Chapter 43 Emily
Emily
Igently lift Dominic’s arm from where it is anchored around my waist and shimmy to the side of the bed.
I don’t get far before he snags hold of me, dragging me back. “Where are you going?” he grumbles in that sexy morning voice of his I’ve come to love.
“I need to get in the shower.”
“I thought you had the day off?”
“From La Riviera, yes, but I told Arabella I’ll be at her place by nine.”
“You were there half the night.”
“Making Italian biscuits. This morning, we need to package them ready to go in the hampers.”
“Ugh,” he groans. “Between the restaurant and this stupid Christmas charity shit, I’ve barely seen you.”
I turn in his arms, place a chaste kiss on his lips, then playfully slap his bare chest. “It’s not stupid. What she’s doing is wonderful. Giving back to the community—”
“Fine, it’s not stupid,” he retorts, nuzzling his face into the crook of my neck. “But it’s keeping you away from us. It’s Christmas Eve, cupcake. Shouldn’t we be staying home, listening to carols, and wrapping presents or some shit?”
I burst out laughing. “You want to listen to Christmas carols?”
His lips form a thin line. “I was thinking you and Lil’ Peach could … you know, while I mowed the lawns, or something.”
“Just as I thought,” I say, narrowing my eyes. “And as for the presents, they are already wrapped and under the tree.”
This is the first year Peach has had a Christmas tree in the house. She was bursting with excitement when we put it up last week.
I’ll admit my OCD was twitching when she hung most of the decorations in small clusters on one side, but I somehow managed to resist the urge to rearrange them once she went to bed.
“Come with me to the Mancini’s. I’m sure we can find something for you to do.”
He chuckles. “Nice try, but I’ve already been roped in to loading and unloading the trucks with Dante and Romeo this afternoon.”
“Our sweet girl is going to have the best time today. With rides, showbags, and facepainting.” He draws back slightly and smirks. “What?”
“You just referred to Lil’ Peach as ‘ours’.”
“Oh,” I reply, dipping my face. I know technically she isn’t mine, but it feels like she is.
“Hey,” he says, gripping my chin and tilting my eyes back to his. “I love that you think that. That little girl is lucky to have someone like you in her corner.”
For a man who barely said more than a grunt when we met, he always seems to know exactly what to say to ease all the doubts that creep in.
He leans in, brushing his mouth lightly against mine. “I’m lucky to have you too, mia tortina,” he murmurs against my lips. “And not a day passes that I’m not grateful to call you mine.”
As I predicted, Peach is having the best time. I’m currently snapping photos of her on the bouncy castle. She demolished an entire stick of pink fairy floss as soon as we arrived, followed by a snow cone, so she’s still riding a full-blown sugar high.
Her sweet face is painted with a glittery, colourful butterfly, and she’s wearing her pink ballerina tutu over her clothes.
As soon as they arrived, I raised an eyebrow when I saw how she was dressed.
Dominic gave me that ‘don’t ask’ look, and I couldn’t help but smile.
That girl has him wrapped around her little finger.
I drop my arm and lean in towards Dominic. “Are there any public bathrooms around here?”
“Behind the church. Do you want me to come with you?”
“No,” I say, passing him my phone. “Stay and watch Peach. I’ll be back in a few minutes.”
I jog across the road and head down the side of the church, past the manicured gardens, rounding the back of the building. I inwardly groan when I see the short line. I shouldn’t have held on so long, but I’ve been busy helping and watching Peach have the time of her life.
This is apparently their third year doing this, and the crowds have grown considerably each time.
I love how they give back. The rise in the cost of living has made things unattainable for some, so seeing people’s faces light up when they received hampers and Christmas meats was really heartwarming.
I’m not na?ve enough to think there isn’t a dark side to the mob—I know there is. But being here today, helping hand out food and seeing kids having a great time, it’s hard to hold onto that thought. Christmas is all about giving, and the Cosa Nostra has gone above and beyond.
After I use the restroom and step over to the sink to wash my hands, I’m so focused on what I’m doing that I don’t register someone beside me until they grab my wrist.
“I thought it was you,” she says through gritted teeth.
My stomach drops the second I hear her voice. When I turn my head, my inkling is confirmed. Daisy. King’s wife. The President of the Steel Reapers. AKA, my worst nightmare.
Her grip tightens as she shoves me back against the wall, invading my space. “I’m not exactly surprised to find you hanging around a church with that squeaky clean, fucking soul of yours, but I’m curious why you’re suddenly in with the Mafia. And where the fuck is Muzzle?”
“W-we broke up,” I stammer.
“Don’t lie to me, cunt, or I’ll gut you like a fish where you stand.”
“I’m not,” I say, tugging my hand out of her grip.
Her eyes narrow. “Why are you here?”
“The Cosa Nostra own the restaurant where I work, and I’m friends with the wife of the underboss.”
Technically, that isn’t a lie. I just don’t mention Dominic. I’m not about to drag him into this. My gut tells me he has something to do with Mick’s disappearance, but I’ve yet to get confirmation of that.
Her gaze drags over my face, searching for something to latch onto, but I don’t give her anything else. I’ve probably already said too much.
“I don’t believe you.”
“It’s the truth,” I say, brushing past her and heading for the door.
I half expect her to come at me from behind, grab me again and drag me back. But the moment I step outside, relief hits hard when I find Dominic waiting with Lil’ Peach in his arms.
As soon as his eyes lock on me, he frowns. “You okay?” he asks, his eyes flicking to the building I just exited.
I plaster a fake smile on my face as I reach for his free hand. “I’m fine,” I lie. “Just tired.”
“So is this little one,” he says, tilting his head towards Peach, who’s resting her butterfly-covered cheek against his broad shoulder.
I gently rub my hand over her back. “Are you tired, sweet girl?”
She nods, sucking her thumb, which is a telltale sign.
Dominic’s eyes move to me. “You want to split?”
I nod. “Sure.”
The last thing I want to do is hang around here after being accosted by Daisy.
We make our way down to the others and say our goodbyes before heading to the car.
I climb into the passenger seat while Dominic straps Lil’ Peach into her booster. My eyes don’t stop moving, scanning, searching … waiting. I can’t seem to settle; the knot in my stomach is pulling tighter by the second.
I haven’t felt this panicked since I fled Mick. It feels like something is about to go wrong, and I’m the only one who notices.
I don’t see Daisy again until we pull into traffic. She’s standing beside a tree at the edge of the road, staring straight at me.