Chapter 40
Chapter Forty
Leon
“You wanted to talk?”
My dad faces me, sitting on the non-working side of my desk, despite being fully entitled to take my seat if he wanted to.
He’s far too relaxed today for having something pressing to discuss.
He ate breakfast with the kids too leisurely for me to be worried about an emergency of any kind, or some sort of tragic news to be delivered.
He’s stopped by on short notice before, of course.
I may be an Underboss in charge of my chunk of his territory but it’s still his territory.
If he wanted to, he could kick me out of my role completely and put one of my brothers in my place.
I have a high, respectable rank and endless responsibilities, but when it comes to hierarchy, there’s no top further than my father.
At least within The Outfit. And The Outfit is the only standard we care about.
“I did,” he confirms, dipping his head as he crosses an ankle over his knee. “But now I think I’d like to hear how you’re doing first. Things seem especially cozy around here. I’m glad to see it.”
Dante Moretti couldn’t give less of a fuck about silly personal information about the vast majority of people’s lives. But when it comes to his family? He’s a meddling old bitty.
“Things are going well,” I agree with a grunt. “The boys love her, and she’s become a part of the family much faster than I could have imagined.” Or hoped for.
“And a puppy.” He lifts a brow. “Leo tells me that was your doing.”
“The boys wanted one,” I reply, lifting my shoulders. “I can’t deny them anything.”
Dad chuckles. “A hereditary trait, I think.”
More than likely.
“Katya is a nice woman,” he continues, leaving me room to stop him if I want.
“I wasn’t sure how I felt about your methods going into this match.
Marrying so soon after Cleo, and making it a strategic match rather than seeking a love match.
I was worried that it may go badly, but it appears you picked wisely, my son. ”
“It’s still early,” I reply, a hint of warning in my tone. “The kids don’t know anything has changed between Katya and I. I wouldn’t even know how to begin to explain that to them.”
“It won’t be as complicated as you might think,” Dad offers, tilting his head.
“They’re smart boys, and they understand that you’re married.
They just never experienced seeing what a typical marriage looks like because Cleo didn’t want the affectionate side of things.
They see their aunts and uncles, though.
They’ll understand if you just expose them to it gradually.
They’ll probably be thrilled, Leon. They adore her, and seeing her happy will only make them happier.
I don’t think it will be long before they start associating her as a mother figure. ”
Cleo wanted that for them, to have someone to be their mom while she couldn’t.
She refused to die without my promise to give them someone to rely on in her place, and a part of me feels strange when I think about it.
Katya agreed to this marriage for them, and I was completely open about what I needed from her.
But now that feelings are growing between us, I almost feel like I’ve used her.
Overthinking is a downfall of too many people, though. And I refuse to allow it to be mine. If Katya expresses feeling any sort of negative emotions toward me or how we came to be, I’ll face it head on. But I can’t invent problems where there aren’t any just to make things harder on myself.
“Maybe,” I agree absently. “I feel like she’s been here longer than she has.
The days move slower, and every moment feels like it lasts longer.
Even when I’m not here, I’m seeing more of the boys than I ever did before.
She sends me pictures and videos of them without even being asked, and she doesn’t make me feel like shit when I have things to deal with outside of the house. ”
The corners of Dad’s mouth crinkle, smile lines forming smoothly. They’re one of the few signs of his advanced age, the man looking unreasonable fit and young for being alive for fifty-three years and fathering ten fucking kids.
“Speaking of work, I think it’s time that you make a move and deal with Ezio and Sara. We have permission from their superiors, and if we let them get away with their crimes for much longer, we may appear weak rather than strategic.”
My immediate urge to protest is quickly clamped down by folding my lips in.
My father doesn’t often get involved with my side of the business, but when he does, it’s for a good reason.
He’s been doing this for his entire life, trained by his father before him, and the men who helped create this Empire that we rule.
If he says that the time to deal with Cleo’s vile parents has come, then he’s probably right.
“Did you hear something new?” I ask tightly.
“Nothing we weren’t already prepared to hear. Whispers are never-ending, and they don’t fully quiet until you’ve silenced the source. People need to know what happens when you talk about the Moretti family, especially about Moretti children.”
“I know that.” My fists tighten on top of my desk, not flexing in anger at my father, but rather frustration at this entire situation.
“People questioning Leo’s legitimacy makes my blood fucking boil.
We never denied that he was adopted, and no one should have had an issue with it because he’s not my heir.
And even if he was, that would be my decision.
If I only ever adopted children and made them into Morettis, they’d still be Morettis.
Our word is law, and it pissed me the fuck off that anyone dares—”
Cutting myself off, I shake my head and clear my throat before anger turns into a more uncontrollable emotion.
“They’re effectively calling him a bastard.
A baby born from an affair who I somehow was able to part with for three years of his fucking life.
What kind of monster could do that? And to know that the rumors were created by the people who should be his fucking grandparents… it makes me fucking sick.”
“I don’t blame you for being angry.”
“And Katya,” I exclaim. “They drag the sweetest woman into this because she was brave enough to take a chance on marrying me and becoming a part of our life. She moved to a completely unfamiliar territory with no friends, no family, and no safety net. She married a man she hardly knew just to help him take care of his young kids and she did it all without protest. So to hear her name being dragged around in the mud like she’s a mistress who’s been lurking in the shadows for years. Just, fuck!”
“You haven’t told her, have you?” Dad asks, not judging, but understanding. He doesn’t even need to hear an explanation from me to understand why I haven’t filled my wife in yet. The fact that the rumors haven’t gotten back to her family and made it to her is a fucking miracle at this point.
