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“Roman, kiss me.”
“Baby, don’t worry.”
“Just kiss me.”
I pulled her closer and devoured her mouth, twisting my tongue around hers. For a few seconds there, I didn’t care that people were walking around or that our daughter was only inches away. All I cared about was her – feeling her, loving her the way she deserved. When we broke the kiss, we could barely breathe, and she was making that sharp gasping sound again.
“Hurry up to New York,” I whispered just to her, “so I can fuck you on our bed.”
“I’ll see you on the other side, brown eyes.”
She gave Romina another kiss on the nose and then that was it. We had to go. I’d been without her for six years; another forty-eight hours would be a piece of cake.
Before boarding the plane, I stopped to pick up Romina and looked at Salva one more time. She waved at our daughter and Romina waved back, but I just looked. I looked at my woman and how stunningly beautiful she was. And in a few hours, she’d finally be home.
~~~
Home sweet fucking home. We’d landed late at night, and I felt a sense of contentment washing over me. Portofino was great, but this was my turf. This city was split between my brothers and me. The name Roman Stefani meant power in this city. Here, Roman Stefani was invincible, feared, and respected. It didn’t matter how much Salvatrice hated this side of me, I was mafia. She would be a mafia wife and my daughter would be raised like a princess.
My entire life was about the famiglia, about helping Gino rule his underworld empire. I was brought up to be the voice of his conscience, a right hand to help him rule, but now I had a new purpose. I had Romina. Just like Gino was excited for his son to grow up so he could groom him to be a boss – a real gangster, not those reckless boys who run around town with a gun and a scarf covering their faces – I felt the same about having Romina. Sure, I wouldn’t be raising her to be a mob boss, but I would teach her to be a damn queen. And maybe a lawyer. A badass, highly educated lawyer, just like her dad, or maybe she’d choose to be a baker like her mom, or she’d give us both the finger and become a ballerina since she wanted so badly to take lessons. Whatever happened, she was going to rule this city, just like me; I’d make sure of it.
When we walked out of the airport, I picked her up in my arms and pointed to the skyline.
“Romina, welcome to New York City, the greatest city on earth.”
She looked with wide eyes for a second and then her nose wrinkled.
“It smells.”
I laughed at her answer. Yeah, I guess when you live all your life in the lush Portofino scenery, with the clear sea at your feet and the Italian hills behind you, New York does smell.
“You’ll love it here, you’ll see. Come on, let’s pick up Max and go home.”
Maximus was not a fan of traveling in the cargo, mostly because he didn’t like wearing a muzzle, so I hurried to pick him up. While I was waiting for someone from the airline to bring my dog, I made a quick phone call to Vito, one of the people close to the house in the Nucci family, to come and pick us up since my car was still across the ocean. I made sure he’d be discreet about my return, since no one knew about the latest developments in my life yet. Vito was still young, too young to be a good underboss or run large-scale businesses, but he wasn’t stupid. He grew up around the famiglia, like most of our men did, so when he saw me waiting with a child in my arms, he didn’t ask anything stupid, just helped me settle her in the back seat and drove me home. Romina was drained of energy and she fell asleep in the back, so I took her directly to her new bed, tucked her in, and left the bedroom door open so I could hear if she woke up, but I doubted it. She was a trooper today, refusing to sleep on the plane to not miss anything, but now she had no batteries left. I was sure she’d be asleep until morning. Tomorrow we could start fresh. She could come with me to meet her new family and according to the itinerary I got from Salva, her plane was landing at midnight, so Muse or Cat could watch her while I went to pick up my woman.
I moved Max’s bed from my bedroom to Romina’s room so he could watch over her before I went into the kitchen where Paul was waiting for me.
“Mr. Stefani, welcome home.” He’d worked for my family for fifteen years, but I’d never convinced him to call me just Roman. It was always Mr. Stefani, but it was expected. Paul came from a long line of Italians, all very connected to the mafia since the ’30s when they first came here. You learned respect when you lived in this world.
“Nice to see you again, Paul. I’m going to keep this short and not bore you. It’s not going to be just me anymore. That little girl is my daughter; her name is Romina. Her mother and I are going to live here from now on.” He didn’t say anything, just nodded. “Of course, because now you’ll have three people to ask things from you, I will give you extra compensation.”
“Mr. Stefani, that’s not necessary. You are generous enough already, and you did so much for my family.” Not that much, really. Paul had two boys, a seven-year-old, and a sixteen-year-old. Last year, his oldest got pretty beaten up at high school so I sent some boys there to make sure it wouldn’t happen again. No big deal.
“Shut up and take the money, Paul. I will need you to stop by the grocery store tomorrow before you come in. We’re going to have to feed Romina breakfast. Something kid appropriate.”
“Blueberry pancakes?”
“Yeah, that works. Go home now. I don’t need anything else tonight.”
“What about the luggage? I could unpack it, you won’t even know I’m here.”
“Go home. Get some sleep. Say hello to your wife while she’s still awake. Laundry can wait.”
“Sure thing, Mr. Stefani. You have carbonara alfredo in the oven if you’re hungry.”
Hunger was the last thing I felt. I was excited, impatient, agitated, happy, scared. That last one was weird. I don’t remember ever saying the words ‘I’m scared’ before, but now I was. Romina was so small, so fragile, and the world seemed so big in comparison. I had to protect her from all that big world, all the people that would try to get to her to get to me, and failing was not an option.
I poured myself a scotch and drank it in one gulp before picking up the phone and calling Gino. He answered after two rings.
