Page 19 of The Don's Secret Heir

“Dario?”

“Yeah?”

“Turn out the light, will you?”

He nods and flips it off, hesitating slightly before shutting the door.

I lie down in bed and grab my phone, starting up a dating profile using some photos I took recently while out with my friends.

It may not go anywhere, of course, and I’m doing it completely out of spite, but if Dario can live his own life, so can I, damnit.

And it’s about time I started living it.

When I wake up the next morning, I have over fifty messages, and a sly smile spreads across my face.

6

DARIO

I pace around the house for over an hour. The whiskey is calling my name, but with how I’m feeling right now, I’ll probably overdo it.

I can’t stop thinking about Liana, the bruises on her face, those skinned knees. The way she says she’s going to keep living her life.

What does that mean, exactly? I mean, I can’t be a hypocrite. I don’t plan on changing my sex life just because my ex is moving in. I can’t let her back in like that. I can’t fall in love with her again. It would be a disaster.

I’m clearly not sleeping tonight, so I call Giovanni.

“Hey, boss,” he answers.

“Hey. Listen, I need to take care of something. The new security guard I hired, Alan?”

“Yeah?”

“He’s dirty. Stole some jewelry and handbags from a... friend of mine in my apartment complex. Find out who he is, who he hangs with... I want to pay him a visit.”

“Jesus. Is everything okay?”

“Yeah. For now. I just want this taken care of.”

Giovanni pauses. “Taken care of? Over some jewelry and handbags?”

I sigh. Giovanni doesn’t often question me, and when he does it means it’s probably important.

“It’s Liana, Giovanni. They hit her.”

He draws in a sharp breath. ”Alright. I’ll find out and call you back. You want this done tonight?”

“Might as well. Can’t sleep.”

“Alright. And Dario?”

“Yeah, Giovanni?”

“Don’t let her get to you again, okay? You were... you were a mess when she left, frankly, and then after she got pregnant it was even worse?—”

“You don’t have to remind me,” I drawl. “I’m being careful. Trust me.”

He hangs up, not asking anything else, and I’m grateful.