5. Liam
5
LIAM
O livia’s baby babbles woke me. Her sounds had been my alarm clock for less than a week. Before her, I was wired to get up per military time. Since coming home with no direction but to somehow force myself to be a father, my sense of time was all out of whack.
My sense of identity was an even sorrier state. I didn’t know which end was up anymore, but I was well aware of the concept that sleeping in would forever be a joke with Olivia in my life.
“Hang on.” I yawned as I rubbed more sleep from my eyes. “Hang on,” I mumbled to her as I opened my eyes.
Last night was a blur after fucking Eva in that closet. At first, pure shock took hold of me that I’d actually done that. That I’d dragged the Mafia diva into a fucking closet, said all those wicked things to her, and rammed into her like that.
She ran out, and instead of chasing her, I got another drink then asked around where Danicia was. A helpful butler-like man had given me directions. Not only was Olivia sleeping in a guest room where Danicia sat in a chair and watched stand-up comedy acts on her phone, doing her best not to laugh too loudly while she babysat, but they’d also brought up the three duffel bags of my clothes and Olivia’s things.
“Hmm.” Danicia had given me a clinical once-over when she saw me. “I expect you might be hungover in the morning, so it’s just as well I had some things set in the kitchenette over there.” She pointed at the counter in the other corner of the room.
I wasn’t wasted, but buzzed. Although whether that was from Eva or the alcohol, I couldn’t tell.
“Hydrate,” she advised as she moved toward the door. “I’ll check on you two tomorrow.”
I nodded, glad for her help. Some dad I was, letting a virtual stranger watch over my baby. I had a good sense about her, though. She seemed intelligent and trustworthy, and I appreciated her eagerness to assist me in something I felt like I was lacking in.
“If you’ll be sticking around, we can set her up for a pediatric checkup, too,” she said before she left me.
Now, though, in the morning light, I wondered if Olivia and I would be hanging around for a while. Or at all.
“Good morning,” I told Olivia.
She sat in the crib-like bed, peering up at me like she wasn’t sure who to expect. After thirteen months of only seeing her mother or the daycare owner, I was a big change. Maybe after last night, she wanted to see Danicia again.
“Or maybe it’s not a good morning,” I grumbled. Trying to keep a smile on my face, I willed my hangover headache to go away as I reached for her. If I could figure out a natural hold, how to actually carry her without it looking and feeling awkward, I bet I’d be minimally more confident about this fatherhood thing.
But I wasn’t. I was an only child, raised by my grandparents. I didn’t have younger cousins or anyone with babies to be near. Tessa was my childhood friend, but I never knew her when she was too young. I was woefully unprepared, but I made sure Olivia was secure in my arms as I walked over to the kitchenette.
“Water for me. Milk for you?” The daycare owner who watched over Olivia until I arrived said that she liked to listen to her talk. Just rambling, or even talking to herself. Hearing people talk was a distraction she swore by, but I wasn’t sure when I’d get used to it. I seldom vocalized my thoughts for myself, and doing so now was weird.
“Yeah?” I asked, looking down into her innocent blue eyes. “Milk?”
“Ba-ba.” Her small hand patted my chest, and I smiled.
“Bottle?”
She repeated the babble faster, likely her best attempt of saying bottle . Once I grabbed it out of the small fridge, she took it and quickly drank.
“I’ll get my own,” I quipped as I snatched a water bottle. Last night, I had too many of the wrong bottles and glasses, but I was sure that water and some painkillers would erase the remnants of how much I drank.
But not her.
I sat on the couch, letting Olivia lean against me as she had her milk. Stretching back slightly, I yawned again and tried to shove away the thoughts of Eva that trickled in too quickly. Now that I revisited what I’d done last night, I struggled to banish her from my mind.
I’d slept with countless women over the years, but I’d never, ever done something like that. A quickie during a party where I knew next to no one. Calling a woman a slut and being so bossy.
But she liked it.
That was the kicker. Eva had seemed to get hotter and go wild when I degraded her and scolded her about being a brat, diva, and slut.
I drank my water, marveling at how… intense it was. She’d pushed and poked at me so much that I’d snapped. All night, since meeting her, I'd struggled with her antagonistic attitude. That give-and-take nature that formed between us was exciting, and it culminated so quickly in the most final way possible.
With my dick deep inside her warm pussy.
Shit. I rubbed my face and groaned. I’ve got to stop thinking about her. It was done. It was over. Short and sexy. That would be the end of my moment with Eva because there was no way in hell she’d give me her attention again. Not with the way she ran out as soon as we’d come.
