Page 36 of Secret Baby for the Mafia Don

Antonio looks at me questioningly. At first, I’m worried he’s wondering how she’d be in a position to overhear me talking to Roman. I can only imagine she’d been waiting outside my office planning another one of her sexcapades, as she called them.

Instead, I go with answering her question. “I don’t know what you overheard, but it wasn’t about taking over your family’s territory. If I were to guess, I’d say that what you overheard was Roman asking what would happen if Luca never returned. I said we would run it until your father decided what to do next." I clench my jaw, irritated that I'm defending myself against accusations that should never have existed. "Not take it over. Protect it."

She shakes her head slightly, not fully buying it. "And I'm supposed to just believe that?"

I look at Antonio.

He should be dealing with her, not me.

But he doesn’t chime in.

The larger than life man I saw a moment ago appears tired, weary.

I speak to him next. “This isn't working. We need a solution, one that keeps all of us safe."

"Marco," Antonio starts, but I cut him off.

"Your daughter is a liability right now. The FBI is circling, La Corona is watching, and she's drawing attention to exactly what we're trying to hide." I level my gaze at Antonio. "She needs to leave New York. Immediately."

"What?" Gabriella's voice rises in indignation.

"Luca's villa in Italy. It's remote, secure, and far from Blackwood's reach." I picture it, the sprawling estate nestled among vineyards, miles from any prying eyes. Miles from me. "She stays there until this blows over."

"You can't just ship me off like some problem to be handled!" Her eyes flash with anger. "I'm not a child!"

"Then stop acting like one." The words spew out in frustration. “You’re impulsive, selfish, and fail to follow directions. Doesn’t that sound childish to you?”

"My father needs me here."

I laugh derisively. "Not like this, he doesn't. You're going to get him killed or tossed in jail. Is that what you want?"

Antonio sighs heavily. "Marco has a point, Gabriella. Perhaps some distance would be?—"

"I can't believe you're taking his side!" She turns on her father, hurt in her eyes. "After everything I've done to protect you?"

"That's exactly the problem," I interject. "Your version of protection is making things worse. You think you're helping, but you're creating vulnerabilities."

It’s ironic that her impulsivity is both her strength and her greatest weakness.

The same trait that led her to my library last Christmas, that made her break things off without confronting me about why, that drove her to meet with a federal agent in broad daylight.

She acts on instinct, on emotion, with little regard for consequences.

"You rush into situations without thinking them through," I continue. "You make decisions based on what you feel or think rather than what you know. And in our world, that gets people killed."

Her cheeks flush with anger. "Don't pretend you know me."

"I know enough." The memory of her body against mine flashes unbidden. "I know you're reckless. Headstrong. Too convinced of your own righteousness to see the damage you're causing."

Antonio raises a hand. "Marco, please."

But I can't stop now.

"Every business you've visited is now under scrutiny. Every captain you've questioned is now wondering why you’re there and not Antonio. You’re undermining your father’s authority and power, making them question who’s really in charge. And now the FBI knows there's discord in the Monti family." I shake my head. "Your impulsiveness isn't just dangerous. It's potentially fatal."

She stares at me with pure hate. "So your solution is to exile me? To send me away like I'm the problem?"

"You are the problem," I say flatly. "And until you can see that, distance is the only solution that doesn't end with bloodshed."