Top Dog
Page 3
“He is,” I said. “Matteo’s your son.”
“I would like to see him.”
“No,” I said plainly.
“You just said he’s my son. I would enjoy being a part of his life. Something your father didn’t give me a chance to do.”
“Are you done blaming a dead man for your quarrels?” I asked.
I watched his eyebrows shoot up to his hairline. Yeah, I wasn't the timid, meek-minded girl from seven years ago. I had a son, and I meant to keep him out of the hands of the families. I was determined to keep him away from this lifestyle, to shield him from everything I’d witnessed as a little girl.
“You can’t see him,” I said.
“Might I ask why?”
“Because I’m keeping him away from everything to do with—”
I bit down onto the inside of my cheek as Romeo nodded his head.
“I see.”
“Why did you do it?” I asked.
“Do what?”
“Why did you take your father’s place?”
I watched something flash behind his eyes, but I couldn’t decipher what it was. Guilt. Pain. Possibly anger? I wasn’t sure. That was the thing with Romeo. He was good at covering up his feelings.
The first time he told me he loved me, I wasn’t even expecting it.
“You won’t let me see my son because I took over my family’s business,” Romeo said.
“That’s correct.”
“Your side isn’t exactly innocent in all that’s gone on between our families,” Romeo reminded me. “The mafia has no bearing on whether or not I can see my son.”
“The mafia also has no bearing on me allowing my son in your presence. I’m not here at the behest of myself. I won’t put my son in the line of fire if I don’t have to.”
“Then whose behest are you here regarding?” Romeo asked.
I drew in a deep breath and closed my eyes.
“You have to understand where I’m coming from,” I said. “Matteo is precious. A boy full of curiosity and light. A life in the mafia—”
I opened my eyes and saw our waitress headed to our table. She placed our food in front of us, but I was no longer hungry. This was a mistake. If Romeo seeing Matteo was what Uncle Stefano wanted to use to bring peace, I couldn't make that happen.
Matteo wasn’t a bargaining chip.
I got peace. I enjoyed peace. I understood the need for it. But I couldn’t do it. As much as I wanted to support my uncle’s agenda, the mere idea of exposing Matteo to the world of the mafia immobilized me.
I couldn't do it.
“I had dreams, you know,” I said.
“Dreams of what?” Romeo asked.
“Of you coming back. Of me introducing you to your son. Of us running away together with Matteo and starting a new life.”