Olivia stopped drinking and looked at me. I blinked and stared down at her, unsure whether I should talk or what.
Her bottle, now mostly empty, dropped to her lap as she reached up both hands and rubbed over my face. Starting at my jaw, she pushed her tiny fingers up to my cheek, then back down. She saw me rub my face, and now she thought to do the same.
My lips curled up in a smile, and she did the same, babbling and moving on to patting my cheeks.
As we connected, as I let her touch my face and play, I forgot about my water bottle. It tipped, spilling over my lap and hers. Splashing up into her face was all it took to startle her, not to mention the cold liquid seeping into her clothes.
“Shit. Okay. Okay. Let’s clean up.” I stood, holding her out so water could drip down. Already, she was fussing and crying, unhappy about being wet and cold. “Sorry. I wasn’t paying attention.” I brought her over to the bed, holding her against me as I searched for her bag.
She’d need new clothes and whatnot. I’d brought all that she had, but it didn’t seem like a lot. Pamela seemed to be a minimalist sort of woman. “Crunchy” was how the daycare owner described her, preferring few toys, simple clothes, and the least amount of traditional baby gear as possible. As I rooted through the bag of Olivia’s things, I hated that the smaller bag inside it that held dirty clothes surpassed what was left in the clean pile.
“You need some more things, kid,” I told her as I set her on the bed.
I’d asked the daycare owner how to change a diaper when I picked her up, and even that had been a crash course. Googling didn’t help much. Watching a tutorial on someone changing a plastic doll was not the same as the hands-on experience of changing a real baby’s diaper.
Not to mention getting arms and legs in the right holes.
And a live infant’s fussiness.
“Okay. There.” The moment I got her in new clothes, I picked her up and held her close while I carried the dirty diaper to the trash. But it seemed she didn’t want to be held. “No good?” I asked of her squirming and fussing to get down. “Okay. Now what?” I set her on the floor, watching her crawl and explore.
I nodded and gestured at her to go crawl and explore. “All right. Have fun.” Until I could talk to Tessa again and start thinking about where to go and what to do for my and Olivia’s future, I’d need to get dressed and figure out how to gather more necessities for her. Clothes, bottles, food, other baby things.
Keeping an eye on Olivia pulling up and walking along the bed and other things in the room, I got dressed and laughed when she plopped onto the carpet. “Not as easy as it looks, huh?” I teased of her trying to take more than a couple of independent steps from whatever she’d pulled up to walk along. She didn’t stop, though, determined to get up over and over and keep trying. Once she mastered the balance of walking independently, she’d take off. I was sure of it.
Maybe I’ll adjust easier when she’s less of a baby and more of a child? I’d never envisioned myself as a dad. While this was all new and I worried I’d struggle to adjust every single day, I was glad that I didn’t have to figure out how to be an impromptu parent of an even younger baby.
“Let’s go see if we can find Tessa.” I picked her up, glad that she didn’t protest being held again. When I left the room without her pacifier, she smacked at me and I doubled back, recalling the daycare owner’s advice to always have one with her.
Walking through this enormous house felt strange. Last night, I was caught up in the whirlwind of meeting the Constella family members and trying to catch up with Tessa. And fucking Eva. Now, in the light of the day without a party held elsewhere in the mansion, it was too quiet. Like we were trespassing, not seeking out my friend. Like I was a soldier on a covert mission to gather intel about a Mafia boss.
Because this is the Mafia’s home. I grimaced at the reminder. My ability to navigate the grayness of this situation wouldn’t happen quickly. While I would stand by Tessa and make sure she was happy and safe, I wasn’t sure I could look the other way with the knowledge that she’d gotten involved with a crime boss.
I turned a corner, wondering if Tessa might be eating breakfast in this huge kitchen-like area or if there was another one somewhere in this maze of a building. The scents of sausage and pancakes filled the air, and Olivia reacted.
“Hmmm. Hmmm.” She rubbed her little tummy, too, grinning that she smelled something good.
I laughed lightly as we finally found someone. It seemed that everyone was sleeping in—except the boss.
“Morning,” Dante said from the stove. He smiled at Olivia. “You smell the pancakes.”
She clapped her hands together, bouncing in my arms.
“Morning.” Weird. I hadn’t personally spent much time with criminal masterminds. I fought in the field, but I wasn’t in a ranking to see through one-on-one conversations with leaders. Dante had to be an enemy simply because of the title he held. He was a Mafia boss. But it was strange to see him cooking where he’d have staff to handle it.
He lost his smile for Olivia and frowned at me. Hesitating, as though he wanted to say something, he looked between us.
“What?” Immediately, my guards went up. I didn’t trust this man. And I didn’t like how he regarded me.
