Page 24 of The Don's Secret Heir

“What’s a nanny?”

“She’s kind of like a friend. Who takes care of you when Mama’s not around.”

Sonny pouts. “Where will you go?”

“Just have some things to take care of, honey. Marie will take good care of you, and I’ll be back before you know it.”

“Okay, Mama.”

His eyes are drifting shut and I smile, brushing his dark hair away from his face. Maybe it’s for the best Dario isn’t around much.

He might start to notice how much Sonny looks like him around the mouth and nose.

I walk out of Sonny’s room and climb into bed, cuddling up against the pillows. It’s easy to fall asleep on the comfortable bed, even though I’m stressed about tomorrow.

When I wake, daylight is streaming in the windows and I yawn.

I head to the bathroom to relieve myself and brush my teeth before immediately going to Sonny’s room.

He’s not there. Panic rises in my throat.

I rush down to Dario’s room and bang on the door.

He opens it, wearing no shirt and a pair of slacks. There’s a scar he didn’t have before high up on one pec. I want to run my finger across the white scar, but I restrain myself, looking away from his firm body.

“Sonny is missing,” I say quickly, coming back to myself.

He chuckles. “He’s not missing. He’s down having breakfast with Marie. She’ll be keeping him distracted while you get ready.”

I put a hand to my chest. “Oh, thank God. Maybe let me know next time she whisks him away.”

“Tried. Knocked on the door but you were conked out.”

“Really?”

I never sleep that soundly. I guess I really have been exhausted.

He hums and slides on a white button-up shirt, pushing the sleeves up to his forearms.

Fuck, he looks good. He’s only gotten hotter with age, the lines around his eyes making him look distinguished instead of old.

He’s about fifteen years older than me, which my father would hate.

But I don’t know. I’ve always gravitated toward older men.

I realize I’m just standing in the doorway, staring at him, and I quickly leave, heading back to my room and going through my more expensive clothes. I finally find a white gown I bought for some event.

It’s not quite a wedding dress, but it’ll do.

And this isn’t exactly how I imagined my wedding. Even though for a while, I’d imagined Dario as the groom.

I flush, embarrassed to even be thinking that way. Those dreams were dead. That girl, the one who fell in love with him, didn’t exist anymore.

Now I’m someone different. Someone he wouldn’t want, anyway.

He hasn’t made any kind of move, hasn’t tried to kiss me, so I’m assuming this is to be a sexless marriage, too.

But if he gets his fun somewhere else, so will I.