Chapter 1

Leo

 

Good Catholics had kids. Loads of them. Heck, going forth and repopulating the earth was practically a commandment. Unfortunately, the priests never mentioned how to survive a legion of munchkins armed with sippy cups and Legos.

Kids, ranging in age from two-months to seventeen years, had invaded my parents’ backyard. While I loved my nieces and nephews, swimming in the sea of munchkins made me miss another little boy. A little boy with my eyes who would likely never meet this half of his family.

“Some uncle you are, late for my son’s first birthday.” Gabe handed me a beer and a multicolored hat.

I took the bottle and ignored the ridiculous, cone-shaped, monstrosity. “I got hung up at the hotel.”

I’d spent hours going over the financials, dealing with pool maintenance, and approving the new marketing campaign. It was hell, but the place was mine free and clear.

“You know what they say about all work and no play.” He chuckled, but it ended with a sigh. “How’s business going?”

“Can’t complain. Both the hotel and the restaurant turned a sizable profit last quarter.” Thanks in no small part to me working my ass off twenty-four/seven.

“Good. My bar is finally above water, and to hear Enzo tell it, business has never been better at his restaurant.”

I glanced at our younger brother, Marco, and his new baby. Twelve months ago, he’d pulled the intellectual equivalent of a ninja move and freed us from the Sicilian mafia. Marco himself hadn’t been so lucky. Not only had he been forced to stay in the mob, he’d ended up taking the position as capo of the Marchionni family.

Regardless of his fate, I had a hard time feeling sorry for him. As a member of the Fratellanza, or ruling body of the Cosa Nostra, he had power, more money than God—and because he was a lucky SOB—a gorgeous wife and newborn daughter. Life might have handed him lemons, but he’d carved out the seeds and planted an entire fucking orchard.

As for the rest of us…we were adjusting.

Gabe clamped a hand on my shoulder and nodded toward the festivities. “It’s hard to believe Rocco’s already a year old.”

“No kidding.” I hadn’t spent nearly enough time with the little guy, or any of my nieces and nephews, but I had my reasons for keeping my distance. Reasons like they reminded me of my biggest mistake and deepest regret.

As if he’d read my mind, Gabe asked, “Seen Dahlia lately?”

“Not since she started dating that jackass.” I downed half my beer and walked outside. It wasn’t that I didn’t want to talk to Gabe, not precisely. He’d always been more like a best friend than a brother. For years, we’d been inseparable, but our lives had gone in two completely different directions.

Gabe and Maggie were the freaking picture of domestic bliss. They had the white picket fence, the dog, and five kids—including the three they’d inherited when our oldest brother, Joe, had been murdered. On the other hand, the love of my life was dating a douchebag politician and raising my secret baby on her own. Sure, Dahlia and I had agreed to keep our son’s paternity quiet for his safety, but things had changed.

Hell, everything changed the day I walked away from the mob.

Gabe followed me to the kid-friendly buffet. “Then it won’t interest you to know… She’s going to be here today.”

My pulse raced as if he’d slammed a syringe of adrenaline into my chest. I turned from the mac and cheese and chicken nuggets and stared. “Dahlia is coming here?”

“Maggie spoke to her this morning.” He scratched his jaw, a sure sign he had more to say… More to say that I wouldn’t like. “She’s bringing a plus one.”

“A plus one?” I hadn’t met Dahlia’s new man, but I’d seen pictures of them together online, on the news, and splashed across the tabloids in the supermarket checkout lane. The guy looked like a Politician Ken Doll, only with less personality. For the life of me, I couldn’t understand the media’s fascination with a presidential candidate’s daughter and a state senator. Then again, how many politicians had daughters who looked like Dahlia?

Why on earth would she bring Harrison-fucking-Meriwether to the party? It made zero sense. She had to know I’d be here. Unless…her plus one was a two-and-a-half-year-old who looked a lot like me.

Fuck, that’s worse. Ma will lose her shit—and she’s not the only one. As much as I wanted the world to know Gunnar was my son, this wasn’t the time to spring it on my family.

Dahlia and I had made a career out of convincing everyone, including my family, we were just friends, best friends, and strictly platonic. Coming clean about years of lies wasn’t a rip-the-Band-Aid-off kind of thing. It’d take time and planning.

