Secret Babies for the Italian Mafia Boss: A Dark Mafia Secret Baby Romance (Possessive Mafia Kings Book 5)

“Mommy? Can I have a cookie?” Olivia asks, dropping her colored pencil on the table. She blinks up at me with the same blue eyes her father has, and my heart yearns to see him again.

I wipe down the counter and shake my head. “No, ma’am. You had a cookie already.”

“Please,” she pouts.

I can’t cave. She can’t ruin her dinner. No matter how cute she is, I can’t give in. “No, baby. You can’t. Once you eat your dinner, you can have another cookie.”

She slouches in her chair and folds her arms across her chest, pouting.

“Pouting about it won’t get you a cookie either.”

She gives me her back, giving me the silent treatment. The older she gets, the sassier she becomes, and I have no idea who she gets that from.

The bell jingles, and my smile fades when I see the person standing in the doorway.

Luca.

He smiles at me, and every bone in my body melts. It’s so hard to keep my guard up when he’s around. Even when I met him at the club all those years ago, he had a charming, elegant way about him that told me he always got what he wanted.

And while he has never said it, the money from that night helped me survive for a little while. Seventeen thousand dollars. I couldn’t believe it when it was sent to me, and I didn’t use it for drinks.

I didn’t touch it for months. It stayed in the cash app until my dad took me to a new town. I guess while I’ve been alone, I’ve had help. I couldn’t have started my new life without that cash from Luca and my dad. When that money ran out, though, the rest was on me, and having twins to take care of on your own isn’t easy. It was so expensive. I remember eating ramen and cereal for months just to get diapers.

It isn’t like that now. Life is looking a lot better than it did a month ago, and while I have my dad to thank for that, forgiveness doesn’t come easy, even in death.

“Mr. Bianco,” I greet him, then rush around the corner to Olivia and Oliver.

I stand in front of them, and Olivia wraps her arms around one leg while Oliver does the same to the other. They peek around my thighs to look at Luca, and right now, my heart is beating so hard I’m afraid it will pump right out of my chest.

He doesn’t know they are his kids, and I know if he truly looked at them long enough, he would put two and two together.

“Camilla,” he kisses my cheek, and my breath catches in my throat. “You look beautiful.”

Is he insane? I haven’t brushed my hair today. It’s been in a messy bun ever since I woke up this morning. I smell like cinnamon because I spilled an entire container all over my apron today, and I learned cinnamon spreads everywhere.

It was hell cleaning it up. That’s what I get for trying to make cinnamon sugar muffins at seven in the morning without coffee.

“And call me Luca. Mr. Bianco was my father,” he corrects me, taking my hand in his before lifting it to his lips to kiss.

My skin tingles in response, and I remember to breathe when he gently lowers my hand to my side.

“What are you doing here?” the words are breathless and shaky.

“I wanted to see how you were doing,” he says as he peers around the bakery before settling on Olivia and Oliver. He squats and unbuttons his suit blazer at the same time. “We haven’t met yet. I’m Luca. Your mom’s friend.”

“Mommy said no talk to strangers,” Oliver grumbles, pressing his cheek against my leg. He’s shyer than Olivia.

“She’s a very smart woman, and if she gives the okay for you to talk to me, I’d very much like to know your names.”

I glance down, hating how good he seems to be with them. If he just thought about it, he’d know they were his.

“It’s okay. Luca is a friend. You can talk to him,” I dare to say.

Olivia steps out first. “I’m Olivia,” she introduces herself. “That’s my brother. Oliver.”

Luca doesn’t say anything. He tilts his head, and his eyes narrow. I see him calculating. Is he wondering if they are his? What do I do if he asks? I have to tell him the truth. I should blurt it out now, but then I’d have a lot of explaining to do with the kids first.

This is a mess. How did this become so messy?

“It’s nice to meet you both,” he says. “And I hope your mom doesn’t mind, but I brought you something.”

Olivia spins around and tugs on my apron, tilting her head back to stare at me. “Mommy. Peasants! Peasants.”

Luca laughs, and I slap a hand against my forehead. “Sweetheart, it’s presents. Presents. With an R.”

“It’s what I said,” she argues. “Peasants.”

Luca chuckles again, tilting his head back to look at me, still squatting, and now I’m bombarded with Olivia and her father staring directly at me with the same eyes.

I can’t process a thing. They look so much alike that it hurts. I think about what the kids have missed out on by not having a father around, and I can’t help but think they missed out on so many wonderful things with Luca.

“Can he give us gifts now?” Oliver questions, taking a brave step next to his sister.

“Yeah, can I?” Luca teams up with them, leaving me alone with no way to say no with all of them staring at me.

Even Oliver, while he looks more like me, when he is standing in front of Luca, I can see so much of Luca in him. One night. How did one night give me all of this?

“Yes, they can have their gifts.”

Luca stands and ruffles their hair. “I’ll be right back. Just wait.” He opens the door to the bakery, allowing cool air inside, and I cross my arms to keep myself warm. Luca returns with a purple bag, and I immediately worry about what it is.

I do everything I can to give Olivia and Oliver what they need, but being a single mom, money is tight. Luca has endless pockets of blood, drug money, and who knows what else. He can get anything in their wildest dreams, and yes, that sounds nice. Who wouldn’t want to give their kids everything?

I want to give them enough to be happy but not enough that they expect life to be easy. I don’t want them to think they can always have what they want because life doesn’t work like that. They are young, and a lot of people would argue that they are only children. They deserve to be spoiled.

That’s how entitled adults are created.