“Can I show you something?” He set the spatula down on the counter and approached.
“Show me what?” I asked.
“How to hold her.” He raised his brows as he held his hands out. This gruff Mafia lord wanted to educate me. With holding a baby.
Olivia must not have noticed the tension between me and the older man. While he smiled at her again, she thrust her arms out to go to him. Annoyance filled me that she’d be so trusting of a smiling face. This man had to be a killer. A gangster. God knew what else. I was hung up on the labels and didn’t have any reason to trust him—yet.
“Keep one arm over the center of her movements, her hips.” Dante held Olivia propped against his side. “And she’ll follow how your body moves.” He lifted his free hand to grab a mug of coffee and drink it. “Far easier than always holding her with both arms.”
I nodded, hating how natural he looked.
“Father to father,” Dante added as he handed her back.
“Thanks.” Whatever. I was sure I’d figure it out on my own eventually. I wasn’t a moron.
“Do you think you can set aside whatever biases and judgments you’ve already formed of me long enough to eat breakfast?” He resumed his spot at the stove, working on the food again.
“I’m not used to associating with the enemy,” I said.
He nodded, unbothered. “Noted, Soldier. But the last I checked, the Army didn’t have me on their wanted list.”
I sat at the island after putting Olivia on the floor to crawl again. Damn, she was fast, but I could multitask in watching her and talking with this man. “The Army might not. But the FBI and CIA?”
Dante shrugged.
“I’m not sure I like the idea of my friend getting involved with a criminal organization.”
He arched a brow. “I doubt your opinion would stand between my son and his fiancée.”
Dammit. I worried about that too.
“If you could be patient to consider why and how my son met your friend, you might reconsider.” He looked at me without any pressure to kowtow to his claim. “In the meantime, help yourself. Nina has specific cravings.” He grimaced at the plate of pancakes with pickles on top, all greasy with butter and syrup. “But there is plenty for you and Olivia.”
She found him, pulling up to his pants leg. I watched as he stepped away from the stove to pick her up and show her the food.
“Want a bite?” he asked her, also using a sign language gesture to pair his words. “Can you say please?”
“Peas,” she replied.
Holy shit. I didn’t even know the extent of her vocabulary yet. But he could guess. I couldn’t help but be impressed.
I wouldn’t mistake this man for anything but the crime lord he was, but I had to consider him in a new light. Unlike me, he was at ease holding a baby. He was generous in offering her food as he cut a small bit of pancake from another plate. He knew how to make it a small bite, then let her hold the utensil with his help so she wouldn’t jam it into her mouth.
He was a Mafia lord, but also a generous host. And a father offering me simple advice.
Sometimes… not everything is black and white. Not everything is cut and dry.
And more often than not, looks could be deceiving. I had no doubts the older man holding my daughter and offering her food was a deadly killer, but it seemed that wasn’t all he was.
“More, please?” he asked her as she made grabby hands for the fork. He did the sign language again. He glanced at me. “Can she have more?”
I nodded. “We haven’t eaten yet.”
“Help yourself,” he offered again before showing Olivia how to sign for more please . I watched, curious and guarded, as she figured out the gesture. I got a plate of food for myself, counting on sharing some with her, too.
“Moe peas,” she said in her little voice.
I smiled as she grinned, happy that Dante gave her another bite.
“You can have as much as you want,” he told her as he brought her back to me. Or maybe he was talking to me.
She settled on my lap, all her focus on the plate of food, and I was quick enough to slide it out of her reach before she smacked her hands on it all.
“Guess it’s not too soon to get the child-proof plates and cutlery out,” Dante quipped as he set Nina’s breakfast on a tray.
Damn. The boss made breakfast himself. He was taking his food to his woman, breakfast in bed. He was at ease with scolding my impatient daughter to ask nicely for another bite.
If I hadn’t already known he was a Mafia man, he could have very well looked like a normal guy caring for those around him.
He left us to eat, and while we did, I struggled with figuring out how to interpret who the Constellas really were. Just a ruthless Mafia organization? Or something else?
Because I could hardly fault Tessa for wanting to marry one of them when I was just as quick to fuck one in a closet.
That was just lust. Nothing more. I rolled my eyes, catching myself thinking of her as I cleaned up Olivia after she was done eating.
I wouldn’t be duped. This wasn’t a hotel. This was a Mafia boss’s home and I’d be wise to keep my guard up.
Including around Eva. I wasn’t sure who we’d run into next and how else someone might surprise me and make me wonder if I was too rash with my opinions of this family.
But it was far too soon to face Eva again.