Gabe waved his hand in front of my face. “Are you okay, man?”

“Starved, but I can’t stomach eating off the kiddie menu. What the hell were you guys thinking serving this crap?” My voice came out louder and sharper than I’d intended. So much so, people glanced in our direction.

He nodded toward a second food table piled high with swanky grown-up alternatives to the kid’s food. Lobster mac and cheese replaced the orange goo-covered shells, and there were pecan crusted chicken breasts with apricot sauce instead of nuggets. In addition to the froofroo items, our mother had prepared several traditional Sicilian dishes, including my favorite, Sciusceddu. The mere sight of the little meatballs made my mouth water.

Biting back a sigh, I said, “Sorry I snapped.”

“Yeah, well, it’s hard to see what’s in front of you when your head’s up your ass.” Gabe folded his arms. “And I’m not talking about the menu.”

“Let it go.” I strode across the lawn to the adult buffet and loaded my plate. With any luck, I’d scarf down my food, kiss the birthday boy, and get the hell out of there before Dahlia, and whoever-the-hell she was bringing, showed up.

Never one to take a hint, Gabe followed me. “It’s been a year, Leo.”

“I’m aware.” I glanced down at my lunch and wondered where my appetite had gone. Ten seconds before, my stomach had growled loud enough to wake the dead.

Leaning close, he whispered, “Talk to her. You two belong together.”

“Did you miss the part where she’s seeing someone else?” I marched back into the house and unceremoniously dumped my plate in the kitchen trash can.

A female gasped behind me. “Leo?”

My name on Dahlia’s lips made my heart lurch as if it planned to burst out of my back like the alien in a Sigourney Weaver movie. I turned and forced my voice to remain neutral. “Dahlia.”

I’d grown so used to seeing photos of her in business suits with her hair pulled back, I’d almost forgotten how stunning she looked in normal clothes. Her skinny jeans showed off her mile-long legs, and the fitted T-shirt hugged her chest. She wore her jet-black hair down and hadn’t bothered with makeup—exactly the way I liked her…or used to like her.

“It’s been forever.” Dahlia glanced away.

My God, I’ve missed her.

“Almost a year.” I shoved my hands in my pockets to keep from grabbing her and begging for a second chance like a middle-schooler with his first crush. Then again, Dahlia had been the first, and only, woman I’d ever loved—as in I’d fallen ass over tea-kettle for her.

“Yeah.” She swallowed hard. “How have you been?”

“Busy with work.” I rested my hip against the kitchen counter. “How are things going with your father’s campaign?”

“Chaotic.” Dahlia tilted her head and stared as if I’d spoken in another language. In a way I guess I had. We’d never been the type of couple to waste time with small talk.

Is this the new us? Is this how it’s going to be? Chit chat with me while she has real conversations with the other guy?

She glanced around as if searching for something to say or maybe an escape route. “How’s your dad doing? Did he fly in from Sicily?”

“He’s hanging in there, but his doctors didn’t think it was a good idea for him to travel.” My chest ached like it did every time someone mentioned my father’s health.

Dahlia nodded and dipped her chin.

It’d been two years since he’d been diagnosed with stage IV lung cancer, and eighteen months since he’d made the decision to stop treatment. No one had expected him to live as long as he had, but he’d made a career out of proving people wrong.

Time to change the subject.

It struck me as odd that she was alone. Call me curious, or masochistic, but I had to ask. “Did you bring Harrison?”

“No.” She sighed and opened her mouth as if to say more, but I cut her off.

“When Gabe told me you had a plus one, I thought it was either Senator Ken Doll or Gunnar. My vote was for the kid.”

She shook her head so quickly I worried she’d pulled a muscle. “Harrison had last-minute plans, and you know it’s not a good idea to bring Gunnar here.”

I held up my hands. “I know. I know. He looks too much like me. I get it, but you can’t hide him from your friends forever. I don’t know how you’ve managed to pull it off this long.”

“It hasn’t been easy, especially now that everyone is married and/or having babies.” Dahlia stared out the patio doors. “Which is one of the reasons I’m moving to Baton Rouge.”

