Page 133 of The Don's Secret Heir

I chuckle. “Unfortunately, when you’re a grownup, kisses don’t make everything better.”

He climbs into bed, hugging a stuffed monkey he’d left behind when we left. He closes his eyes, but there’s still a little frown on his face.

My heart aches. My sweet boy deserves a father, and maybe Dario could have been it. But then again, I don’t know. He didn’t say anything about wanting to be in Sonny’s life.

I don’t hear from Dario for two days, and then I get a text from him at nine in the morning.

Come over at eleven for brunch. Don’t bring Sonny.

Well, that’s not very encouraging.

I tremble, looking down at the message, and Papa clears his throat.

“Everything okay?”

I nod slowly. “Can you watch Sonny for me for a few hours? Dario wants to talk.”

My father raise an eyebrow. “Alright,caro. Whatever you need.”

He goes back to his newspaper but after a moment he lowers it.

“What is it?” I ask, tilting my head.

“You love him.” It’s not a question.

I swallow hard. “Yeah. Yeah, I do.”

“Then let him take care of you,caro. You deserve it.”

Do I?

I just give him a watery smile and head upstairs to shower and dress in a skirt with thigh-high tights and a low-cut blouse.

Dario’s always liked my figure, so maybe it’ll grease the wheels a little.

Even if he forgives me, even if things go back to what they were, I don’t know if I’ll be satisfied. I’m still angry with him for cheating. It destroyed me.

But with the way I feel about him, the way he occupies my every waking thought—I have to try.

I knock on his front door at five before eleven and he answers it himself, looking gorgeous in a white t-shirt and a pair of gray sweats, barefoot. He runs a hand through his hair, looking at me with dark eyes and skating them across my body before landing on my face.

“Come in. Brunch is on the table.”

I sit down, the scent of maple syrup making my stomach clench. I haven’t eaten since Dario left yesterday, and I guess my body is mad at me.

“Eat,” he orders, and I do, waiting for him to say something.

When he doesn’t and I finish eating, I look up at him. He’s pushing around food on his plate. There’s bags under his eyes, like he hasn’t slept.

“I want to be a part of Sonny’s life.”

My heart starts to race. “Alright. I won’t keep him from you.”

“I want to tell him I’m his father.”

I nod. “Of course.”

“And I want to know why you left me.”