Christian narrowed his eyes. “I can protect my sister, don’t worry.”
“Leave,” I ordered.
Elia nodded, but it was obvious that he didn’t like the idea. Still, he turned and left. After a moment, the front door opened then closed. Would he report back to Cassio again?
Christian shook his head. “Cassio keeps you on a short leash.”
I couldn’t talk about my marriage with him. It would only prove Cassio right that he had trouble trusting me.
“How’s Mom in her new role as rising star in our circles?”
Christian scoffed, but he took me up on my offer for a topic change. “She sees it endangered now that they had to take in Kiara.”
“Our cousin did nothing wrong. Her father is the traitor, not her.”
“You know how it is. She’ll suffer for his sins anyway. The children always do for the sins of their fathers.”
Was he referring to Dad’s mediocre reputation, which led many people to believe that Christian, too, wouldn’t be a good Underboss one day? Or was he referring to Cassio and Daniele?
“I’m going to call today and talk to Kiara. I wanted to give her a few days to recover from what happened.”
“I doubt you can recover from seeing your mother being killed by your own father.”
“Are we still talking about our uncle, or are you trying to hint at something else? If you’re trying to subtly tell me something, it’s not working.”
Christian took another cookie. “I don’t know what you mean.”
“Of course you do. I thought you didn’t know what happened to Gaia? Was that a lie?”
“No. I just think it’s strange that Daniele avoids Cassio and doesn’t talk. That kind of trauma usually requires a strong catalyst.”
“Losing your mother in any way at that age is a strong catalyst.”
Christian gave a tense smile. “At least, Dad’s still happy about your bond with Cassio.” After that, we only talked about Dad, who was already reaping the fruits of my marriage to Cassio. Fewer people talked about him behind his back, too scared of my husband. I doubted Cassio would come to Dad’s help, though, unless I asked him to perhaps.
Simona scrunched up her face.
I sighed. “That expression means I need to change her diaper. Do you want to stay down here?”
Christian shook his head. “I can handle it. I’ve seen worse.”
I picked up Simona and we headed upstairs into her nursery. On the way, I noticed that the door to Gaia’s old room was ajar. I put Simona down on the changing table. I’d check on Daniele afterward.
Christian’s face twisted in disgust when I opened the diaper. He’d definitely never changed his child’s diaper.
“I thought you could handle it?” I teased, even if my own nose twitched at the stench, especially when Simona had any kind of meat before—like today.
“That doesn’t mean I enjoy it.”
“I don’t enjoy it either, but someone has to do it,” I said, then tickled Simona’s belly, causing her to grin. “Right?”
“Dad should have never forced you into this position. You are too young to take care of two little kids, who aren’t even your own.”
It was starting to annoy me that everyone kept saying that. Mom, now Christian, and even Cassio kept calling them his kids. We hadn’t been married long, but I wished he’d see how much I already cared about them. “I can handle it, Christian,” I snapped. “It’s not easy, but I’m stubborn.”
“True.”
I threw him an indignant look but couldn’t really stay mad at him seeing the grin that had accompanied my childhood. Once I was done with Simona, I put her into her crib. I could tell that she was tired. She had refused to go down for her nap at noon. She cried when I stepped back, so I bent over her and rocked the crib until her eyes drooped once more. But the moment I tried to go away, she started wailing again. This time I didn’t go to her, hoping she’d settle down. Some people said you needed to let the kids soothe themselves and let them cry, but I found that impossibly hard to do.
“She’s really demanding,” Christian commented, leaning in the doorway with crossed arms.
I picked Simona up, trying to figure out what was wrong. She kept wailing then without warning she spit up on me and herself.
“Eww,” Christian said.
With a sigh, I changed her clothes before I put her into the crib again. This time she quieted after a couple of minutes. I motioned for Christian to be silent as we walked out and closed the door. He eyed the vomit on my shirt and in my hair. “Aren’t you going to change?”
I snorted. “No. I like smelling like a bar on Sunday morning.”
“As if you know how a bar smells.”
I didn’t. I’d never been allowed in one, and not necessarily because of my age. Cassio probably wouldn’t let me set foot in one once I turned twenty-one either. I walked into the bedroom, trying not to pay too close attention to my ruined shirt. The stench was bad enough. Christian looked around curiously. Would Cassio be angry that I brought someone else into his private quarters? He and Christian had worked together for years, but they certainly weren’t friends.