His: Tony: The Sabatini Family by Fiona Murphy (sneezy the snowman read aloud TXT) 📕

eyes flick over the movement. I see his curiosity, yet he says nothing, and chuckles as Carmella tells him she has the perfect woman for him.

Dominic’s cell phone rings. He glances at Tony as he stands and answers it, walking out of the kitchen as he does. Tony gives my hand a soft squeeze before he gets up and follows Dominic. “I’ll be back.”

***

Tony

Dominic is ending his call as I enter my office. I close the door and wait for it, making a beeline for my scotch as I do. “Drink?”

“No. That was the guy. He’s willing to take me on as a client, asked for a few days to get me what I need.” His arms are crossed as he studies me. “What the hell is going on?”

I sip my scotch as I settle into a chair by the fireplace. “I found my woman. I didn’t expect it. I sure as fuck wasn’t looking for her, but I’m too fucking old to let her slip through my fingers after all this time.”

“Christ, she’s younger than me. Where the hell did you even find her?”

I consider the question, shrugging I decide to keep as close to the truth as possible. If he asks Vito or Joseph, they’ll tell him. “She came to live and work in the building.”

“Are you serious?” He goes to the scotch and pours a few fingers, swallowing it in one take.

“Calm down. She’s been with one man her entire life. She had no business there. Lisa, one of the women in the building talked her into it.” I shrug.

“Christy has been through some shit. Her husband was a fucker who cheated pretty much their whole marriage. She wanted a baby and lost two she only got through fertility treatments. When she lost the last one, it fucked her up and she lost her nursing job. The woman is intelligent but not street smart. She’s down to fumes and needed a way to support herself.”

Dominic glares at the scotch on the shelf. “You and those damn eighteenth-century writers. This isn’t Jane Austen. I get she’s been through some shit. If I didn’t know you never lie to me, I wouldn’t believe she’s been with one man her whole life. At thirty, that makes her practically a virgin. She has that doe-eyed look to her. You playing savior to someone as messed up as she is could come back worse than how shit went down with Mom.”

I bite my tongue. He doesn’t need to know how I met Christy. It doesn’t mean shit. All that matters is I did. “You really think after all this time and as many women as I’ve had, I don’t know that? This isn’t about saving Christy. It’s about me finally finding my woman. I’m aware the twenty-year age difference and her shitty past means things aren’t going to be easy. Hard hasn’t stopped me before, it’s not going to now.”

Putting his glass down, he sighs as his eyes meet mine. An ache hits me—my boy, my own fucking heart beating outside of my chest. The hell I’ve been through for him. All of it was worth it. I would do it all over again, no hesitation. I need him to accept this, accept Christy as my woman and in my life.

He sighs. “If she is what you want, what you need, I’m not going to do anything but support you. Just because I don’t believe in happily ever after doesn’t mean it can’t happen for you and her. And if it goes sideways, I won’t say I told you so or any obnoxious shit. I’ll be here if you need me.”

“Grazie,” I murmur as I finish my scotch. Smartass.

The little shit chuckles. “I’m going to head into the real estate office. There are some contracts I need to look over and have you sign off on.”

“I’ll be in after a bit.” With me needing to take Christy with me, I’ll wait until he’s gone. I don’t want him wondering why I’m taking her everywhere. Up to now, the time with my mistresses was kept to a carefully maintained part of my day. I went to their place, or we went out for dinner, the theater, and other outings. My time with them was in the evening, I never brought them into the office with me.

“You going to tell me what went down with you and Carlo?” He narrows his eyes on me.

I raise an eyebrow and shake my head, not surprised he heard something happened. Mafia men are worse about gossip than any woman I’ve ever met. I managed to keep me as the go-to hitter from him all this time, I’m not going to tell him now. Out of protection for the designated hitter, they weren’t named beyond the person needing the hit and the Don who approved the hit taking place and named the hitter.

A long time ago, I admitted to him how deep I got into losing myself in bloodlust and killing so many men I lost track and a part of my soul. There was no pride as I told him. It was to prevent him going down the same road I did. If he knew, he’d resent Johnny. I don’t want him to when it was my own damn fault for letting it go so long.

A small nod. “Fine, be that way.”

10

Christy

Sorting through my things brought from my place confusion overcomes me. Who was this person? The memory of what Lisa said flashes. How I had become someone else from who I used to be. At the time, I shrugged off the painful words. Of course, I was going to change from who I was at ten years old. It was a part of growing up. Only as I look through my things, they don’t fit me. I don’t think they ever did.

These things are for someone I wanted to be. The woman who had her life coordinated by color, every day plotted and planned. Self-help books