Well, a miracle I’ve tried quite hard to make happen.
Not just to keep the lies from Katya’s ears, but to keep them from spreading in general.
It hasn’t taken the mafia underground society by storm yet, and part of me thinks that’s mostly thanks to people knowing better than talking shit about the Moretti family.
Sometimes, no matter how juicy you think a piece of gossip could be to share, you’d rather keep it to yourself than risk being heard spreading it.
“I’m going to,” I tell him, fully meaning it.
“I just wanted to have it more under control before I tell her. I don’t want her to worry about something while it’s happening.
She’ll probably be sad to hear it when I finally let her know, but at least I’ll be able to tell her that it’s handled when I do.
It shouldn’t keep her up at night that way, I hope. ”
Dad hums, drumming his fingers on his thigh. “Well, it’s not like it needs to be finished tonight. I came here to advise you to act soon, but it doesn’t need to be now. In fact, I think you should use my being here to your advantage in a completely different way.”
I give him a questioning look and he rolls his eyes, as if it should be obvious.
“Take your wife out on a date, Son. Leave me with the kids, and go romance your woman. It’ll be good for them to see you taking her out all dressed up.”
See, meddler.
“It’s nice of you to offer, but—”
“I could order, if you want,” he cuts in sternly. “Take off for an early dinner in a few hours. Go dancing or to see a movie that isn’t about cartoon characters. Do something to make you feel like an adult man for once, Leon.”
I hesitate, not wanting to take time away from his day.
For all I know, he had a whole list of things to do after coming to speak with me.
But honestly, everything we’ve just communicated could have been done over the phone.
Which leads me to believe my father missed my children and made this trip as an excuse to see them.
Or hell, maybe he missed me. He’s getting sentimental in his old age.
“You sure you won’t mind? They might pout about not being invited out.”
“They have a puppy, they’ll get over it,” Dad counters.
“You’re not wrong.”
“I never am.”
“Okay, that’s a stretch.”
He leans forward in challenge. “Is it?”
Dramatic, sentimental old man.
Despite my hesitation to accept my father’s offer at first, it quickly becomes clear that he nailed exactly what I needed to quell my moodiness from our work discussion.
Just seeing the glee that lit up my wife’s face when I invited her out was enough to know that my father sometimes knows best. I couldn’t exactly get her roses to offer her with my proposal with such little time to prepare, but she was thrilled to be asked, even by her empty-handed husband.
I’d expected Leo and Bastian to pout about being left at home while Daddy and Katya went out, but they were more excited for us than anything else.
Leo demanded to help Katya choose a pretty dress when she worried that she might not have an appropriate choice.
A process that seemed to tickle them both pink.
And with my assurance that I wouldn’t spring a formal dinner on her with no notice, she enjoyed the process rather than fretting over if she had an elegant enough dress.
I briefly debated taking her somewhere to buy her a new dress for the date before driving us to the restaurant I had in mind, but I didn’t want her to think I needed her dripping in designer gowns to take her out.
Frankly, I would take her out in her pajamas if I could guarantee no one would see her aside from myself.
Katya could wear a potato sack and still look like a supermodel.
Still, if I’ve learned anything from my sisters, it’s that women like to feel beautiful, not just be told that they are beautiful.
So waiting several hours for my wife to get ready to go out with me is nothing to complain about as far as I’m concerned.
It’s not like I’m a child who can’t find some way to entertain myself whilst I stand by.
And as much as I think she looks gorgeous twenty-four seven, it’s nice to see her radiating with a confident glow, sitting across the private dining table from me. The candlelight between us only makes her more radiant.
“This is so fun,” she tells me giddily, flipping through the menu slowly.
“We’ve hardly done anything,” I counter, chuckling as I do the same. “We just got here, baby.”
“Ugh, I know.” She clicks her nails on the table, tapping like she’s bursting with excitement. “But it’s so nice, isn’t it? Getting dressed up and going out together? I feel floaty and gleeful like a kid on Christmas. Or more like, Mommy and Daddy going out on Christmas Eve.”
Mommy and Daddy.
Fucking hell.
Unlike when she first called the kids our boys, Katya doesn’t try to cover her comment like it’s a mistake. And it isn’t one.
“Well, we have more than just dinner to look forward to, unless you start missing the kids too much and want to go home.” Or if you get bored of me.
“How’d you know I would miss them?” she asks with a sweet purse of her lips. “I think if they weren’t with their papa who they love so much, I’d feel guilty for leaving them behind.”
“It’s a parent thing,” I reply honestly. “Anything you do for yourself makes you wonder if you’re selfish for enjoying time away from them. You’re not, by the way. It’s good for them to spend time with family outside of us, even if we’ll miss them.”
“Well, I plan on enjoying this date for as long as you’ll have me,” Katya says, lifting her chin confidently. “Spending time with you has never made me feel anything other than good, moja láska.”
“You said that last night,” I point out, catching the familiar but unrecognizable Slovak words. “What is it? Another nickname?”
She blushes and looks down at her menu. “Of sorts.”
I wait for her to clarify, and she doesn’t.
“I think I’m going to keep that one to myself for a little bit longer, if that’s all right with you…”
Interested but willing to wait, I nod.
“Keep your secrets, cuore mio, and I’ll keep mine.”
She gives me a wicked smile, dipping her head in agreement.
It takes me a minute to remember that I can’t keep my secret because she knows exactly what I just called her. My heart. Her speaking Italian is a blessing and a curse, since I can’t get away with calling her anything without her mentally translating it.
I should really try and pick up some Slovak to make it fair.