Chapter 41 Dominic
Dominic
All eyes are on Emily and me as soon as we enter the Mancini kitchen for breakfast, hand in hand. Lucia is the first to react, with a loud, “Whoop, whoop,” as she raises her arms high in the air.
I roll my eyes when she brings her bent fingers down to her face, blows on her blood red nails, and then wipes them on her chest smugly. I glance at Emily and find her beaming.
“D … Emmy,” Lil’ Peach squeals as she clambers off her seat and runs in our direction. The smile lighting up her sweet face has my lips curving at the corners.
I drop Emily’s hand and scoop my niece into my arms when she lunges at me. “Good morning, baby girl,” I say, clutching her small body to my chest.
“I sleepover.”
“I know. I hope you behaved yourself.”
“She was the perfect little angel,” Arabella answers as she passes us with a large tray laden with freshly cooked breakfast pastries. “Come sit.”
I glance over at Romeo when I pull out Emily’s chair and catch him smirking like a motherfucker. I’ve seen him do the same thing for his wife, so I don’t know what his fucking problem is.
Once I sit beside her and get Lil’ Peach settled on my lap, my attention shifts to Dante. That smug fucker is giving me the same look.
I narrow my eyes, flicking my gaze between the two of them, and they both crack up. Figures I’m the butt of their joke again. I swear, if they say one word about how much food I’m about to eat, I’m going to lose my shit.
“Everyone better dig in,” Romeo says, grabbing his fork. “We’ve got about thirty seconds before Dominic wipes out the whole table.”
Dante huffs a laugh. “You’re being generous. I give it fifteen.”
I know I shouldn’t antagonise my boss, but I’ll be fucked if I’m going to let them make me look like a pig. I eat just as much as any other man. I like my food, sue me.
When Dante reaches for a chocolate cornetti, my reflexes move at lightning speed, snagging the entire tray and moving it in front of me.
“The fu … fudge,” he grumbles as his eyes dart from my niece and her impressionable ears up to me.
“I gave you fifteen seconds,” I state. “How’s that saying go, you snooze, you lose.”
“Netti,” Peach squeals as she reaches for one and brings it to her mouth, taking a tiny bite.
Dante stares at the tray in front of me, then slowly leans back in his chair, casually folding his hands behind his head. “You know what, I’m not even mad. That was clean.”
Romeo snorts, shaking his head. “Clean? He just robbed you in broad daylight.”
“Yeah,” Dante shoots back as his eyes narrow on his underboss and best friend, “and you’re supposed to be my right-hand man. You just sat there and watched it happen.”
The room falls deathly silent for a beat before Lucia laughs, followed by Emily, and suddenly the whole table cracks up, everyone losing it while I stuff an entire cornetti into my mouth like I didn’t just commit a crime against the don of our outfit.
After breakfast, we left the women and children in the kitchen and headed into Dante’s office to talk business.
There’s no question I’ve become part of their inner circle, but I’m usually not privy to the personal meetings between the boss and his underboss, so I’m honoured they trust me enough to be here.
I feel lighter today for some reason. I know a big part of that is Emily, but it’s also these people. The Famiglia has not only become a huge part of my life, but for the first time in years, I feel like I actually belong.
It’s like a sense of calmness has replaced the usual noise that runs rampant in my head.
I’m not used to it because I’ve never had anything steady enough to trust. Growing up, things always seemed temporary—different houses, different rules, and people who never stuck around long enough to matter.
You learn quick not to get comfortable when everything you have can be taken without a second thought.
This, however, has the makings of something permanent. Like I’m setting down roots and carving out a place for me and Lil’ Peach with Emily by our side.
It’s been one night, so I’m not going to get ahead of myself, but I’ll do everything in my power to make this thing between us last. I’ve spent so long surviving alone that I know a good thing when I see it. I’m ready to build something worth holding on to.
When Dante is done, he stands from behind his desk, buttoning his suit jacket.
He’s always impeccably dressed. It’s crazy to me how he seems comfortable wearing a suit day in and day out.
I hate those fucking things. The tight collars, the stiff cuffs, and how the tailored material feels like it’s slowly trying to choke you every time you move.
I can count on one hand how many times I’ve worn one in my lifetime. I’m glad my position within the Cosa Nostra doesn’t require fancy attire.
“Did Emily tell you she’s going back to work at La Riviera?” Dante asks, tugging down his cuffs and pulling me out of my own head.
“No. When?”
“You can blame his wife,” Dante replies, flicking his chin towards Romeo. “She’s the one who told her she could.”
My gaze snaps to Romeo, and his hands fly up in front of him. “It has nothing to do with me, mate. Emily told Lucia yesterday that she wanted to return to work. Take it up with your own woman.”
Usually, I’d counter with she’s not my woman, but I’ve claimed her in front of all of them, so it’s a bit late for that now.
“And you’re okay with this?” I ask Dante.
He lifts one shoulder. “It was only temporary anyway. The threat is gone, so I don’t see the harm.”
Romeo grips my shoulder as he heads toward the door. “It’s what she wants, big boy. Pick your battles. If you want my advice, grin and bear it. Don’t fuck things up between the two of you before they’ve even started.”
“If I were you, I’d listen to his wise words,” Dante says. “Have you ever heard the expression, happy wife, happy life?”
“She isn’t my wife,” I deadpan.
“Not yet,” Romeo says, pausing in the doorway and smirking. “Take it from us, keep her happy because the alternative ain’t pretty.”
