Secret Babies for the Italian Mafia Boss

Table of Contents Secret Babies for the Italian Mafia Boss Chapter One Chapter Two Chapter Three Chapter Four Chapter Five Chapter Six Chapter Seven Chapter Eight Chapter Nine Chapter Ten Chapter Eleven Chapter Twelve Chapter Thirteen Chapter Fourteen Chapter Fifteen Chapter Sixteen Chapter Seventeen Chapter Eighteen Chapter Nineteen Epilogue Secret Babies for the Italian Mafia Boss By Rosalie Rose All Rights Reserved. Copyright 2023 Rosalie Rose This story is a work of fiction and any portrayal of any person living or dead is purely coincidental and not intended. CLICK HERE to subscribe to my newsletter & get EXCLUSIVE updates on all offers, secret previews, and new releases! Chapter One Camilla Twenty-first birthday. Comfort is disregarded when it’s your birthday. I think it’s a cardinal rule. I don’t like it. I’ve never been the type to put on a tight dress and high heels. I like comfort. Give me jeans and a t-shirt or sweatpants. God, I love sweatpants. But it’s my birthday and not just any birthday. I’m twenty-one, and my friends refuse for me to go out in joggers and a hoodie. “Well, you clean up nice.” Cora runs her fingers through my fresh curls and grabs my shoulder. “Close your eyes.” “Cora.” “Listen to her,” Jasmine says as she zips up the fourth dress she’s made me try on. “Because you need to be surprised with how amazing you look. Who knew all this was hiding under all those frumpy clothes.” I smack her arm and chuckle. “You act like I never dress up. I did for graduation.” “That was months ago!” Jasmine sounds appalled. “Okay, enough. It doesn’t matter. What matters is how you’ll walk into the club tonight having men break their necks while looking at you because, damn, babe, you look hot!” Cora spins me around to face the mirror. “Are you ready?” “Yes.” I was ready to get on with the night and get home at a decent hour so I could crawl into bed and put on my favorite show I’d seen a thousand times. I’m a creature of habit. I think that I partly blame my father. I grew up in a very strict household. My father is a powerful man with powerful enemies, so I was protected at all costs. My school was private with the best security. I don’t remember a day when I didn’t have a bodyguard. I’m so used to being alone that I’ve grown accustomed to it. I prefer it. I like not having anyone to impress, and it gives me time to think about myself and what I want. “Okay. Open.” With a deep breath, I do as she says, and I gasp when I see myself. “Right? You look phenomenal,” Jasmine nearly squeals. I take in my appearance and smile, feeling confident and sexy. I haven’t felt like this in—well—never. My long dark hair is curled, and my makeup isn’t too heavy, but a light shimmering color on my eyelids causes my coffee-colored eyes to pop. The dress is strapless and stops at my midthigh. Silver sequins glimmer in the light, and I already feel them scratching my underarm. I’m going to want this dress off in less than an hour, and the night has only started. The heels are bright red, adding four inches to my height, and I tell myself I’ll soak my feet in hot water tomorrow because there’s no doubt they will be sore. “But let’s not forget,” Cora sings, draping a sash over my shoulder. “Buy me a drink. I’m twenty-one. Cash app is….” I dip my chin and blink at her. “Really?” “Babe, you aren’t paying for your own drinks tonight. No way. Not looking like this.” She smacks my ass, and I giggle, snagging my purse from the chair in the corner. “What are we waiting for, then? Let’s go.” I trip over my own two feet, and Jasmine catches me while Cora yelps. Clearing my throat, I straighten, rubbing my hands down my dress. “I’m fine. I’ll be okay.” “Five bucks she falls by the end of the night,” Cora mumbles. “Ten, she sprains an ankle,” Jasmine counters. “I’m here. I’m still right here. I can hear you.” I walk out of my bedroom, taking the hallway slowly and carefully so I don’t trip in these heels again. My friends giggle behind me, and our heels kiss against the hardwood floor. Its sounds like we are on a mission, and in a way, we are. I know Cora is. Jasmine is along for the fun, but in this group, it’s Cora who calls the shots. “You look beautiful,” my father says as he stands from his chair. Like always, he is in a pristine suit. He kisses my cheek and snaps his fingers. “Marco. You stay with them at all times.” “Dad, can’t I have this one night without a guard?” I ask so my friends can’t hear me. “As a birthday present? Please?” He sighs, staring at me as if he is actually thinking about it. “He takes you to where you go and waits for you outside the building. He won’t go in. That’s my compromise.” “Really?” I squeal way too loud because I never thought he would go for it. “Really?” “Yes, really. But if you’re in trouble, you send him your code word.” “I swear. I promise. Yes.” I bounce from the excitement. “And what’s the word?” He makes me say it every time I leave the house. “Pizza.” Because it’s my favorite thing in the entire world. He nods, leaning forward again to kiss me on the forehead. “I want updates. I want to know you’re safe. You have your credit card on you?” “I do.” “Good. Always get—” “V.I.P. I know, Dad. I’m going to go. Thank you for letting me have a night without Marco. No offense, Marco.” “None taken, Ms. Thompson. I understand the need for independence,” he says, giving me a small head bow. “Okay. Go. Be safe,”