“I won’t wake her. I promise.”
He doesn’t hesitate this time. With more trust than I deserve, he nods again. “Second door on the right.”
After smiling at him in thanks, I walk down the long hallway.
Camille’s room is different from what I expect. It’s filled with pastel colors and intricate details that show how much thought went into its design. Fairy lights emphasize the stud-pressed headboard, and a fluffyrug under her bed makes sure any accidental falls are well cushioned. A bookshelf sits at the right of her bed, its shelves overflowing with stories fit for a little princess.
I send thanks to God for quality workmanship when I tiptoe across the floorboards without a single creak. If only I could say the same for the snow globe I place down on the bedside table. I haven’t cranked the musical dial in weeks, but it plays a faint melody that instantly wakes Camille.
“I’m so sorry,” I say, my eyes darting to the door, expecting Dante’s arrival at any moment.
When his impressive frame fails to fill the door after several heart-pounding seconds, I shift my focus back to Camille. “Go back to sleep, sweetheart. I didn’t mean to wake you.”
She brushes away a strand of hair stuck to her pillow-creased cheek before she scoots up in bed. My panic eases into happiness when her eyes shift to the peace offering I brought her. It’s a little boyish since the castle, horse, and carriage of the castle-themed globe are blue, but she gazes at it as if it’s the most precious gift in the world.
Her excitement is too infectious not to feed off it.
“It’s a musical snow globe.” I lift it carefully, turn it over as I did with the toy plane hours ago, then twist the crank. Once it’s turned all the way, I shake the globe, then balance it in my palm.
When the horse and carriage circle the castle, Camille beams. The twinkling of the fairy lights in her room makes the scene even more magical, and her happiness swells my heart with pride.
“Do you like it?” I ask, fighting not to cry.
She nods so fast that if Dante didn’t know she was awake, he does now.
“Good. I’m glad.”
When I place it on the bedside table, next to a photo of Dante and her, she peers at me as if to say,It’s mine?
I nod.
God, I wish she weren’t so easy to read. She doesn’t need words to communicate. Her expressions tell the entire story.
Why?
“Because…” I try to explain my mistake in a way that won’t dampen her confidence. I love that she has a voice, but I don’t want to be responsible for her getting in trouble for that. The rules governing the mafia differ from those of a standard family. She doesn’t have the same power as those around her, and despite my desire to tell her to pay them no attention, that could cause her more harm than good. “I didn’t mean to make you feel like you had to give away your clothes, Camille. I was being stubborn and… stupid.”
Her brows furrow before she shakes her head.
“You loved those clothes, so you should have kept them. Your daddy bought them for you.”
Her headshake shifts to a nod, and then she walks to the closet. She opens one side, and I gasp. Every outfit we picked today hangs neatly inside, untouched.
“But… I thought…”
She opens the other side of the closet, exposing more clothes. These ones are still in boutique bags, but it doesn’t take a genius to realize what they are. They’re duplicates of the clothes I gave away.
“He bought double?” I whisper, certain my head is playing tricks on me. It’s been a long day, so it’s understandable.
Camille nods proudly, slowly learning how precious her father is. This isn’t something anyone I’ve met in the Cosa Nostra would do. They’d never be so generous.
My eyes sting as I swallow hard, but before I get close to getting a hold of my shock, Dante appears in the doorway. He props his shoulder against the frame, then drifts his eyes to Camille. “You’ll be as grouchy as Uncle Matteo tomorrow if you stay up all night. In bed, young lady.”
Camille gives him the full arsenal—wide eyes, pouty lip, and begging hands.
“I’ve already read you a story. Three, actually.”
Her bottom lip barely drops a smidge before he sighs, defeated. “One story. Then straight to sleep.”