I follow them down the hallway, pondering their words. I’m not opposed to Emily working, if it’s what she wants, but I’ve gotten used to having her around. Long hours mean absence.
My mind is scrambling when we enter the kitchen. We find the women sitting around the dining room table, deep in conversation. Lil’ Peach is perched on Emily’s lap, and Lucia and Arabella are both nursing their own children. The sight squeezes something in my chest.
For someone who fought so much to keep others at bay, I’m now craving that family unit. I want it so badly I can almost taste it.
Dante is the first to approach the table, lifting Caterina, his daughter, into his arms and kissing her cheek. “What’s all this?” he asks his wife as he glances down at the notepad in front of her.
“We’re getting things organised for the church Christmas hampers. Emily’s joining our team, so between the three of us, we’re planning to go bigger and better than last year.”
My eyes dart to Emily. Christmas is six weeks away. Does this mean she’s sticking around? That thought relaxes me somewhat.
Lucia balances her son, Gabe, with one arm while scrolling through her phone with the other. “We’re thinking free rides and showbags for the kids,” she says. “We can set it up on that big vacant block across from the church.”
Dante frowns. “You’ll need council approval for that. And public liability insurance.”
“Then you’d better get onto it, big bro,” she quips. “We don’t have much time.”
I press my lips together to hide a smile when his head jerks back, caught off guard by the order. “Me?” he growls.
Lucia finally looks up from her screen. “Yeah, you. Slip a fat envelope to whoever you need to and make it happen,” she replies, calm as anything. She’s probably the only person who can get away with talking to him like that. “It’s what you do, right?”
“I do more than bribe people, Lucia.”
“Sure,” she says, unfazed. “But it’s hardly new territory for you, so I don’t see the issue.”
Our impromptu breakfast with the Mancini’s turned into lunch as well. I love everything Emily makes for us, but the spread the Rossi sisters offer is something else. Complete overkill, but I’m not complaining.
I’m well and truly stuffed as I exit through the towering wrought iron gates of Mancini estate and pull onto the street.
Emily returning to La Riviera is still forefront in my mind, and I know this is a conversation we need to have now that we’re together.
“You okay?” Emily asks. “You look stressed.”
I pause, giving myself a moment to speak. The old me would rant, rave and want to smash things, but Emily needs the same softness I afford my niece.
“Dante said you’re going back to work at La Riviera,” I say eventually.
“Oh.” She shifts in her seat, a little uncomfortable. “Lucia said she’d talk to him, but I didn’t realise she already had.”
“Is that what you want?” I ask, even though I already know the answer.
“I miss working with Massimo, Sonia and some of the others.”
“Fair enough.”
“I’ll still be able to look after Lil’ Peach when I’m not at the restaurant.”
“And what happens if something comes up while you’re working?” It’s a shitty thing to say. She never actually agreed to be Lil’ Peach’s babysitter. I pushed that onto her.
“Lucia said she can cover for me when I can’t. Arabella offered too, if it comes to that.”
Right. She’s thought it through. “Is this about money?” I ask, my grip tightening on the steering wheel.
“I need money, Dominic.”
I clear my throat. “Is mine not enough?”
“I don’t want your money. I’ve told you that.”
“I pay you for looking after Peach.”
“And every time you throw those hundreds at me, I try to give them back,” she says. “I love that little girl. You don’t need to pay me to spend time with her. It’s an honour.”
She loves Lil’ Peach. I don’t know why that lands so hard, but it does. I always thought I’d be all she ever had. Turns out I was wrong.
Does she love me too?
Somewhere along the way, I decided I was defective. Unlovable even.
When you grow up being passed from one home to the next, constantly being let down and overlooked, it leaves a mark.
“I can’t keep living off you. It makes me feel like a freeloader. You gave me a place to live. You bought me new furniture. You won’t even let me contribute.”
“You cook and clean for us, Emily. That counts for something. More than fucking room and board, if you ask me.”
“I do those things because I want to, Dom,” she says, turning in her seat and reaching out to place her hand on my thigh. “Not for anything else. I don’t need to be paid for doing something I love … for looking after people I care about.”
She said ‘people’, not ‘someone’, so I too must fit into this equation.
I scrub my hand down my face again, then place it on top of hers. This whole situation is giving me a fucking headache. “Ugh,” I grumble.
“I want to forge my own way, but that doesn’t mean I can’t do it with you and Peach by my side. Does that make sense?”
I lift one shoulder. “I guess.”
“I feel like I’ve wasted most of my adult life making one poor choice after another.
” Her pretty blue eyes flicker to me. “Present company excluded, of course,” she adds, making me smile.
She slumps into her seat with a sigh. “I had such big dreams when I was a teenager. I wanted to be somebody, but I haven’t quite made it yet. ”
As soon as those words are out of her mouth, I veer over to the side of the road, coming to a screeching stop and placing the car into park. “Look,” I start as I remove my seatbelt and turn to face her.
She looks quietly terrified. “What?” She squeaks, clutching her chest.
“You want to be somebody when you get older? Are you fucking kidding me, Emily?” I reach across the centre console and grasp hold of her shoulders.
“You are somebody, mia tortina. Are you hearing me?” My grip softens, but I don’t let go.
“You’re everything, don’t ever doubt that.
Capisci (Understand)?” When tears rise to her eyes, and she nods, I lean forward, pulling her into my chest. “You are everything, Emily Ashford.” I place my lips on her golden locks.
“Every-fucking-thing. The best thing to ever happen to me and Lil’ Peach. ”