“Once, a long time ago, in a land far, far, far away from here,” I begin, “there was a dancer who protected a princess from a scary fire-breathing dragon.”
Camille’s mouth parts. She is fully invested in my story.
“The dancer was brave… and a little stubborn.” My eyes drift to the new entryway when a muffled groan sounds from my neighbor’s apartment. “And even though she didn’t know it at the time, she wasexactlywhat the little girl needed, because although the dragon was only trying to protect the princess, he’d only ever lived with other dragons, so he didn’t know what to do.”
Camille rubs her palms together as a soft sigh of happiness vibrates her lips. She’s so easy to love. Too easy.
“He could have gotten mad, but his daddy dragon taught him that there’s no smoke without fire, so instead of using his big fiery breath to scare everyone into doing what he wanted, he drank so much water that his tummy ached for days.” I keep my focus on my daughter but project my voice toward the new, unpainted arch separating my apartment from Lucia’s. “Do you know what he did with all that water, Camille?”
Laughter barrels out of me when Camille’s big dragon exhale covers Valentina’s phone screen with spit. Her release of imaginary water whistles through my phone speaker, almost drowning out Lucia’s soft sigh.
“That’s right. He used his big protective belly for good instead of bad… which of course means both the princess and the dancer climbed onto his back and rode to Happily Ever After. The end.”
Camille yawns during my last two words before she slowly blinks.
“Goodnight, sweetheart,” I murmur when Valentina carefully slips out of Camille’s bed and tucks her in as I have every night for the past six months.
After tiptoeing out of her room, Valentina adjusts the camera so it faces her. “She’s fine,” she says, glancing at me. “More than fine. She’s excited. And honestly? I am too. It’s been a while since I’ve had a sleepover.”
I huff out a laugh. “There’s no way Vanni will let you stay all night.”
“Oh, please. He’s too busy running your errands to care where I sleep tonight.” Her lie lasts two seconds. “She sleeps through, right? My room is down the hall, but if your somewhat overbearing brother makes me leave, I want to make sure I’ll still hear her if she wakes.”
I nod. “She sleeps through. Has since…” I stop because I don’t know the answer. I have no clue when she stopped asking for a glass of water. I don’t even know when she first slept through the night. I’m lost to half the things a father should know.
Valentina’s expression softens. “Don’t feel guilty, Dante. What happened was out of your hands, and you’re doing everything you can now to make it right. And sometimes, bettering ourselves benefits our children more than it benefits us. Even if you can’t see how much Lucia’s presence has changed you in the previous two weeks, you can’t deny how much she’s helped Camille.” Tears glisten in her eyes as they stray back to Camille’s partly closed door. “She hugged me tonight.” A small, disbelieving laugh slips out of herO-formed mouth. “First time in six months, so if you can’t find a way to keep Lucia in her life, call me. I’m not above kidnapping.”
“I’ll keep that in mind.”
After saying goodnight, I end the call. My jaw spasms as I stare at the alcove that cost almost as much as this apartment. Lucia’s shadow is gone, taking with it any hope that she’ll go easy on me since I’m a single father.
As I head to the built-in bar in the den, I pull out my phone and call Giovanni.
He answers immediately. “Already finished or not yet started?”
I scoff, and it reveals everything to him.
“Ouch.”
Not wanting to steal more of his time from his pregnant wife, I ask, “Any updates?”
Valentina is six months pregnant with the first Caruso boy in this generation. Although they got the desired gender for the Cosa Nostra,they’re already planning a world where future children can grow up without bias based on their gender.
“Yeah.” Papers shuffle. “Elio is tracking the locations of the businesses Lucia believes she called tonight.”
I freeze with a bottle of whiskey suspended in midair. “And?”
“It isn’t good,” he says. “Most of them were established after the Popovs pulled away from the sex trafficking conglomerate. The ones that weren’t aren’t any better. They’re still exploiting women. You know how I feel about that.”
I do. Just as much as I know if his unborn child had been a girl, he’d be twice as ruthless.
“Is there any paperwork that will lead us to the distributors? If we can nip this in the bud at the source, we’ll have a better chance of running them out of Sicily.”
He murmurs in agreement. “We’ll shut down the ones on home soil quietly and with no mess.” He continues before I can thank him for his help. “If they’re not from here, I’ll pass on their info to Nikolai.” The integrity of the business in our part of Sicily is usually my burden, but he, along with Matteo, Nico, and Elio, took on a lot of the slack when Camille arrived on my doorstep. “We’re about to visit the popular haunt of your former tenant. Want in?”
I glance toward Lucia’s apartment. The thirst for revenge pulses through my veins, but despite my desire for bloodied knuckles, I can’t forget the promises I made when DNA proved Anna’s claims that I was a father.
“I’m good.”
