Page 122 of Obsessed by My Ex's Mafia Uncle

“You’re a father again.” He smiles, pleased with the thought. “Lucky bastard.”

Before I can answer him, the door opens without a knock.

Atelia steps, her heels clicking once, twice against the floor before she slows, her gaze moving between Enzo and me like she’s walking into something she expected

“Well.” She draws the word out. “If it isn’t tension and bad decisions.”

Enzo huffs.

“Which one of us is which?” He asks.

“Why so thirsty?” She rolls her eyes at him.

“Not now, both of you.” I push off the window. “Talk.” I snap my fingers at her.

She exhales like she expected that too, slipping her hands into the pockets of her pants, taking her time in a way that already irritates me.

“She said no.”

Something pierces through my heart, it feels like I’d been holding space for something else without admitting it.

“How no?” Enzo asks, leaning forward slightly.

Atelia glances at him briefly, then back at me.

“The kind that leaves no room for consideration,” she shrugs. “The kind that’s already made up its mind before you even finish the sentence.”

My jaw ticks.

“She’s taking the kid to her foster mom,” she adds. “Plans to stay there for a while.”

I turn away before it shows, moving back toward the desk, my hand brushing over the surface once before I reach for my keys.

“Robert, don't…” Enzo starts.

“She didn't seem fazed about blocking your number too, by the way,” Atelia adds, almost casually, like she’s dropping something small instead of something that locks a door I didn’t realize I needed open.

That does it.

I grab the keys fully this time, the metal biting into my palm as I turn toward the door.

“Where are you going?” Enzo asks.

I move past him, past Atelia, the decision resolving into my body faster than it does into words.

“Robert,” he calls again, louder this time.

“I need to do this myself,” I throw over my shoulder.

“She already said no,” Atelia hollers behind me.

“I didn’t hear it from her,” I reply, not slowing down as I throw on my jacket.

“And if she says it again?”

I pause for half a second. Enough to think it through without deciding on what to do from there or with her rejection.

“I’ll deal with it.” I don’t wait for anything else.