Submitting to My Best Friend's Dad by Scarlett Rossi
Chapter 481 -

*Olivia*

"Oh, there's my beautiful little man," I cooed as I lifted Elio out of his car seat. "Mama!" he replied as I settled him on my hip and turned to face the compound.

The sun rested high in the sky overhead, and Gio was getting our bags out of the trunk. A driver had picked us up instead of riding the helicopter home. I was glad for the slower drive to separate vacation from reality.

But now we were finally home, the ease of Naples falling away the longer I stood in the driveway and let Elio grab at my hair. I disentangled him absently and offered him a small ring of plastic keys instead.

I sighed. He'd been an absolute dream to travel with, like always. As long as Gio or I read to him, he'd pass out anywhere. But this was his first time on a plane, so I'd still been worried.

I shouldn't have thought twice about it. He whimpered and pressed on his ears a little as we took off and landed, but beyond that, he'd napped, played, and toddled around the cabin just as excitedly as he had in the hotel. Sometimes, it was hard to believe he was only a year old.

But that didn't change the unhappy expression on my face.

Gio circled around the car, suitcases in hand.

"What are you thinking, carina?" he asked.

I turned to him and tried to muster a smile. "Just happy to be home?"

He laughed at me. "Don't lie to a mafia Don if you're that bad at it."

"Alright." I slumped dramatically, and Elio giggled.

Gio smiled. "Seriously, though. What's going on in your head?"

I nuzzled our son. "I was thinking I'd like to skip the next couple of months and get right to the part where everything is back to normal."

Gio pressed a slightly awkward kiss to my shoulder, swinging the bags out of the way to get access. "I wish you could as well. If I could handle this in a phone call, I would have."

I smiled. "I know that. But we've got to take the long, not-nearly-boring-enough route there."

"Can we take the short route inside?" he asked. "We picked up a lot of souvenirs."

I laughed and led him to the front door. Once we got inside, I set Elio down so he could crawl over the suitcases to his heart's content. He'd tried to pack himself in them three or four times while we were getting ready this morning. My phone rang, and I plucked it out of my pocket.

Sal.

I grimaced and silenced the call. He'd reached out every day, if not a couple of times a day, since that last lunch. I had half a dozen unanswered calls, and God only knew how many texts.

Gio raised an eyebrow at me, and I shook my head.

"Spam," I lied easily.

"We're going to have to get your number resecured," he answered.

I hadn't told Gio about the calls. I couldn't, because then I'd have to tell him I wasn't refusing to answer because Sal was some kind of Russian spy, but because my feelings were hurt. Because I still couldn't help but take it personally. It didn't feel like mob business to me. It felt like my dad had betrayed me.

Dahlia raced down the hall with a huge smile on her face and her arms open. "You're home!"

I opened my arms in anticipation of one of her high-speed hugs, but she scooped up Elio instead.

"Dally!" he yelled.

She spun him in a little circle, and he giggled wildly.

"Oh, I have missed my little nephew!" she said. "I got you a special new toy, and Maria's making your favorite for dinner."

I laughed. "His favorite?"

She stopped spinning and looked at me seriously. "Messy foods, duh."

I laughed so hard I almost burst into tears. Despite everything with my father and the fear and exhaustion of going up against the Russians again, just seeing Dahlia and Elio together almost made everything worthwhile. It reminded me that whatever disaster came, I had a family worth fighting for.

Gio came up behind me and put his hands on my shoulders.

"How much do you want to bet that special new toy is something really irritating to make us stay home next time?" he whispered in my ear.

"Oh, anything you like," I replied. "My best friend Dahlia wouldn't do that to me."

She looked up. "Do what?"

"Get an intentionally annoying toy for our son," I answered with a grin.

Dahlia looked away. "Noooo... of course not."

Gio and I broke into laughter.

Tallon stepped into the entryway wearing a lilac suit that didn't match his serious expression. "Hate to break up the wholesome family fun, but I've got business. Can we talk?"

Gio's hands tightened fractionally on my shoulders, like he wanted to hold on. Then, he released me and turned to Tallon.

"Now?"

Tallon nodded.

I raised an eyebrow. "Should I come with?"

Dahlia grabbed my arm. "You literally can't leave me alone in a situation this ominous."

I looked at Gio. The hard mask of the Don was starting to settle into place, but I could still see my husband at the edges.

My husband looked tired and worried, but not like he was blocking me out.

I nodded. "Tell me everything when you're done."

He squeezed my hand and left with Tallon. Dahlia and I drifted into the living room with Elio in tow, abandoning our suitcases to be picked up later.

"Okay, so last I saw you, you were going on a fun apology sex trip with Gio." She kissed Elio on the head. "What changed?"

I collapsed on the couch. "Everything and nothing, you know?"

"Olive, if I have to wring details out of you, I will." She sat on the couch across from me.

