Chapter 2
Dominic
The past few days have been a chaotic mess, to put it lightly.
I don’t even know if I’m handling this right, but I’m giving it everything I’ve got.
I’ve always felt like I let my mum down somehow, even though I was just a kid, and all the shit with my sister still sits heavy on my chest. So there’s no way I’m screwing this up.
I’ll do whatever it takes to keep Lil’ Peach safe and with me, no matter what.
When Mary and I sat down to talk, she seemed unsure at first, but I can be a stubborn bastard, and I think my persuasion may have had her coming around by the end. There’s a lot stacked against me, but one thing I’ve got going for me is that I actually give a damn about that little girl.
I’ve taken the next few weeks off work to get my head straight and sort some things out. For the past few years, I’ve been bouncing at one of the Mancini Famiglia’s (Family’s) clubs. I’ve also handled problems for the mob as a side hustle, chasing down unpaid debts and that kind of thing.
Dante Mancini, the Don himself, has been on me for a while to become his full-time enforcer.
I’ve kept him at arm’s length, because I like my life the way it is …
uncomplicated. But with a baby to look after, I can’t be pulling night shifts at the club anymore.
Maybe it’s time I take him up on the offer. At least then I could set my own hours.
I step back and take a slow look around the room. The walls of the nursery are a soft pink, not a colour I ever thought I’d have in my house, but if Lil’ Peach is anything like Violet was as a kid, she’ll like all this girly shit when she’s old enough to know what it all means.
I spent half the night putting the furniture together, cursing at the damn instructions until it all finally stopped wobbling. Now it’s solid and safe.
There’s a stuffed teddy bear sitting in the corner of the cot, and the shelves underneath the change table are stacked with nappies, wipes, and a few baby books I don’t know if I’ll ever read to her.
This room still smells like paint, so I walk over to the window, cracking it open to let fresh air flow through.
I glance down at my watch. Mary should be here soon, and the thought makes my stomach go tight, but I tell myself it’s fine.
I’ve been pushed out of my comfort zone multiple times this week.
When I walked into the baby store yesterday, I had no idea what I was doing.
I just looked at the sales assistant and said, “I need everything for a newborn.” No checklist. No plan.
Just a sense of urgency and the weight of responsibility pressing on my shoulders.
An hour later, I walked out with a cot, a change table, a pram, a car seat, and everything in between, some things I didn’t even know existed before I stepped through those doors.
Bottles, swaddles, baby monitors, wipes, and a steriliser.
I must’ve looked like a deer caught in headlights, but the assistant didn’t flinch; she just guided me through it all like I was a dad-in-training, whether I liked it or not.
It’s been overwhelming, but for every moment of panic, there’s been a spark of excitement.
A growing sense of accomplishment, like I’m stepping into something bigger than myself.
This whole experience is teaching me that it’s okay not to have all the answers; sometimes, just showing up is the bravest first step.
Every spare second I’ve had has been spent at the hospital. The nurses have been incredibly patient, kind, and completely unfazed by my cluelessness.
They’ve walked me through all the basics: how to make up Peach’s formula, how to burp her properly, change her nappy without making a total mess of it, and even how to hold her safely when I bathe her.
It’s a lot to take in, and honestly, some moments feel like I’m just barely keeping up. But I’m learning. Slowly. There’s a rhythm to it all that I haven’t quite found yet, but I’m hopeful that with time these things will become second nature.
Right now, everything is new and raw. But every time I hold my niece, even just for a few quiet minutes, it reminds me what all this is for. And that somehow I’ll figure it out—one bottle, one nappy, and one deep breath at a time.
I run a hand over the white rail of the crib, and the dark tattoos circling my wrist stand out against the white wood. “You’ll be happy here, Lil’ Peach,” I murmur under my breath.
I’ll make sure she is.
I take one last look around before stepping out. I can only hope it hasn’t all been for nothing … that soon, my place and this overly frilly pink room will become my niece’s home.
I make my way into the kitchen to pour myself a glass of water, trying desperately to swallow down the nerves as I wait for the knock on the door from the woman who’ll ultimately determine if I’m fit to eventually bring my niece home.
“You did all this in two days?” Mary says, her voice caught somewhere between surprise and disbelief as she steps into the nursery.
