My Husband Chose the Wrong Mafia Princess novel · Chapter 12 of 16

Chapter 12: Ten Years

"Let him," I said.

Santino looked at me across the kitchen island.

"Let him in? To your father's gala?"

"He wants to kneel to the Albanese heir," I said. "I think he should get the chance."

Carlo made a small sound on the speaker.

"Gianna will want to come," he said. "She'll beg me for the invitation."

"Give it to her," I said. "Seat them up front."

Carlo hung up.

Santino kept looking at me.

"What?" I said.

"Nothing," he said. "You scare me a little."

"Only a little?"

"I'm working up to it."

My father got worse that week.

The doctor came every morning now.

He spoke to Santino in the hall in a low voice, and Santino came back with his jaw tight.

On Thursday my father couldn't get down the stairs.

He sat up in bed with Rosa on his chest instead, the way she liked.

She held on to his finger and wouldn't let go.

"She's strong," he said.

"She gets that from you."

"She gets that from you," he said. "I used to think you were soft. Like your mother's side."

"Mama wasn't soft."

"No." He smiled at the ceiling. "No, she wasn't. I was wrong about both of you."

He turned his head and looked at me.

"Saturday I tell them," he said. "Then I rest."

"Papa, don't talk like that."

"Mara. I'm sixty-six and my heart's a wet paper bag. Let me say what I want."

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