Page 34 of Hot for Her Italian Mafia

Brent holds the fist out to his father, and Luca slides a flat palm underneath it. Releasing the content of his hands, three earthworms drop into Luca’s palm and wriggle around.

I scream, though quietly so as not to wake Naomi sleeping in her cot a room over. At one and a half, she’s been the easiest child to manage out of the lot when it comes to nap time. She seems to love her sleep as much as I do, but I wouldn’t want to risk disturbing it.

Brent bursts out laughing at my reaction. It’s what he wanted to see, just like his brothers who’ve pulled the same tricks through the years.

“Now do you want to see something really cool?” Luca asks, eyes glued to the worms toppling over one another in search of soil.

“Uh-huh, uh-huh.” Brent nods his head eagerly.

Luca lifts a single worm into the air, inspecting it as though it were some precious jewel.

“Yes, this one will do.” Luca holds it up by one end of the tail and raises it over his head. Tilting his head, he starts to lower the worm towards his mouth.

“Gross,” Brent exclaims, watching the worm disappear. “You just ate a worm. I’m gonna tell on you.”

Luca smiles, having pulled this trick on Brent’s brothers many times before.

“Come on, boy. Eat your worms, they’re good for you,” Luca says, grabbing another and holding it out.

Brent stares at the wriggling body with deep contemplation before shaking his head and running off. “Dad ate a worm. Dad ate a worm,” he sings while skipping through the halls back outside to join his siblings.

Luca grabs the worm he dropped on his shoulder and puts it back with the others before chucking them out of the kitchen window. A trick of the eye that’s helped by Luca’s towering size over the little ones below.

“Gotta do it to the girls soon. See how they like it,” he says, casting his eyes out to our children playing in the garden. Our older children are in the pool, while the youngsters have found their way into my flower bed for their archeological digs.

I throw an arm over Luca’s shoulder, standing on my tippy-toes to do so. “Like me, they’ll probably hate it.”

I can see it now, the same way I’ve seen it a thousand times before—Luca’s longing stare as he looks over at all his accomplishments. The fancy house, big garden, and rest of the belongings don’t seem to keep his eye for long.

But his children swell him with so much joy that on very rare occasions, I may have even noticed a twinkling tear in his eye.

“I love you so much, my little lamb,” he whispers the cracked words, pulling me tighter into his side.

“And I love you forever and for always, my mafia king. My gentle giant.”

THE END