Chapter Eleven #2
Stefano makes a sound that suspiciously resembles a laugh.
Maverick doesn’t look away from me. “Not yet.”
My face goes hot.
“Subtle,” I mutter.
“I wasn’t trying to be.”
Livy looks between us with delight. “Mama, your face is red.”
“Olivia.”
“It is.”
“Keep walking.”
She grins, then looks back at Maverick. “So why can’t I call you Don?”
“Because Don is not my name, piccola. It’s my title.”
“What’s the difference?”
“My family calls me Don because I lead them. It reminds everyone of my place in this house. My responsibility.”
Livy thinks about that.
“It’s like being the boss?”
“Yes.”
“The big boss?”
Stefano coughs. “Careful. His head is already large enough.”
Maverick ignores him. “Something like that.”
Livy tilts her head. “Then why don’t you want me to call you that?”
Maverick stops walking and crouches in front of her.
“Because I don’t want to be your Don,” he says. “I don’t want you to look at me the way my men do. You’re not part of my business. You’re not part of my responsibilities in that way.”
Livy’s smile softens.
Maverick’s voice lowers. “If I am allowed in your life, I want to be there as Maverick. Or Mav, if you prefer. The man dating your mother. The man who makes you feel safe. The man who will one day grow to love both you and your mama.”
Livy studies him for a long second.
Then she nods. “Okay. Mav.”
His face softens. “Okay, piccola.”
She leans closer and whispers loudly, “But if I become the official Don Livy later, you have to call me Don to show everyone who the boss is.”
Maverick’s mouth twitches. “Of course.”
Stefano bows dramatically. “We would expect nothing less, Don Livy. Now, let’s go eat.”
He hoists Livy over his shoulder again, earning another squeal of laughter before carrying her down the long hall and out of sight.
“I think I need a map to find my way around,” I say as Maverick slowly stands.
“At your service,” he says, smiling down at me.
My pulse trips over itself.
“You said some pretty crazy things just now.”
“Did I?”
“You know you did.” I look toward the hall where Livy disappeared. “You really shouldn’t promise little girls big things unless you know you can keep them.”
“Oh, I plan on keeping my promises, bella,” he says, cupping my face.
My breath catches.
“There are things we need to talk about,” he says. “Things about my life. What it means to be Don. How big my family is.”
“Yeah,” I say softly. “I saw a good bit of that at the fundraiser.”
His mouth curves.
“Oh, my beautiful, silly girl. That wasn’t even the surface.” His thumb brushes my cheek. “This estate is simply my favorite place to stay. Apart from this house, there are many homes we’ve built much further back. Over a hundred people live on this property.”
My eyes widen.
I look down the hall, suddenly aware of every quiet footstep, every guard, every closed door.
“This isn’t your only family?” I whisper.
“No,” he says. “It’s one very small piece of a very large world.”
“How large?”
His expression softens, but his eyes stay serious.
“Thousands of people, Amelia. Across states. Across countries. Families, businesses, alliances, debts, responsibilities. Men who answer when I call. Men who depend on my judgment.”
“Thousands?” I whisper.
“Several thousand.”
Maverick lowers his hand from my face, then carefully places my arm in the crook of his.
“So you see,” he says, guiding me down the hall, “we have much to talk about.”
I glance up at him. “That sounds like an understatement.”
“But make no mistake, baby.” His voice drops, soft and certain. “We are dating.”
My feet nearly forget how to work.
“Maverick.”
“Yes?”
“You can’t just decide that.”
“I didn’t decide alone.” He looks down at me. “You told me last night that today was the date.”
“I meant the date we agreed to meet for lunch,” I say. “I didn’t mean it was a date date. We’re surrounded by people.”
“It’s the beginning of dating.”
“That’s lawyer talk.”
“Correction, bella. That’s Don talk.”
I should argue.
I really should.
Instead, I look at the strong line of his profile, the calm certainty in his face, the arm holding mine like I am something precious.
Then I sigh.
“One date,” I repeat.
His smile is slow.
“For today,” he says. “Tomorrow, we shall have our second and third dates.”
“Two dates on the same day?”
“Of course.” His gaze dips to my mouth. “I need to get to first base as quickly as possible so I can earn the right to kiss you.”
My heart stops.
Then starts again in a far less reasonable rhythm.
“Maverick,” I whisper.
“Yes, bella?”
“You already kissed me.”
His eyes warm.
“That was not a kiss.”
“It felt like a kiss.”
“That was a promise.” He leans closer, his voice dropping low enough to make my knees consider early retirement. “When I kiss you, Amelia, you’ll know the difference.”
Freaking swoon.
There is no other word for it.