I put my hands up. "No wringing needed! I'm just tired."

She smiled comfortingly. "Fair enough. I'll respect your snail-like pace."

I grimaced. I didn't want to tell the story at a snail's pace. I kind of didn't want to tell it at all, but I needed it out of my head to make sense of.

"So, Sal was lying about the bathroom, right?" I said.

She nodded. "Is it Sal now, not your dad?"

I hadn't even realized I changed the way I referred to him. I covered my face and groaned.

"I don't know!" I took a deep breath and steadied myself. "I really, really don't know."

"I won't mention him directly," she said in the overly chipper tone I knew meant she was worried about me.

I flipped onto my stomach and tried to figure out how to tell this in order without getting sidetracked by my feelings.

Elio rattled his keys enthusiastically.

"I guess... the bathroom was the last straw," I said finally. "There was all this mounting evidence he wasn't just here for good reasons, and that was the thing that finally got it through my thick skull." Dahlia made a small, sympathetic noise. "What do you think he's doing?"

What an impossible question-I could barely think about the man without hurt and nerves and anger balling together into roiling nausea in my gut.

"Gio thinks he's a spy for the Russians. Dmitri's second, to be specific," I said instead.

Dahlia blanched and clutched Elio a little closer. She'd survived Dmitri's last reign of terror against Dmitri's best efforts, and I could understand why she especially didn't want to face him again.

"So he's Russian," she said a little shakily. "And they have to take him down quickly, before the Russians catch wind? Is that all?"

I shook my head. "Alessandro had people tailing a few Russians, and one of them got spotted or something. We've lost the element of surprise."

Dahlia grimaced and bounced Elio. "Not ideal, but they can figure it out, I'm sure."

I flopped facedown on the couch. People kept saying things like "figure it out" or "handle it" and I didn't know how to square those phrases with the images I had of Sal, his eyes soft as he thought about my mom. I didn't like thinking about the raids and guns and sprays of blood that tended to accompany phrases like that.

"Olive?" Dahlia said, suddenly closer.

I turned my head to the side and found her crouching next to my couch with Elio still in her arms.

"I'm sorry," she said softly.

I furrowed my eyebrows.

She brushed some hair away from my face. "You deserved a really good dad-like, the best dad. And I'm sorry Sal didn't turn out to be that."

Under her gentle ministrations, tears slipped silently down my face. I hadn't taken very long to grieve him yet, or to grieve the concept of a dad since I never really knew him, and that sorrow overwhelmed me suddenly. Elio's small, sticky hand landed on my cheek, harder than I might've liked.

"Mama?" he said.

I sat up and smiled at his concern. "Yes, Elio. Mamas cry too sometimes. But I'm all right, see?"

I wiped away my own tears, just like I would have his. He tried to help, messily and a little painfully, but my heart overflowed with love for him. Maybe I didn't have the perfect dad, or even an okay one, but I had my perfect son. "Sal " I started.

My phone rang. I pulled it out, but as if I'd summoned him, Salvatore Montgomery blared across the display once more.

Dahlia peeked at the screen as I ignored the call.

"He's called every day since we left," I said, "sometimes more than once."

She joined me on the couch. "What does he want?"

I laughed wetly. "I don't know. I haven't read any of his texts or listened to his voicemails."

She nodded. "Every day is kind of intense."

"I know." I stared down at the phone in my hand, still showing his name though it didn't ring aloud anymore. "It's kind of like he's getting desperate to see me."

She frowned. "That's not a great word."

"It's probably just that the Russians are back in the mix." I shook my head and turned my phone over. "I spent weeks getting to know him. I don't think he'd do anything stupid."

Dahlia ran her hand up and down Elio's back, and her face grew serious. A brief surge of protective instinct I thought I'd killed when I realized Sal wasn't what he seemed raced for my mouth.

"I'm not worried about it," I said quickly.

"I'm not either," she said slowly. "Because if he does do anything stupid, and one of us gets hurt, Gio and my brothers are going to make him pay."

My heart leaped into my throat. I didn't like the careful way she moved, how quickly Sal became the enemy, someone to "make pay."

She shook her head and brought her voice up to a high-pitched coo. "But we shouldn't be talking about that in front of little Elio."

I swallowed. "Right."

She nuzzled his hair. "Whaddya say we play a new game, huh? I learned some great ones while you were gone."

Elio clapped, and I nodded mutely.

As Dahlia pulled the table out of the way and moved Elio to the floor, I realized with total certainty that I didn't want Sal hurt. He might be a Russian spy, and he might be a shithead who ran out on my mother and me until we were useful to him, but he was still my dad, whatever that meant anymore. I couldn't picture him injured, much less dead. I'd rather he ran away again, leaving him the opportunity to come back and hurt us again someday.

What kind of person did that make me?