Page 106 of When She Loves
“It’s nothing. What’s the plan for today?”
A beat passes. He turns the car on and pulls out of my driveway. “The guys at Oyster Bar called me earlier. They finally got the money…”
I tune him out. My father was a real monster. The kind that’s unusual even in our world where cruelty is a necessity. He turned that cruelty inward, toward me, toward Mamma. He might have turned it onto my sisters too if Mamma didn’t have the foresight to send them to a school abroad. They didn’t want to go without Mamma. They begged to stay, begged me to convince our parents to keep them here, but I couldn’t do that. For their own good, I couldn’t.
The day they left, they told me they hated me and Papà. Will my kids hate me too?
“They asked to see you so that they can be sure we’re all—”
“Do you think it’s possible to be a good father and a good don?” I interrupt.
Nero glances at me, brows furrowing. “I don’t know. You’re the one who had a don for a father.”
“It sure as fuck wasn’t possible for him.” Nero doesn’t know the details of what happened back when I was a kid, but he knows I never loved my father.
“At least your old man made your family rise to the top,” Nero says. “Look at Garzolo. That idiot’s shit in both areas.”
“What about Gino Ferraro?”
Nero blows out a breath. “Who knows. It’s hard to tell with him, but his sons aren’t exactly poster boys for sanity, are they? Alessio seems to have more than a few screws loose. And I don’t think Romolo’s got anything but tits and ass floating in his head.”
I grunt. “So you’re saying it’s impossible.”
“I don’t think it’s impossible, but I think it’s hard. Most don’t bother trying. You know how it is, Rafe. Kids are pawns until they knock over the king and take his place.”
He’s right. The mob’s all about family, but somehow, we all end up screwing those around us. Thing is, I don’t want to have a fucked-up family with Cleo. But what’s the alternative? None of this fits into acceptable lines.
Nero clears his throat. “Why are we talking about this?”
“Cleo brought up kids.”
He laughs. “Fuck, you two are crazy. A few weeks ago, she hissed and bared her claws whenever you got too close to her, and now she wants to have babies with you?”
“It’s not like that. She just mentioned it offhand.”
He shrugs. “Then forget about it. That’s a problem for tomorrow, and tomorrow might never come.”
I grunt. Again, he’s right. I can’t worry about the future. I’ve got enough shit to deal with right now. But the uncomfortable feelings that came up from this discussion stay with me for the rest of the day.
CHAPTER33
CLEO
Another month passesin the blink of an eye, during which Rafaele and I fall into a comfortable rhythm.
No, that’s a lie. A rhythm, yes. Comfortable? Maybe for him.
On paper, things are going well. He’s been around a little more this month. We’ve gone on dates, attended dinner parties, and even went to a gallery opening together. When we’re together, I never feel like I bore him. He’s a great listener, and whenever I have some problem at work, he gives me thoughtful advice. I enjoy his company, and I think he enjoys mine. But as soon as I try to pierce the armor he wears, to move beyond facts and logic, I hit resistance.
Every time he shuts down a conversation or pulls away, I have to remind myself not to be greedy.
The problem is…Iamgreedy. With each passing day, my feelings for him grow. They pulse inside my chest, a cocktail of longing, affection, and desire. And I want more from him. I want to know what Rafaele is thinking when he looks at me with those piercing blue eyes. I want to know what he’s feeling when he touches my skin, sending shivers down my spine. I want to know if he feels the same way I do, and whether he wants more too.
I’m falling for him, fast and hard, and I don’t know what’s waiting for me at the bottom of the drop.
It’s Sunday morning, and the house is quiet. I wander onto the back terrace and take a look at the garden. It takes me a moment to realize it’s in full bloom. I’m checking the calendar on my phone for the date when familiar footsteps sound behind me. Rafaele wraps his arms around my waist and presses a kiss to my shoulder.
“I can’t believe it’s July,” I say. “Do you know my birthday is in a week?”