The news hit me like a right-hook to the jaw. On the surface, it made sense. Dahlia’s father was in an all-out battle to win the Democratic nomination for the presidency. She’d spent the past few months working on his election campaign. However, I knew her family’s deepest darkest secrets. Governor Waylon Calhoun might have been a great guy, but he and the First Lady of Louisiana absolutely hated each other.

Dahlia had always sworn she’d never move home and expose our son to her parents’ arguing.

I studied her body language but couldn’t get a read on what was going on in her head. “Not with your parents, right?”

“No.” She sighed. “I’m looking at condos on the other side of town.”

Somehow, that didn’t make me feel any better. I still hated the idea. “I want to see Gunnar before you move.”

She frowned. “Why now, after all this time?”

“Because he’s my son.” And I love you both.

“A son you haven’t spent time with in almost a year.” She rested her hands on her hips.

Though misguided, I understood her skepticism. As far as she knew, I hadn’t visited Gunnar since I’d returned from Sicily thirteen months prior. What she didn’t know was that I’d bribed his nanny to bring him to my place damned near every day.

Dahlia moving to Baton Rouge would make seeing him difficult, to say the least.

“About that…” I couldn’t bring myself to look her in the eye.

I’m a moron.

When I’d sworn the nanny to secrecy, I thought I was doing the right thing for Dahlia. However, I’d overlooked a few crucial flaws in my plan. First off, I never should have snuck around behind her back. Second, by doing so, I’d led her to believe I was a shitty father. And last, but certainly not least, standing in the same room with her made it impossible for me to lie to myself about my motives. I’d been avoiding her.

Call me a coward, but I couldn’t stand seeing her happy and knowing another guy had put the smile on her face. That was my job, damn it.

She must have noticed the debate going on inside me because she narrowed her eyes. “What is it?”

I had to tell Dahlia the truth, even if it meant she went ballistic. I’d endure anything as long as she didn’t think of me as a deadbeat dad.

Running my hand over the back of my neck, I said, “It hasn’t been that long since I’ve seen Gunnar.”

“I don’t understand.”

Bracing myself for impact, I said, “I’ve spent quite a bit of time with him over the last year.”

Dahlia flashed me a smile and shook her head. “Is that why the nanny insists on taking him out every day at two o’clock, rain or shine? They were with you?”

Her reaction shocked the shit out of me. But then again, Dahlia had never been predictable. “Guilty as charged.”

She laughed and my cold, black heart softened.

The urge to touch her overwhelmed me, but I kept my distance. “You’re not mad?”

“Actually, I’m relieved. I thought you didn’t want to see him.” Her smile wilted. “You could have told me. I would have brought him to you…”

A surge of panic ran through me. I needed to take charge of the conversation before it went completely off the rails. “I shouldn’t have snuck around.”

Her eyes widened. “You did it because you didn’t want to see me.”

The pain in her voice cut me to the core. I sucked in a breath and chose my words very carefully. “You’re dating someone. I was giving you space.”

Her mouth fell open. “Space? What gave you the idea I wanted space?”

Why the hell is she surprised? “The night of Marco’s wedding, you told me you were dating Harrison.”

“No. I told you my father—” She held up her hands and turned her head. “You know what. It doesn’t matter. All of this is in the past where it belongs. As for Gunnar, I promised I’d never keep him from you, and I’ll do my best to make sure that doesn’t happen. But…”

Here it comes, the reason she’s going to break her promise. “But?”

She raised her chin. “I have to make this move. Things are…complicated.”

“Complicated how?” So help me God, if she’s doing this to be closer to that douchebag…

“There you are!” My sister-in-law, Maggie, burst into the room and hugged Dahlia. “Shanna and I were starting to think you’d chickened out.”

Dahlia’s cheeks turned red as she pulled out of the embrace. “I’ve been here for a few minutes. Leo and I were talking.”

Maggie glanced in my direction and paled. The slow-motion-wide-eyed-head-turn belonged in a horror movie—and was one-hundred percent out of character for Gabe’s woman. She was raising five kids, for fuck’s sake. She sure as hell didn’t scare that easy.

I didn’t need a degree in female psychology to put two and two together and come up with the fact that their conversation had something to do with me.

Yeah, dipshit. She came to tell you she was moving.

“I’ll… just…” Maggie motioned to the patio. “Leave you two alone to talk.”

