Page 32 of The Mobster’s Present

“Shouldn’t be more than two and a half hours,” he answers with a straight face while his eyes dance with amusement and love.

Oriana lets out a small sigh. “That’s kind of a long time.” I can see the wheels in her mind turning as she considers whether or not she’d rather be surprised. “But,” she adds, “I think I can wait that long. Keep it a surprise,” her words sound like a verdict rendered from her throne.

Carlotta offers to read her a book, and she grins with an excited nod while crawling into the older woman’s lap. I lean into Salvatore’s chest and watch them.

My heartbeat is steady. I should be freaking out and resisting the way this man has come into my life and taken over. But everything he does is to keep us safe and happy.

Oriana’s excitement grows, especially when we’re in the back of the car taking us to our new home. When he drive by Angelo’s home, he points it out.

“That is where your Uncle and Aunt live,” Salvatore’s voice is low as he lowers his head toward Oriana.

She lets out an excited squeal and presses her face to the glass. “Will I get to meet them soon?”

Salvatore chuckles and gently strokes the top of her head. “We’ll get you settled in at home first. You need to tell us if you’d be more comfortable going to his house or inviting them over to ours.”

“Ours,” she repeats the word with reverence I’ve never heard from her before. “You’re going to live with us too?”

My breath hitches while Salvatore’s face doesn’t give anything away. “Of course,” he assures her.

“Does that mean we’re a family from now on?” Oriana’s hazel eyes go big and round as she asks the question with innocence filling her words.

“Oh, little warrior,” Salvatore’s tone is filled with sweet indulgence, “we already are.”

We pull through the gates of an impressive mansion as Oriana claps her hands together with excitement. As Salvatore ushers us out of the car and into our new home, Oriana’s head is whipping back and forth while she tries to take it all in.

It’s easy for me to spot all the furniture that I picked out at Sal’s insistence. Everything is ready for us with nothing out of place. I expected to feel out of place walking into a home that I don’t have to put together with my own hands, but with every step I take, my soul settles more and more.

Salvatore wraps an arm around my shoulders as Oriana pops in and out of rooms, her excited chatter reaching us along with Carlotta’s gentle murmurs. “Is this okay?”

“Okay?” I scoff and look up at him while I giggle. “This is a mansion.”

Salvatore’s face doesn’t crack, but I can see the worry in his eyes. It dawns on me, probably too slowly, that he’s not asking to be praised. He’s asking because he needs to know and be reassured.

“This is perfect, Sal,” I murmur. My hands slide up his chest before I wrap my arms around his neck. “It feels like home.”

His shoulders drop slightly and I can’t help but smile at how cute he is. I’m sure he wouldn’t appreciate it if I said it out loud, and simply file the moment away.

Oriana pops up in front of us, her voice filled with excitement. She grabs Salvatore’s hand and tugs. “Can you show me where my room is?”

I tease her by asking, “Are you that excited?”

“I can hardly wait. It’s like I’ve got ants in my pants,” she crows the words with a giggle while looking at Carlotta, the person who taught her that particular phase.

Salvatore leads us through the house, giving us a simple tour as he does. Carlotta follows behind us with the tablet in her hands. I have no doubt she’s making notes on childproofing, evacuation maps, or something equally important.

The moment the door of her bedroom swings open, she’s off like a shot. She ricochets around the room to take in every single inch of it.

When she’s explored, even if not as thoroughly as she would like, she stands in the middle of the room and twirls around. “All of this is mine?” The hope in her voice is easy to hear as she turns toward Salvatore.

“All of this is yours,” he confirms.

“Wow,” she breathes out and spins around one more time, slowly, with her arms outstretched. “Thank you, Sal-love.” She giggles at the nickname, which mimics the one he’s given her, before a thoughtful look crosses her face. After she steps right up to him, not worried about the way he towers over her, she looks up at him with round eyes. “Or should I call you Daddy?”

Salvatore lets out a strangled sound from the back of his throat. He drops down to his knees so quickly that I reach towards him before I can stop myself. With a gentleness that a man like him shouldn’t be capable of, he wraps his arms around her and pulls her small frame against his chest.

“You can call me whatever you want,” his voice is thick with emotion.

“Daddy suits you,” she says it like it’s the most obvious answer there is when he pulls back slightly.