DeLuca (Mafia Romance)

“So, you going to tell me what the whole Betty Crocker kick is about?” I asked as Mia started on the salad.

She shrugged. “I’m pregnant.”

“Isn’t it a little early for nesting?” I asked when she didn’t elaborate.

Mia let out a sigh. “I don’t want my child to grow up like I did. I want to be a good mom.”NôvelDrama.Org owns all content.

“You realize being able to cook doesn’t make you any more of a mom, right?”

“I know,” she said, placing her hands on her small belly. “I want this baby to have a family-a real family. Carlo doesn’t have a lot of family, and I have none. You guys are the closest thing we have. I’m sick of being isolated out here. That’s why I invited everyone over for dinner. Carlo and I have spent years alone, so it’s time to start letting people in, building a foundation for our kids. I mean, what if something happens to us?”

“I get it. So is this going to be like a thing? Dinner, I mean.”

“I’d like it to be. My grandmother used to have us over for Sunday dinner every week when I was a kid; I’d like to continue that tradition for my own kids.”

“So who all did you invite?” I asked casually.

“You, Angelo, Antonio, and Enzo, but he couldn’t make it.”

“Why?” I asked automatically.

Mia gave me a sideways look causing me to cringe, but she didn’t call me on it. “I don’t know; he just said he was busy but he’ll be here next week.”

“Oh. So, what else do you need help with?” I asked changing the subject.

Mia and I spent the next hour preparing the rest of the meal. We discussed plans for her and Carlo’s upcoming wedding, which she’d decided had to happen before the baby was born in July. I’d tried to talk her out of it. Trying to plan a wedding in a matter of a few months while pregnant was a recipe for disaster, but she was determined. When Mia wanted something, she got it.

Dinner was nice, albeit a little awkward. Before Mia, Carlo had been closed off and cold, even towards his cousins Angelo and Antonio. He’d made a point in the past not to socialize with his employees. I guess it was smart not to make attachments in our line of work. Mia wasn’t having any more of his antisocial behavior, and because Carlo would do anything to make Mia happy, he gave in.

“We have another shipment coming in next week. Is everything ready?” Carlo asked, directing his attention to Antonio.

“Everything’s set. The arrangement Mia worked out with Mouse’s parents has worked well,” Antonio replied as he picked at his lasagna. It may not look all that pretty, but it still tasted good. I kicked him under the table when Mia wasn’t looking causing his head to snap up. Giving him a stern look I deliberately took a bite of my food, never breaking eye contact. At least he had the decency to look contrite.

“Can we please not talk about business? This is supposed to be a family dinner, not a fucking board meeting,” Mia said angrily, stabbing at her salad.

Carlo reached over and placed a hand over hers. “Of course.”

“Thank you,” she muttered.

“So, Antonio, Angelo, how’s your mother?” he asked in an, albeit stilted, attempt to shift the conversation.

Angelo shifted in his chair uncomfortably, clearly not having expected the new line of questioning. His eyes shifted to his brother before moving back to Carlo.

“She’s well; thank you for asking. So Mia, have you made any new wedding plans?” he asked, immediately changing the topic yet again.

I gave the brothers a curious look. What had that been about? If a single, straight man asked a woman about her upcoming wedding plans, you could bet your ass they were avoiding something. I’d have to keep my eyes on them, there was definitely something up there.

Of course I’d done my homework on everyone I’d come into contact with since I’d started working for Carlo. Angelo and Antonio’s mother Donatella was Carlo’s aunt on his father’s side. From the intel I’d gathered, she and her husband had nothing to do with the business. Instead, they’d opted to live the high life without ever getting their hands dirty. From the little information I’d gleaned from Angelo over the years it had come as quite a shock to their mother when both Angelo and Antonio had decided to start working with Carlo, and had become quite the point of contention.

As a rule, the men never discussed their mother or any sort of family connections. Not for the first time, I wondered if it was a form of protection for themselves and their families. After all, that was why Carlo had been so keen to keep his connection with Mia under wraps for so long.

Carlo had always called his organization a family, but aside from financial support, he’d never taken a vested interest in anyone from what I could tell. It seemed that Mia had different ideas though. It could’ve been the pregnancy, or what had happened with the Russians infiltrating the ranks of the DeLuca family, but she seemed determined to create a close bond between who she considered to be the leaders in the family.

“Frankie?” Mia’s voice called, pulling me from my speculation.

“Hmm?” I asked, trying not to make it obvious that I hadn’t been paying attention.

“We’re still on for dress shopping next week, right?”

“Yeah, of course. Text me with the time so I can put it on my schedule,” I said smiling through the dread I felt at stepping foot inside a bridal boutique.

“Good, finding a dress that will cover this thing in a few months is going to be a bitch,” she said rubbing her belly once more. Again, I saw Carlo’s eyes dart down to her stomach and that slight smile pull at the corner of his lips.

There was a change in him. He’d always been sharp and hard, but she’d domesticated him somehow. The way Carlo watched her when she wasn’t paying attention or how his eyes would soften whenever she absentmindedly rubbed her belly, it was obvious he was a man in love. While I was happy he and Mia had found each other, their every look, touch, and kiss reminded me of what I didn’t have.

Which is why I made an excuse to leave immediately after dinner. There was only so much nauseating happiness I could take before I succumbed to self-pity and curled into the fetal position. Besides, Enzo wasn’t there, and the longer I stayed, the more I tortured myself wondering what he could be doing-or who. I’d spent too many years missing him and wondering where he was and what he was doing. I couldn’t afford to let myself fall down that rabbit hole of darkness and pain again, because there was no end.