Before either of us could respond, Gabe came through the door holding Rocco at arms’ length. “Incoming! Biohazard baby. It’s your turn, Mags.”

“Seriously? It’s been my turn since he started eating broccoli like it was candy.”

“What can I say? You have a stronger stomach than I do.” Gabe winked at his wife and turned to Dahlia. “Glad you made it.”

“Sorry I’m late. Something came up at home.” She hurried to Rocco and kissed one chubby cheek after the other. “Hey there, little man. Happy birthday.”

Rocco whined and reached for her.

She settled the baby on her hip. “You two go have fun. I’ll change him. Are his things still upstairs in the nursery?”

“Yeah. Thanks. I owe you one.” Gabe retreated, likely out of fear she’d get a whiff of the baby and change her mind.

Maggie leaned close to Dahlia and whispered, “More of the same at home?”

“No, just campaign stuff.” She tickled Rocco and let out a fake laugh.

Nice try, babe, but something isn’t right in Dahlia-land.

She might have been all smiles, but between Maggie’s reaction, and the twin wrinkles between Dahlia’s eyebrows, I suspected whatever had kept her had nothing to do with work.

Maggie gave me a wary look before turning back to Dahlia and forcing a smile. “Shanna owes me ten bucks. She bet me you wouldn’t come.”

“That’s ridiculous. I wouldn’t miss this little guy’s birthday for the world.” Her words came out too fast and her voice too high pitched. “Even if he does smell like roadkill.”

Yeah, something is definitely going on with her. Desperate to find out what was going on, I cleared my throat and met Dahlia’s gaze. “Need some help?”

Dahlia shook her head. “I’m good.”

Not that I particularly wanted to change a diaper, but the rejection stung. “Do what you need to do. We’ll finish our conversation later.”

“Sure.” She held the baby closer and walked upstairs.

Maggie watched them go before turning back to me. “It’s funny. I never pegged you for a quitter.”

Had anyone else said that to me, I would have told them to fuck off. However, I had been raised to respect women. On top of that, Maggie had earned it when she’d married my brother. “I didn’t quit. I gave her what she wanted.”

The five-feet-nothing woman pushed into my personal space and jabbed her finger into my chest. “She wanted you.”

Those three words sucker punched me. “I wanted her, too. I still do, but it’s…”

“Complicated? News flash. Life is complicated.” Maggie took a half-step back and nodded in the direction Dahlia had gone. “Lucky for you, it’s not too late.”

“She’s with Harrison—”

“Don’t.” She pressed her hand against my mouth. “Don’t say another word and make more of an ass of yourself. Figure out what you want. No more brooding. No more working all hours of the day and night. Put that famous Marchionni pride aside and be honest with her, or it will be too late.”

I hadn’t suffered a verbal ass kicking like that since… Well, since ever. Unsure how to respond, I nodded.

She gave me a once over, frowned, and marched upstairs.

What the hell just happened?

 

 

Chapter 2

Dahlia

 

“Okay, spill it.” Maggie handed me a clean diaper. “Why are you late?”

“I made the mistake of answering an unknown number as I was walking out the door.” The memory of the stalker’s voice and the horrid things he’d said made my stomach clench.

The creep had sent another package, but I didn’t want to get into the gory details at her son’s birthday party. I’d been dealing with the stalker for almost a year. Gross phone calls and disturbing gifts were nothing new.

“Oh, honey. I hate this for you.” She drew a deep breath. “Has your father’s private investigator had any luck finding the guy?”

“Not yet, but I’m sure he will soon.” I lied through my teeth. “It’s weird seeing Leo again.”

“What happened down there? And don’t say nothing—he looked like someone stole his favorite toy.”

Leo happened.

As much as I’d mentally prepared myself to see him again, one look into his soulful green eyes and I was back on the battle field playing Switzerland between my head and my heart.

“He asked if I brought Harrison to the party, I said no, and told him I was moving to Baton Rouge.” I took advantage of the squirming birthday boy to avoid her gaze.

“Did you tell him why?” She distracted the baby with his favorite stuffed lizard.

Rocco grabbed the green plushy and hugged it to his chest.

“You know how the Marchionni men are. If I tell Leo about the stalker, he’s going to go all caveman on me.” I popped the snaps on Rocco’s miniature jeans. “I can’t handle that on top of everything else.”