I nod with a tight jaw. I fucking hate having strangers in my house. Letting someone walk through my space and touch my things grates on my last nerve, but today’s a necessary evil.
It’s probably because I never had a space that was solely mine growing up. Not once I entered the system, anyway. Foster homes, group homes, couches, and uncertainty became my norm.
There was always someone new watching and judging you, so you quickly learned to keep your guard up and your world small.
“This …” Mary says in wonderment, gesturing with her hand as she moves further into the room to take it all in. “I have no words, Dominic.”
I reach up and rub the back of my neck, again feeling scrutinised and strangely proud of my achievement. “I told you I was serious about keeping my niece.”
“You understand that if you get her, it may only be temporary. If your sister can prove she’s clean, employed, and capable of providing a stable home for her daughter, the court could return custody to her.”
I nod because nothing would make me happier. “Yeah. I get it.”
I hate knowing my sister’s life has gone to shit; it keeps me awake at night. If she could clean herself up, I’d be fully on board with her stepping up and being a mother to her daughter.
Mary doesn’t say anything for a moment. Just looks around the room again, like she’s trying to find fault and can’t. “I still can’t believe you did this in two days,” she repeats, quieter.
“I had to.” I glance at the cot, then back at her. “Lil’ Peach needs somewhere safe to land when she gets out of the hospital. When I said I wanted her, I meant it, Mary. She’s my blood … I don’t want strangers looking after her.”
She presses her lips together. “You’re taking time off work?”
“Yeah. I’ve already filed for leave. I’m looking at switching jobs too, something with better hours and more flexibility. I have an interview later today.”
Technically, it’s not an interview per se, but she doesn’t need to know that. I’d have no chance in hell of getting temporary custody of this little girl if she knew what my real plans were and the kind of activities my new job title would include.
“I know you have no family support, Dominic, but what about a support network … like neighbours or friends?”
I shake my head. “No.”
“No girlfriend, or future Mrs Rizzo in the picture?”
“Just me,” I grumble.
Mary jots something down, then looks up. “This isn’t going to be easy. Babies aren’t just cute and sleepy. It’s bottles at all hours of the morning, fevers, tears for reasons you don’t understand. And doing it alone—”
“I know,” I cut in, sharper than I meant.
I take a breath and lower my voice. “I understand what it’s going to take.
I’m not here to prove I can be perfect. I’m here to make sure Lil’ Peach is loved and not alone.
She’ll be safe and cared for with me. There’s nothing I wouldn’t do to see that happen. ”
“You’re a single man with no experience when it comes to caring for a baby.”
As true as that statement is, it still gets my back up.
“There are plenty of single dads out there managing just fine. I’m her family, and besides, I have a good job, I own my own house, have money in the bank, and I’ve never smoked, drunk alcohol, or taken drugs.
She’s my blood, and I’m not walking away from that just because this isn’t the ideal setup on paper. ”
The room falls quiet for a second with the kind of silence that stretches and makes you feel uncomfortable, but I’ll be fucked if I let them give that kid to someone else.
Mary’s eyes are on me, measuring and assessing, trying to decide whether this is desperation or devotion. To be honest, it’s a bit of both.
When she remains silent, I start talking again.
If this is my last chance to plead my case, I’m going to get it all out there.
“I may not have experience, Mary,” I continue, trying to keep my voice steady, “but I’m committed to this.
I’m willing to learn everything I need to.
I already am. I’ve been at that hospital every single day, asking questions, taking notes, watching the nurses like a hawk.
I didn’t expect this, no one did, but that doesn’t mean I’m not up for it.
” I pause, trying to keep the emotion from cracking through.
“She’s not a problem to solve. She’s my responsibility now. And I’m not going anywhere.”
Mary watches me as her pen stills in her hand, and she gives me an unreadable expression before nodding once. “Alright. I’ll put it in my report. No promises, but you’ll be given a fighting chance.”
A chance is all I need. “Thank you.”
“I’ll be in touch.”
Mary leaves without another word, and for the first time in years, I let myself hope.
I pull up outside La Riviera, one of Dante Mancini’s restaurants, and switch off the ignition. I’m meeting with him and Romeo De Luca, the underboss of the Famiglia, to discuss joining the family more permanently.