mafia Boss

“On occasion.”

Reese huffs. “I still want to kill him.”

I pat his back, leaning my head against his shoulder. “I love you for wanting to.”

We sit and sip in comfortable silence for a while, me holding Sofia’s hand in my lap, my head on Reese’s shoulder. I’m so grateful for them I could cry all over again.

But I’m pretty sure my body has completely run out of tears.

20

DANTE

I stand outside, staring down at the frayed toothpick on the ground for a long, long time, my eyes burning. Samantha’s…better. Not holed up in her room.

Not crying.

Not even pale anymore.

She looks…healthy. Glowing. Almost happy.

I don’t know what I was planning to say to her when I called out her name, but I suppose it doesn’t matter.It’s for the best.It’s what I keep telling myself, over and over.

I draw in a breath that shakes only a little and straighten up, heading back inside the house and up to my room. I think about going to the basement to hit something, but I did a lot of that the first night after I ended things, and my knuckles are still sore.

Besides, I’m exhausted.

I’m not sleeping much. Not eating much. Barely functioning.

I can’t stop thinking about her—remembering the way the amber flecks in her brown eyes flash when she’s mad. How crooked her smile is. How she lights up when she laughs. What she looks like with her head thrown back, her eyes rolled back into her head.

Fuck.

I stick my finger through the blinds in my room. It overlooks the pool and she’d been in a bathing suit, and I’m a fucking idiot so… I’m looking for her.

I see her sitting on the edge of the pool with her friends, leaning her head on Reese’s shoulder and all the breath goes out of my lungs in a rush.

This’ll be just the opening he’s looking for, won’t it? It’s only a matter of time before she moves on. I’d told her to, hadn’t I? I practically pushed her into his arms.

I can’t breathe, gasping in air like I’m drowning, my heart pounding too hard as I shut the blinds again. I sit on the edge of the bed, putting my head between my knees before I black out.

My phone buzzes with a text. It’s Elio: My office. Now.

Fuck.

He’s probably pissed at me. The night before, I was supposed to go for a shipment but I fell asleep after too many scotches and Ricardo had to go, instead.

Of course the shipment was hit by the Ricci’s, and Ricardo barely escaped with his life.

I groan and stand up, still trying to catch a deep breath. I have to get my shit together.

His door is slightly ajar again, and dread rushes through me as I slowly open it. He sits behind his desk, his arms crossed over his chest. I shut the door without him asking me, sitting down hard in the chair across from him.

“Before you say anything, just let me say I’m sorry,” I say quickly, looking down at my hands.

Elio doesn’t respond and finally, I look up. He’s frowning, leaned forward over his desk now. He doesn’t look angry. “What’s going on with you, Dante? What’s wrong?”

My eyes start to burn again and I clear my throat. “Nothing.”