Chapter 25
Dominic
Iswitch off the lawnmower when I feel my phone vibrate in my pocket. Pulling it out, I glance down at the screen and see it’s a message from Dante.
Punching in the encrypted code to unscramble it, a crease forms between my eyebrows when I read what it says.
Dante: We have a problem, meeting at my place in an hour.
I glance at the time and see it’s just after 9 am.
Me: K
The rest of the lawn will have to wait until I return. I fucking hate leaving a job half done, but I’m going to need to shower and change before I head out.
When I enter the house through the back door, I follow my nose to find the girls. They’re in the kitchen, and I have a feeling they’re baking a cake because my home smells just as sweet as Emily.
A smile tugs at my lips when I see them. Peach is standing on a chair that’s been pushed against the counter, and Emily is standing beside her. Their backs are to me, so I take a moment to observe them.
“I do, Emmy,” Lil’ Peach demands, reaching for the spoon she’s holding.
Emily steadies the bowl for her, laughing softly when a cloud of icing sugar puffs up and coats Peach’s cheek. I love the patience she has with my baby girl.
“Careful, sweetheart. We’re making a cake, not a snowstorm.”
Peach giggles, and Emily leans in to place a soft kiss on her hair, and something warm settles in my chest. This is what she should’ve had all along.
Someone patient. Someone gentle. Someone who actually shows her how to do things.
It’s moments like this that make me hate my sister’s addiction because it forces her to be absent from Peach’s life.
I clear my throat so I don’t startle them. “Looks like you two are up to something dangerous.”
Emily turns towards me with a smile, and Peach spins around on her chair, beaming.
“I bake cake,” Peach announces proudly, reaching for one of the little cupcakes on the tray so she can show me, but her tiny hand fumbles.
The cupcake slips right through her fingers and hits the floor with a soft thud.
Peach freezes, and her bottom lip begins to tremble as she stares down at it.
“I sorry, Emmy,” she whispers, her voice already breaking before the tears spill over.
My chest tightens at the sight, but Emily is already moving, calm and steady. She crouches beside Peach, gently brushing the icing sugar from her cheek.
“It’s okay, sweetheart,” Emily says softly. “We have plenty.”
Peach sniffles, uncertain, so I step forward and reach down to pick it up, peeling off the wrapper and shoving the entire thing between my lips.
“Mmm, delicious,” I mumble through a mouthful. Peach smiles, and Emily winces. “Five-second rule,” I add with a shrug, earning myself an eye roll.
Peach’s tears are now gone, replaced with that bright grin that always knocks the wind out of me. She wipes her face with the back of her hand, leaving a streak of icing across her cheek.
Emily sighs, but there’s a smile tugging at her lips. “You’re unbelievable.”
“Hey, it worked,” I reply. “Crisis averted.”
Emily’s eyes are still on me as she straightens, and when her gaze drifts lower, taking in the fact that I’m shirtless, a faint blush rises to her cheeks.
She clears her throat and tucks a loose strand of hair behind her ear, pretending to focus on the cupcakes again. “You, uh … finished mowing already?”
“Nearly. I have to head out for a while. Are you okay to watch Peach?”
“Of course.”
“Dante called. I’m going to have a quick shower first.”
As I turn to leave, my phone starts ringing in my pocket. When I pull it out, I see Lucia’s name flashing on the screen. I answer the call with a, “Yeah?”
“Hey,” her voice comes through bright and breezy. “I’m heading over to the Mancinis with Romeo to see Arabella and my baby niece. We thought we’d go for a swim since the weather is nice today. Do Emily and Lil’ Peach want to come hang with us?”
I glance back at the girls. Peach is leaning forward, tongue poking out in concentration as she presses tiny, colourful, candy-covered chocolates into the frosting one by one. Emily is smiling at her like she’s doing the most important work in the world.
“I’ll put the call on speaker, and you can ask them yourself,” I say, holding out the phone towards Emily. “It’s Lucia.”
Emily takes it, raising an eyebrow. “Hi, Lucia.”
“Hi! I’m heading to my sister’s house,” Lucia says. “We’re going to hang out in the backyard and swim. Do you and Lil’ Peach want to come join us?”
Peach looks up at Emily, eyes wide and hopeful.
Emily glances at me, then down at Peach. “Pool?” she says with a small laugh.
“Yes!” Peach squeals, punching the air and the cupcake in her hand goes flying, but this time I reach out and catch it before it hits the floor.