“You need to tell him the truth about Harrison.” She nudged my side.

“It’s none of his business. Leo has made it abundantly clear he’s not interested.” I couldn’t tell her he’d been avoiding me while sneaking around to see our son. No one besides my dad knew he was Gunnar’s father, and Leo seemed content to keep it that way.

Maggie nodded and pressed her lips together as if to keep from saying more.

I finished changing the baby and tossed the dirty diaper into the pail. “Don’t look at me like that. I wasted eleven years of my life waiting for him to decide it was the right time to get serious. If it hasn’t happened by now, it’s not going to.”

“Dahlia, you and I both know why he didn’t want to get involved.”

“It’s been over a year since they got out of the mafia. A year, Mags. What’s he waiting for?” I plopped into a chair and folded my arms like a spoiled child. “He said he was giving me space.”

“Because he thinks you’re involved with another man.” She sighed. “I don’t want to argue. I get it. You wanted him to fight for you.”

Is that it? Did I want some grand gesture to prove that Leo had feelings for me?

“I would have settled for him telling me he loved me. And for the record, I did tell him my father set me up with Harrison as a political stunt.”

“You did?”

“Yes, at Marco’s wedding, but evidently Leo still had it in his head that we were dating.”

“In his defense, you and Harrison have been all over the news since your dad decided he was running for president.” She muttered, “And the man did propose to you.”

“Whose side are you on?” I teased, or mostly teased.

“Yours.” Maggie lifted Rocco into her arms. “If I’ve learned anything from being married to Gabe, it’s that the Marchionni men are stubborn, proud, and hear what they want to hear. Repetition helps, but sometimes, you have to sit them down and force them to listen.”

I nodded because I knew she was right, but that didn’t mean I agreed. I’d wasted a decade waiting for Leo to get his shit together. Now that he had, he’d chosen to sneak around behind my back to see our son rather than risk spending time with me.

“Come on. It’s time for Rocco to smash his cake.” She smiled the kind of smile usually reserved for naughty children. She obviously didn’t like my choices, but she loved me anyway.

“That sounds like fun. Can I go Hulk on my cake, too?” I followed her back downstairs and into an empty kitchen. Some small part of me had hoped Leo would be waiting to finish our conversation, but that part was, and would always be, sorely disappointed.

Maggie laughed. “I can think of better ways to relieve stress, but if it helps, go for it.”

I doubt anything can relieve this stress. Any-freaking-thing.

We walked outside together, but I hung back as three generations of Marchionnis crowded around Rocco. A year ago, I would have been at Leo’s side in the middle of the party. His brothers would have teased us about being just friends, his father would have given us curious glances, and his mother would have given me her infamous dirty looks—but I would have belonged.

They might have been mobsters, and Leo and I might have kept a huge secret from them, but I’d never felt like a stranger on the outside looking in with his family.

Until today.

I couldn’t stand there pretending my heart wasn’t broken. Not to mention, I didn’t want to explain the tears threatening to run down my face, so like a coward, I snuck back inside while everyone was distracted.

“Dalia, wait.” Leo caught up with me outside the servants’ entrance.

I closed my eyes and counted to five before I turned to face him. “I have to go.”

“Give me five minutes.” He shoved his hands in his pockets and dipped his chin, a very un-Leo-like posture. “Please.”

I can’t do this with him now. My heart won’t survive it.

“The nanny called. Gunnar is running a fever.” As soon as the words came out of my mouth, I wanted to take them back. Besides the fact he and my nanny were on friendly terms—friendly enough for him to call her and check up on our son—I’d never lied to Leo.

“How high is it?” He shook his head and pulled out his keys. “It doesn’t matter. He’s had ear infections since summer. He should see a doctor. I’ll go with you.”

That he knew about the ear infections surprised me, although it shouldn’t have. The more I thought about his deception the more it ticked me off. I made a mental note to have a long talk with my traitorous nanny. If Leo wanted to know how Gunnar was doing, he should have asked me.

But he didn’t, because he didn’t want to see me.

“It’s Saturday. The pediatrician’s office is closed, and I don’t think he’s sick enough to go to the emergency room.” I gathered my courage and said, “You have five minutes. Start talking.”

