Page 11 of The Mobster’s Present

“She’s three, right?” When she nods, I realize that I have no clue when kids start school. “How long until she starts kindergarten?”

“She’ll do pre-K first. And not nearly long enough,” Ashleigh sighs like she’s already dreading the day when that happens.

“How is she doing with the diagnosis? I’m sure it must be scary and difficult when she doesn’t really understand what’s going on.” My heart aches for the little girl who I’ve only seen photos of.

Everything in me is screaming to go to her and hold her until she feels safe again and like nothing can bring her down. Honestly, I would have planned to leave tonight, but I can’t just walk into Moretti territory without a word to the Don; that would not be good for me or the organization.

There are protocols to follow and lines of communication to open.

I have no doubt that I’ll be welcomed, especially once the situation is explained, but that doesn’t mean I don’t have to go through the proper channels.

“She’s doing better with everything than I am,” Ashleigh’s tone is self-deprecating. “I think it helps that she doesn’t really understand. She still has her bad days, though, because now she’s cooped up and that might as well be hell for a three-year-old who prefers to always be moving, doing, and exploring.”

As she tells me stories about how she’s charmed the nurses and used to love going grocery shopping because she talks to everyone, and then is very upset if they don’t talk back, I listen closely but I also watch her.

The way her face lights up when she talks about her daughter.

The way her hands move, the motion bringing the story alive in a way that isn’t performative.

The way her worries live in the shadows.

“Do you want to call her?”

Ashleigh’s lips part and I can tell she wants to say yes, but, instead, she shakes her head. “No, it’s late. She should be asleep. Beth, the nurse sitting with her has been sending me updates and I talked to her before I,” she glances at me as if to gauge my reaction, “went into Second Circle.”

I keep my face blank. I hate that she worked there but I don’t hold it against her. Not when the Donna of the Amato family worked there as well. The last thing I want is for her to feel like I’m judging her; I’m not.

The other thing I hate is that she walked into Second Circle thinking she was going to find Romeo. The whole situation was dangerous from conception, but she still did it.

Which makes her my lioness. It doesn’t mean I have to like it.

Unable to take it a moment longer, I stand up and close the distance between us. She looks surprised when I slide my hands underneath her and lift her easily into my arms.

Ashleigh breathes out, “What are you doing?”

As I start toward the bedroom, I glance down at my woman. “Tomorrow is going to be a long day, and you have been carrying all of this by yourself for too long.” When I step inside and kick the door closed behind me, she doesn’t look around. “I’m going to make your brain completely shut off.”

While standing at the edge of the bed, I pause. Her fingers tighten on my shoulders, but I don’t push. My heart starts to race and I’m barely holding on to my control. But I wait.

Her body melts into me and she whimpers, “Make it all go away, please.”

When I lay her down on the bed, I undress her slowly. My fingertips ghost over her skin and I watch her shiver and shift to shy away from my touch and then welcome it. It’s as if she can’t decide which reaction to follow, which to trust.

“Close your eyes, Ashleigh,” there’s a command in my voice.

She looks at me for a long moment as I pull the last of her clothing from her body. She’s naked for me and I want to take her in, but I hold her gaze and let her see whatever she needs to.

When her eyelids flutter closed, I start kissing along her skin. When I nip at her, she jolts and lets out a gasp. I leave marks on her as I explore, mapping every inch of her and committing her to memory.

As I settle my body between her thighs, my mouth kissing along the underside of her breast, she giggles softly and admonishes, “That tickles.”

With a rumbling chuckle, I suck her nipple into my mouth. Her back arches as a moan falls from her lips. It sounds so fucking sweet. I want to find out every noise I can pull from her.

She reaches out and grips my shoulders, her nails biting into me in a way that makes me want to bury myself inside her right now. I glide one hand up the inside of her thigh and feel her muscles tense as I tease her.

“Sal,” she groans.

“I’ve got you, la mia piccola leonessa,” I promise after releasing her nipple and moving toward the other side.