“Is that okay?” Emily mouths to me, and when I nod, she smiles before glancing back at the phone. “Sounds great. We’d love to come over.”
“Perfect! Bring your swimsuits. See you soon!” Lucia chirps.
A pleased grin curves Emily’s plump lips as she ends the call and hands the phone back to me. She’s slipping into my world far too easily, and I’m not sure what to do with that.
“Peach’s swimsuit is in the third drawer of her dresser,” I say, backing out of the kitchen. “There’s sunscreen under the sink in the bathroom. If you want to pack a bag, we can head out after I shower.”
Emily has that sweet fucking smile I remember from the day we met plastered across her face on the drive to Dante’s.
I love seeing her make friends, and her happiness is infectious. She was practically bouncing with excitement at the prospect of a girly get-together as we left the house and headed towards the car.
Lucia’s and Arabella’s husbands may be morally grey like me, but their wives are exactly the kind of friends Emily needs. They’re good people.
Dante greets us at the door, shaking my hand, kisses both of Emily’s cheeks, and lightly bops Lil’ Peach on the nose.
“Arabella and Lucia are out by the pool,” he tells Emily, pointing towards the rear of the house. “There’s a bathroom near the back glass sliding doors if you want to change before you go out there.”
Why does the thought of seeing Emily in a bikini or even a one-piece get my blood running hot? I’ve seen those fucking long, lean legs of hers in cut-off denim shorts, the ones she’s yet to wear since she moved into my place, and Jesus Christ, I have to stifle a groan at the thought.
Thankfully, Dante is walking in front of me as I follow him down the hall, so I can discreetly reach down and adjust my cock without being seen.
When we enter his office, I find Romeo and Lorenzo—Light ’em up Lorenzo, the resident firebug in our establishment—both seated near the boss’s desk.
They stand as I extend my bandaged hand, and Romeo inspects it with a squint. “What the fuck?”
“Emily playing nursemaid,” I explain.
He chuckles. “Lucia was like that when I got stabbed. She even ordered some skimpy little nurse outfit online, thinking it’d break through my resolve.”
I chuckle because I can totally see her doing that. This poor guy didn’t stand a chance the moment she set eyes on him. She obviously did something right, though; they’re now married with a kid.
Dante rounds the desk, taking his rightful seat on the other side.
“I called this meeting because early this morning someone firebombed La Riviera. And when I say firebombed, I use the term loosely. The dumb fucks lobbed a poor excuse for a Molotov cocktail—something that looked like it was created from a YouTube DIY video—and it barely caught. It smashed through the front window, but fortunately, Massimo was inside prepping dough at the time and managed to put it out with a fire extinguisher before it could even take hold. If they weren’t so incompetent, though, it could’ve turned out a lot worse. ”
“Do you think it was the bikies?” I ask.
He nods before answering. “I managed to get the CCTV, it was two guys dressed in black with hoods and bandannas covering their faces, but the stolen car they used was found burnt out a block away from the Reapers clubhouse. It doesn’t take a genius to know it was them.”
“Fuck,” I mutter under my breath as a cold ripple runs down my spine.
I’m grateful Emily wasn’t there, and that Massimo wasn’t hurt, but any relief I feel is tangled inside me along with something else. A gnawing fear that the threat is still real.
I thought I took care of them, but clearly, the Reapers are too damn stupid to know when to pull their fucking heads in. Too stupid to realise they’re digging their own graves one reckless stunt at a time.
“I’m not sure if it was retribution for what happened when they came to the restaurant to intimidate Emily, or if they somehow got word we were behind the raid. Either way, those cunts are going to pay for what they did. I can’t just stand by and do nothing,” Dante states.
“What’s the plan?” I ask.
His gaze moves to Lorenzo, who sits back in his chair with his arms crossed and an expression carved from stone.
“We’re going to show them how it’s done properly. They want to start a fire, well, we’ll give them a fucking inferno.”
There’s promise laced behind Dante’s words, and a slight smile curves at Lorenzo’s lips as he sits forward in his seat and rubs his hands together.
“They chose escalation, so I’m going to finish it.”
We spend the following couple of hours making plans and sorting through the rest of the day’s business. When we finally wrap up, it’s well past midday.
Dante picks up his phone and scrolls through his contacts before lifting it to his ear. “Mario,” he says when the person on the other end of the line answers. “I need a delivery brought to the house as soon as possible. Pizzas, pastas, garlic bread, and a few salads. Enough to feed an army.”
There’s a muffled response on the other end, something that makes Dante huff out a quiet laugh.