“What’s the deal with you and Harrison?” He folded his arms and stared as if he had every right to ask about my personal life.

I’d known Leo since I was eighteen, but this was the first time he’d ever reminded me of his father. That he’d decided to go all mobster about my love life pissed me off. It was petty of me not to set the record straight right then and there, but I didn’t care. “I don’t see where this is any of your business.”

“It became my business when you decided to move my son to Baton Rouge.”

Now he cares? Because he thinks I’m going to shack up with another man?

I needed to put an end to the conversation and get the heck out of there before I said something I’d regret. “He’s a good man. We’ve spent a lot of time together attending rallies and fundraisers for my dad.”

“But?”

“No buts.” I shrugged to play off the half-truth. “Now, if that’s all you wanted to talk about, I should go.”

“Dahl, please. I’m trying here, but everything I say seems to piss you off.” He took my hand. “Talk to me.”

“Harrison asked me to marry him.”

Leo released my fingers and stepped back. “Let me guess, your father is all for it.”

“Yes, but…” I closed the physical distance between us, even though I knew nothing would close the emotional gap. “I’m not in love with him. We’re just friends.”

He swallowed hard. “Like you and I were just friends?”

“You and I were never just friends.” I couldn’t look at him. Not when he stood there staring as if he didn’t know how to interpret my words. Not when the man I’d spent my entire adult life waiting for seemed like a stranger. Not when I’d worked so hard to put any thought of us behind me.

“I should have called you.” His voice softened.

“Why didn’t you?”

He muttered something in Italian and let his head fall back. “I’ve been asking myself the same question for months.”

“Let me know when you figure it out. I’d like to understand what I did wrong, so maybe I won’t waste another ten years waiting for the next guy I fall for to love me back.” I forced a smile, turned on my heel, and made a beeline for my car.

Once again, Leo caught up to me. Only this time, he grabbed my arm, spun me around, and pulled me to his chest.

God, he smells good. So damned sexy and too damned familiar. For the first time in months, I felt safe, but it was an illusion. I’d spent years believing he’d protect me. Little did I know then that Leo would be the one to crush me.

I jerked free of his embrace. “I can’t do this.”

“You didn’t do anything wrong. We were good together. You remember what it was like when we conceived Gunnar. We were happy, couldn’t keep our hands off each other.”

I remembered it all too well. Hateful words like, there’s a difference between love and lust, tumbled through my mind, but I couldn’t bring myself to lie to him again, nor would I cheapen what we once had. “And then Joe and Rebecca were killed and the bottom fell out.”

He hung his head. “I was terrified the same thing would happen to you and Gunnar.”

“We both were.” I had been four months pregnant when Leo’s oldest brother and his wife had died.

Though the police had blamed their accident on faulty brakes, Leo’s father had insisted they were murdered. As it turned out, he was right. They’d been the victims of a mob hit.

During the torturous weeks following the accident, Leo had confided some awful things to me, including his family’s involvement with the mafia. To make matters worse, my father had hated Leo from the first moment he’d laid eyes on him. Between our fears and pressure from our families, we’d agreed to keep Gunnar’s paternity a secret.

Those months of insisting my baby was the result of a drunken mistake with a stranger had killed me. I’d only ever been with one man. Needless to say, my friends and family had been shocked, but the only one to figure out the truth was my father.

“I’m free now. It’s been a year since Marco took over. We haven’t had any blow-back.” He ran his hands up my arms. “There’s nothing stopping us. We could be a family, Dahl. You, me, and Gunnar.”

“Nothing except my father making a bid for the White House.” I hated myself for what I was about to say. He and his brothers had risked their lives to get out of that life, but for some people, it would never be enough. “The press would have an absolute field day linking my dad to organized crime.”

“The Marchionni Corporation is one hundred percent legit now. Let them dig. They won’t find anything.” He lowered his face closer to mine.

I turned my head, but nothing could lessen my desire to kiss him. “It doesn’t change public perception. A year ago, your father told the world about his illegal campaign contributions and bribes. Not to mention he took the mayor of New Orleans down with him.”

Leo tightened his jaw. “I’m not my father.”

