Page 95 of Mafia Love

“He means have the cop here who wanted your woman and probably wants to steal your son,” Claudius filled in, sipping on his beer. He quirked a brow and narrowed his eyes at me.

“Do you know how ridiculous that sounds?” I challenged.

“Yes. Course I do. The man’s still after your woman and he wants to steal your baby. Woman first though.”

“Do you see Amelia here?”

“That doesn’t mean squat,” Maurice jumped in, curling his lips under in distaste. “She’s teaching. He knows what time she’ll be back. Also, I saw him at the school, hanging around outside like a creeper.”

“What were you doing at the school? Signing up for dance lessons?” I laughed. “Pretty certain Amelia could give you a one-on-one and have you doing leaps through the air in no time. Come Christmas, you could be the sugar plum fairy.”

Even Claudius laughed at that.

“Very funny, wise guy. I was actually following him.” Maurice smirked.

“You don’t need to do that. What would you have done if Amelia caught you?”

“Dance, and style it out.” He nodded.

“Right.” Claudius shook his head. “I can just imagine you doing that. She’d probably slap you for making a mockery of her profession.”

Like always, talking about dancing made me think of how much Amelia loved it. My wife loved dancing, and I was so proud to tell anyone who asked that she was a teacher and ran her own dance school. Her own dance school here in Chicago and a summer school in Italy I’d built for her on the grounds of the vineyard, where I set up business to procure the finest wine and grow the most exotic bonsai trees.

That’s what I did now for a living. Both there and Chicago. I put myself and my skills to good use, and true to his word, Maurice followed me wherever I went. He’d given up the mobster life too and worked with me.

“I still don’t trust him,” Maurice huffed.

“Nor I.” Claudius drank more beer.

“Well, I do,” I replied with conviction and returned my gaze to Sinclaire and Raphael.

We’d had this conversation many times. When Sinclaire came to visit, he didn’t just come to see Amelia. He came to see us as a family.

I owed him a lot. He’d made a lot possible for me. If not for him, I’d still be in prison seeing my sentence through with five months left to go.

There’d been no parole mentioned for me probably because that minimum sentence was all they could pin on me. My crimes were so much more severe than the punishment I’d received.

Because of Sinclaire, I’d been able to make it home for my baby’s delivery, which ironically was two weeks after I’d been released. Raphael had come early, and I was so happy I’d been there to welcome him into the world and be there for Amelia as she gave birth to him.

So, no matter what, Sinclaire was good in my books. He didn’t have to do what he did for me. He never had to. I knew I would always be indebted to him.

Sinclaire picked up Raphael and brought him over to where we sat.

The two were laughing.

Sinclaire handed him to me, and I took my boy proudly, loving that he put his little arms around my neck.

“That kid gives me a whole month’s workout.” Sinclaire smiled, taking the seat next to me.

“He’ll probably go to sleep now for hours.” I brushed my nose over Raphael’s tiny one.

“That’s good, right?”

“For him.”

“So, you guys done talking about me?” Sinclaire looked at Claudius and Maurice.

“No, so much more to say,” Claudius answered, resting back against the chair.