Page 59 of Secret Baby for the Mafia Don

It’s too late for him, but me, I’ll avoid love like the plague.

“For now, let’s focus on keeping your father safe and ferreting out our rat, okay?”

She shrugs. “You’re the boss.”

I snort. “Right. You’ve never listened to anyone.”

She bites her lip. “I listen when it makes sense. But not to old, misogynistic men from the Middle Ages.”

“Old? You called me old and dusty the other day. You didn’t think I was so old when—” I stop myself in horror.

Was I really going to bring up how much she loved fucking me?

She arches a brow. “Then, old meant experienced. Now…” She gives me a once-over and my dick rises to full attention.

Fucking traitor.

She shrugs and turns away as if she too realizes she’s about to go into territory we should avoid at all costs. “I’m wiser.”

“You are that.”

Her eyes flick up, surprise evident. "Did the great Marco Calabresi just give me a compliment?"

"Don't get used to it."I think I just winked. Good God!

She gives me a smirk as if she knows I just freaked myself out. “I’m heading up.” She goes to the door but then stops. "Oh, before I forget, the Winter Village outing is coming up. You're going, right?"

I groan. “I always go.”

She tilts her head, studying me. "You really hate Christmas, don't you?"

"What's to like? Forced cheer, meaningless traditions, everyone pretending to be happy." I shrug, uncomfortable with her scrutiny. "It's all bullshit."

“It’s not bullshit.” Her gaze doesn’t leave my face, and I feel exposed, like she’s seeing the most hidden parts of my psyche.

"Don't." The word comes harsh, nearly a growl. "Don't look at me like that."

"Like what?"

"Like I'm some wounded animal that needs saving from my Grinch-like existence. I don't need your pity." I start to pour another drink until I realize it will be my third… or is it forth?

"It's not pity. It's just… sad. Christmas is magical."

I snort. "Christmas is a commercial enterprise designed to empty wallets and fill landfills."

Gabriella's eyes light up, dreamy and wistful, and I immediately regret giving her an opening.

"The lights twinkling, the smell of pine and baked goods, the carols, the way families come together."

"Sounds like a Hallmark movie nightmare."

She sighs dramatically. "I love it. Especially being with family."

I shake my head. "In case you haven't noticed, I don't have family to gather with or children to watch open presents."

"That's your fault," she says, rolling her eyes with an audacity that would get anyone else thrown out of my office. "And of course you have family. You have Roman and La Corona."

"La Corona is business, not family."