“I’m sorry. Maybe if we’d been together before the campaign, or if people knew Gunnar was yours…”

He scowled. “You’re a grown woman. When are you going to start making decisions based on what’s right for you instead of what’s best for your father’s career?”

“Who says this isn’t what’s right for me?”

He raised his chin. “Look. I’m sorry I snuck around behind your back. It was stupid, and you have every right to be pissed at me.”

“I’m not upset that you spent time Gunnar—”

“But you are upset because you think I didn’t want to spend time with you.”

Yes! “No.” I waved my hand. “I don’t know.”

He lowered his voice. “I screwed up, but we can make this work.”

How romantic. Just what every little girl dreams of hearing.

“It’s not that simple.” Nothing ever was when it came to either of our families.

“We can’t change the past, but I’m not giving up on the future.” He kissed the top of my head. “I’ll wait for you this time.”

I met his gaze and did the hardest thing I’d ever done. Let him go. “No. As much as it breaks my heart to say it. It’s past time we moved on.”

He tightened his jaw, but continued to hold my gaze. “And Gunnar?”

“Call me when you want to see him, but it’s best if we don’t tell anyone he’s yours.”

“Marco knows.” Leo frowned. “He’s not happy we’ve kept it from the family, but he won’t tell anyone.”

“That’s fine, as long as he keeps quiet.” I hated the lies. I’d come close to telling Maggie and Shanna so many times over the years, but I couldn’t do it. Not without speaking to Leo first, and like so many others, that was a conversation we’d never gotten around to having. “I should go.”

He tucked my hair behind my ear. “May I kiss you goodbye?”

Regardless of my answer, I’d shatter into a million pieces the second I pulled out of the driveway. It might have been foolish, but I wanted some sort of closure, a ritual like a funeral and headstone to remember the death of years of hopes and dreams.

I glanced from the wrought-iron gate at the end of the drive, to the floodlights, and finally to the security cameras. If we were going to do this, I wanted privacy. “Not here.”

Leo dragged me to our secret spot. If there was one good thing about lying to our friends and family, we knew every dark corner and blind-spot from security on the property.

Grief tightened my chest. This is it. Our last kiss.

Leo’s hands shook as he cupped my face. Still staring into my eyes, he leaned forward. At the last moment, he sighed and pressed his brow to mine. “I can’t fucking do this. We can’t be over.”

“I’m sorry.” I brushed my lips across his.

Before I could pull away, he slid his arms around me and kissed me as if his life depended on it. It would have been so easy for me to fall back in love with him, to believe that kiss was a promise. Had he once, in the course of the conversation, said he loved me, I doubted I would have had the strength to walk away.

But he hadn’t.

A clamor of voices and flashes of light broke the spell.

I’d been so lost in my thoughts, in the kiss, in him, that it took me a moment to realize what was happening.

A pack of paparazzi had slipped inside the gate and were shouting questions like, “Does Harrison know you’re cheating on him?” and, “Are you aware the Marchionnis have ties to organized crime?” and, “Dahlia, how does the governor feel about you sleeping with a mobster?”

“Oh God.” I froze in place, giving the photographers enough access to my stunned face to fill thousands of articles.

Leo pressed my head against his chest, angled my body away from the cameras, and hurried us back into the kitchen. “Are you okay?”

Not trusting my voice, I shook my head.

Gabe burst into the kitchen. “What they hell is going on out there?”

“The paparazzo came through the gate.” Leo raked his hands through his hair. “This never would have happened before Pops stepped down as capo. They wouldn’t have dared.”

“You’re right. I need to speak to Marco about this.” Gabe motioned between us. “You two stay here.”

“Will do.” Leo pulled me closer. “Tell him Dahlia needs security for the evening.”

I glanced from Gabe’s hard-set jaw to Leo’s murderous expression and choked back a sob. “I can’t do this. I can’t go out there alone, but if I go out with security…”

This is a mess. An absolute mess.

Leo tilted my face toward his and waited until I met his gaze. “Dahl, it’s going to be okay. I know you. You’ll be fine once you’ve had time to cry, get angry, and process what happened.” He held me close and whispered, “I’m here for you, babe. Whatever you need.”

As he had so many times before, Leo knew exactly what to say, when to hold me, and when to give me space. In a perfect world, we could have had it all. Unfortunately, our worlds were far from perfect.