Page 40 of Texting My Mafia Boss

“Aw, what’s this?” I say, taking it.

“I made the wrapping,” she murmurs. “But the gift was… is from the house.”

“The wrapping is beautiful,” I tell her, and she beams. I open it carefully, smiling when I see the cute green ribbon.

“It’s for your hair,” Sylvie says. “What do you think?”

“It’s very pretty,” I reply. “Was it one of yours?”

She shakes her head. “It’s a secret. Do you really like it? Put it on!”

I smile, attaching it to my hair. “Verdict?”

“What does that mean?”

“A decision about whether it looks good or not.”

She beams. “It looksamazing. Do you want to color in with me now?”

The way she saysnowmakes me think she asked me before, when I was too lost in my own thoughts to hear. We color for an hour or so, then the front door opens and Ettore walks in. He looks at me and something in his face changes, hardens. He probably regrets letting go last night, the lust we shared.

His face breaks into a smile when he kneels and pulls Sylvie into a hug. “Did you have a good day at work?” Sylvie asks.

“I missed you,” he says, squeezing her.

“Come, look at all the coloring in we’ve done. I’m not too old for that.” She adds the last bit insecurely.

Ettore gently rubs her head. “I know you’re not,” he says.

He follows her to the table. I’m sitting cross-legged on the floor, looking up at him. He looms, gaze fixated on the table, not looking at me. I feel a sting of shame. This hot-and-cold routine is getting tiring. But then, Ididsay we shouldn’t have done that last night.

“Wow, this is great,” Ettore says, sounding like he means it. “Are you hungry? I’m in the mood for pancakes.”

“Yeah, but can I make the mix, Daddy?”

“Sure, go find Livia and ask her to help.”

Sylvie rushes from the room. I stand, averting my gaze.

Ettore reaches out to take my hand, but I take a step away.

“Where did you get that ribbon?” he asks, voice grave.

“Sylvie gave it to me. Why?”

“It was Vera’s,” he says.

My breath catches. My hand flies up to remove it.

“Don’t,” he says huskily. “It looks beautiful on you. It brings out the green in your eyes.”

He steps close. Takes both of my hands in his. I try to make myself pull away again, but I can’t. The heat is too strong between us. The memory of our texts too sharp.

“What if Livia or Sylvie comes in here?” I whisper.

“I know, it’s fucked up,” he groans, then leans down and kisses me.

I lose myself in him, my tongue stroking over his, moaning even if I know it’s wrong. He groans deeply and slides his hand down my back and toward my ass.