No mature thought.
No dignified response.
Just swoon.
All over his fancy marble floor.
“Your daughter knows more about crime families than I do,” Stefano says as we enter the dining room.
A room I can’t begin to describe.
It looks like it belongs in a museum.
The main table alone could seat twenty people, maybe more. Dark wood gleams beneath crystal chandeliers. Tall candles flicker between bowls of lemons, fresh herbs, and flowers arranged so perfectly they look painted. Along one wall, glass doors open to a terrace washed in golden evening light.
I suddenly become very aware of my shoes.
“And that’s saying something,” Stefano adds, “seeing as I grew up in this world.”
“How does she even know about crime families?” Maverick asks.
I can’t help but laugh.
“Thank you,” I say, sitting in the chair Maverick pulls out for me. “Something you should keep in mind about my daughter. When she wants to know something, she’ll stop at nothing until she learns it.”
Livy lifts her chin from a chair a few places down. “Research is important.”
Stefano points at her. “See? Terrifying.”
“I watched documentaries,” she says. “About some movies Mama said I was too young for, but I only saw parts because the videos online didn’t show everything.”
My head snaps toward her. “Olivia Marie.”
She freezes.
Maverick lowers himself into the chair at the head of the table, right next to mine, his expression far too amused for my comfort.
Livy gives me a careful smile. “I mean… hypothetically?”
“That is not what hypothetically means.”
Stefano reaches for his water glass. “I like her.”
“You would,” Maverick says. “She reminds me of you.”
Rosa enters with two staff members behind her, carrying platters that smell so good I nearly forget my child just confessed to secret crime research.
Nearly.
Livy leans toward Maverick and asks, “Hey, Mav. Do you have a favorite crime family that’s not this one?”
“Piccola,” he says gravely, “As an Italian Don, I’m legally required to say no.”
Stefano chokes on his water.
I knew when I agreed to this not-date that Maverick was head of a crime family.
Did it bother me?
Not nearly as much as it probably should have.
The room suddenly fills with people. They gather around the table, every chair taken within minutes. Staff wait along the wall with platters of food, calm and silent while the family settles in.
“Oh my,” I whisper, feeling instantly overwhelmed.
Maverick leans closer, his voice low enough to hide beneath the chatter. “Are you not concerned that your daughter knows about my family?”
“No,” I admit.
I take a breath and focus on the man beside me instead of the crowded room, the gleaming table, the staff waiting for his signal.
“Should I be sitting here beside you?” I ask. “It seems like a place for someone important.”
“You’re exactly where I want you to be.”
My thoughts stumble.
Well.
All right then.
His gaze stays on mine. “Now tell me why you’re not concerned.”
“For two reasons, really.” I glance toward Livy, who is seated between two of her friends and laughing like she’s been coming here her entire life. “One, everyone in Palm Springs knows what your family is.”
Maverick’s expression doesn’t change as I’m sure he knows this.
“They just don’t care,” I continue. “So no, it doesn’t surprise me that Livy knows. Especially when some of her friends are part of your family.”
“And the second reason?”
I look back at him. “Crime family or not, I’ve seen how you treat your people. Your family.” My voice softens. “The children in your family.”
Something flickers in his eyes.
“I would be perfectly content to let my daughter stay here without me,” I say. “Because I know her safety and well-being would matter to you.”
His face stills.
Completely.
“You would trust me with your daughter’s safety?”
The question is quiet.
There is something deep in his eyes now. Something old and wounded.
I look at Livy again.
She’s laughing at something Stefano says while the staff places plates in front of each person.
Then I look back at Maverick.
“Without hesitation,” I admit.
He shakes his head slightly, like he thinks I’m insane for trusting him.
Maybe I am.
But I do trust him.
Maverick leans down and presses his lips to my temple in a soft, almost reverent kiss.
My breath catches.
Around us, the room keeps moving.
Laughter.
Voices.
The scent of garlic, basil, fresh bread, and something rich simmered in tomatoes.
For one second, all I feel is his mouth against my skin.
Then he pulls back and looks down at his waiting family.
That’s when I realize the entire table’s gone still.
No one has touched their food.
No one has so much as taken a drink.
They’re all waiting for him.
Waiting for the Don.
Maverick’s hand rests lightly at the back of my chair.
His voice carries through the room.
“Eat.”
Just one word, and the whole table moves.
“Wow,” I say softly. “That’s some power you hold. How long would they have waited?”
“Until I gave my word,” Maverick says. “I hate it, but I lost that battle long ago.”
“It’s a respect thing,” the woman beside me says. “We’ve all been taught since birth to honor the Don of the family. During formal meals, that means waiting for his approval before eating.”