I don’t want to give Sofia another reason to get attached to him.
But the look on her face is so hopeful that I can't bring myself to refuse.
"I'll ask him," I say.
I walk downstairs and find Dante in his den.
He's on the phone speaking in low tones.
When he sees me in the doorway, he ends the call and sets the phone down.
"Sofia wants you to read her a bedtime story," I tell him, which only makes me feel like he'll gloat about it.
I kicked him out only a few nights ago, it seems, and now I'm the one inviting him back.
He stands immediately but he doesn’t gloat at all.
In fact, he seems more excited to be with her than to prove to me that he has a spot in her routine now. "I'll go now."
We walk upstairs together, and Sofia's waiting in bed with a book already picked out.
It’s the same Italian Christmas folk story he read to her before, but this time of year, there aren't many books she chooses otherwise.
He sits on the edge of the bed and opens the book.
Sofia scoots closer to him and leans against his side.
I stand in the doorway and watch them.
There’s something endearing about watching a Mob boss be so gentle and tender with a little girl.
I had him all wrong.
Dante isn't just a brute.
There's a part of him that's just as nurturing as every good father in this world.
By the time he's done with the story, she's already almost sleeping.
Her eyes are heavy.
She's kissed the doll at least five times, and she's yawning every few minutes.
But when she speaks to him, it breaks my heart.
"Will you stay every night?" she asks in a drowsy voice.
Dante looks at me, and I can see the conflict on his face.
He wants to say yes.
I can tell he wants to promise her that he'll always be here.
But he doesn’t make promises he can't keep.
"I'll be here as often as I can," he says.
"Good," Sofia murmurs. "I like it when you're here."