If the habits begin now, they will continue.

“Okay. One gift for you, Olivia. And another for you, Oliver.” He hands them individually wrapped gifts, and I roll my lips together to stay silent.

They are too excited to find a chair, so they plop on the ground. I take a seat too, and I’m cautious. He wouldn’t wrap a gun, right?

Olivia tears into her gift in a fit of giggles, but Oliver is quiet and peels the tape from each folded corner, not wanting to mess up the paper.

They are so different.

Olivia has her gift open first. “Mommy! Look. Look. Mr. Luca got me a Barbie doll.”

My shoulders sag in relief. I don’t know what I expected, but it wasn’t that. “That’s so wonderful. Look how pretty she is. What do you say when someone gets you something nice?”

Olivia stands on her feet, doll tight in her hand, and she squeals, throwing her arms around Luca. “Thank you so much, Mr. Luca. I love her. I’m going to go play with her right now. “

She sprints to the back of the bakery, where I have a small play station set up, and away from the customers just in case I can’t get them to daycare or if Cora can’t watch them. They don’t do badly on their own now, but I like to have them around other kids, so they get that socialization.

Oliver is still working on his gift.

“Do you need help?” Luca offers, and Oliver rolls his eyes.

I turn my head and stifle a laugh by covering my mouth with my hand.

“No. I don’t like to be hurrieded,” Oliver explains, gently peeling back another piece of wrapping paper.

“It’s hurried, baby. Hurrieded isn’t a word,” I correct him.

“Oh. Apologies, Oliver. Everyone has their own processes,” Luca bows, but it’s extravagant and extra. He bows by gesturing with his hand and bending over.

Oliver grins, showing his cute little dimples. “It’s okay,” he shrugs his shoulder and finally has the gift unwrapped. “Woah.” He’s stunned. His mouth parts in a small O, and he lifts up his new remote-controlled car. It’s black with blue racing stripes, and the tires are huge. “This is so cool! Thank you, Mr. Luca.” Oliver runs to give him a hug, too, before darting to the back of the bakery.

I stand from the seat, arms crossed over my chest, and try not to be jealous. When was the last time I was able to get them anything other than something cheap?

“I hope you don’t mind,” Luca says, his arm brushing against mine. “I saw the toys and thought they would like them.”

I turn to him, wondering what his game is. “It’s very kind of you, but I ask that you don’t make it a habit. Every now and then is okay. Maybe that’s just my pride talking,” I murmur out of nowhere, the admission suddenly lifting the weight from my shoulders.

He lifts my chin, and his eyes dance over my face. His fingers brush against my cheek, and I lean against his palm, and the same feeling I had five years ago runs through my body. Every part of my body awakens. He was the last man to ever touch me, and I was right to miss it because even this simple gesture, the way his hand engulfs my cheek, has me feeling small yet protected.

“I understand. Too many gifts can be a bad thing. They can be spoiled but not too much, right?” he says, his voice smooth and deep, and I almost feel like I’m floating. He’s completely yanked the gravity from right under my feet.

Anti-gravity against reality?

I don’t stand a chance.

“Why did you come here?” I finally ask the question that’s been burning in the back of my mind. “You couldn’t have only come for the kids.”

“What if I did? Is that such a bad thing to know I’m interested in more than just you?”

“Luca…”

“Camilla,” he says with a teasing smile.

“What do you want?” I ask.

“I never got that cookie I came for the other day.”

“That’s it?”

“That’s it.”

I don’t believe him, but he won’t give me any more than that, so I head behind a counter and wrap two cookies for him. “Fresh out of the oven. Made today. And they aren’t burnt.”

“Lucky me.” He bites into one and moans.

I’m taken back to when that same sound graced my ears as he fucked me.

“You’re blushing, Ms. Thompson. Care to tell me what you’re thinking about?” he licks a bit of frosting from his lip, and those wicked blue eyes lock onto me.

“Just a sudden hot flash.” A lame excuse, but it will have to do. I fan myself, hoping he doesn’t catch on.

“I’ll be seeing you around, Camilla. I’ll be expecting that rent check in a few days.” He goes to leave, but I reach across the counter to stop him.

He looks at where I’m touching him, then drags his eyes to my face.

“How do you own this building? My father owned it. It’s impossible for you to be my landlord.”

“Nothing is impossible,” he states, not giving me an answer.

I scoff, becoming impatient. “I’m not sure if I’m comfortable with you being the person I have to answer to, Luca.”

He steps towards the counter, engulfing me with his presence. I smell the rich spice of his cologne as he leans down, and when I try to take a step away, his hand grips mine. Luca slides his eyes to the left to check on the kids, and when he sees they are preoccupied, his lips almost touch mine again.

And for the second time today, I’m unable to breathe.

“Then I guess it’s time for you to step out of your comfort zone because I’m not going anywhere, Camilla.” I can tell he wants to kiss me by how his eyes drop to my lips, but he refrains, then steps away. “Don’t forget the check.”

I swallow and nod, watching as he leaves, and that’s when I let out a breath.

I’m lightheaded. I’m starting to think he might be bad for my health.

“Mommy! Where did your friend go? He’s so cool,” Oliver yells from the back.

“He just…” I try to wet my mouth from how dry it is and grab a plastic cup. Filling it with ice-cold water, I chug it. “He had to go.”

He might be able to fool others, but he can’t fool me.

My father’s fortune is the most wanted treasure in the criminal world, and I know Luca wants it. Playing with me in order to get it is one thing, but my kids?

No one uses my kids as a pawn in their chess game.