His capos hang back, their presence a silent reminder that I’m speaking with Don Cristiano, head of the Montoni crime family, and the threat of violence follows him like a shadow.
Rosa’s glare could cut glass. “I can’t say the same.”
If the hostility bothers him, he doesn’t show it. His attention shifts to the playground, scanning until he finds Leon.
“I was on my way to see if you liked the flowers,” he says to me, “when I saw you in the park.”
On his way. With two armed men. To check if I liked my flowers.
“They’re beautiful,” I murmur. “But please don’t do that again.”
“I wanted to.”
“Mr. Montoni!”
Leon’s delighted shout cuts through the tension. He comes barreling across the grass, the T-rex clutched in his arms, his face lit up with pure joy.
Rosa makes a choked sound beside me.
My child. Running toward a mafia don like he’s Santa Claus on Christmas morning.
Cristiano crouches down to meet him, heedless of his expensive coat pooling on the muddy grass. Leon crashes into him without hesitation, and Cristiano catches him easily, scooping him up and settling him on his hip like it’s the most natural thing in the world.
“Hey, little man.” His voice is warm in a way I’ve rarely heard. A softness that seems wrong coming from a man with armed guards at his back. “Are you having fun?”
“I got presents!” Leon is practically vibrating with excitement. “Look at my new T-rex.”
I feel myself turning red at Leon’s admission that I never told my son who the presents were from. I watch Cristiano’s face carefully, looking for signs of resentment or accusation, but there’s only warmth in his expression.
He holds Leon easily in his strong arms. Natural and comfortable, like he’s done this a thousand times before. The sight does something complicated to my insides. A tangle of terror and longing and, God help me, attraction.
He doesn’t know. He can’t know.
This is why I put Leon’s contacts in every time we go outside.
But standing there with Leon in his arms, Cristiano looks like a father. Like Leon’s father. Like the head of a dynasty cradlinghis heir. His capos standing guard like Leon is someone worth protecting.
I feel dizzy.
“I can’t be here.” Rosa’s voice is tight. She’s already on her feet, gathering her bag, her eyes darting between Cristiano and the hard-faced men behind him. “Carly! Mason! We’re leaving.”
“Rosa—” I start.
“I can’t, Mina. I’m sorry, but I can’t.”
Cristiano sets Leon down gently, smoothing a hand over his dark curls in a gesture so tender it makes my chest ache. “Don’t leave on my account,” he says to Rosa. “I just wanted to say good morning. I’ll go.”
Rosa pauses, clearly not expecting that.
I wasn’t expecting that either.
“Stay,” he says to me. Emotion flickers in his eyes. “Enjoy the park with your sister. I’ve intruded enough.”
He smiles down at Leon one more time, and there it is again, that flash of warmth that doesn’t belong on the face of a crime lord.
“I’ll see you later, little man.”
“Bye, Mr. Montoni!” Leon waves happily, completely oblivious to the discreetly armed men.
