Page 113 of Knocked Up by My Dad's Mafia Boss

I’m not sure if it’s working, because I feel about as bad as he looks. I threw up about four times this morning, just remembering the night before. What the doctor said about avoiding stress keeps coming back to me.

I wonder if something’s wrong. If I should go back to the doctor. I’d definitely have to sneak out.

I’m probably just under too much stress, with Dante here. I almost wish Ricci would either make a move or leave it be, so that I could stop being watched like a hawk.

I eat bacon in my room. Meat is about the only thing I’ve been able to keep down.

When I’m finished, I wash my hands and then walk back out into the hallway, still hungry. I’m about to go down the stairs when my name is called.

“Sam? Can you come in here for a minute?” Papa’s calling from his office. The door is slightly ajar.

My breath catches. Does he know something? Is he suspicious after what happened last night? Is he going to ask me about Dante? I slowly walk in, shutting the door behind me. I sit down in the chair across from his desk.

Papa looks serious. Pale.Fuck.“Papa—” I start, and then he just blurts it out.

“I’m seeing someone.”

The words die in my throat.

“You’re…. Wh-what?” I stutter.

“Seeing someone.” He leans forward. “Cara mia, I don’t want you to be upset.”

“Upset?” I’m confused, because here I thought he was about to ask me about Dante.

“I know after your mother, it’s hard to think of someone replacing her.”

“No one can replace her.” My chest feels heavy, suddenly, as I realize what Papa’s trying to tell me.

“Of course not,” he says quickly, reaching for my hand. I put it on the desk, let him take it. “But things are getting serious, and I wanted you to know about it.”

“You’re finally getting serious with someone?”

He nods, his brow furrowed. He squeezes my hand.

“It’s about time, Papa,” I breathe out in a laugh, and the shock on his face is palpable.

“You’re not upset?”

“That you’re finally finding someone after years? Of course not. I want you to be happy.”

“That’s all I want for you, too,cara mia. And if Ethan Moretti makes you happy, I’ll hand him to you on a silver platter.”

I chuckle. “I don’t think you can give me what I want this time, Papa.” There’s a tinge of bitterness to my words, but he doesn’t catch on.

“I’ll give you the moon.”

“What if I want all the stars?”

“Those, too.” He beams at me. “I want you to meet her.”

“What’s her name?”

“Olivia. Olivia Reynolds.”

I raise an eyebrow. “Not Italian?”

“Don’t hold that against her,” Papa jokes.