Page 44 of Mafia Billionaire's Surprise Baby

“What pictures did you use for our passports?”

“Two of the ones we had on file.”

“How similar do we look to the pictures Interpol has up?”

He pauses. “Very.”

Fuck.

“Let’s go. We need makeup and you need a wig.”

“You don’t?”

I sigh. “You know that I’m better at this than you are, Sal. Might as well own it.”

He grabs my elbow and steers me gently out of the airport. With my sunglasses on and the Gucci scarf covering my hair, we can walk by the police without worrying too much about them.

Plus. Confidence is half the battle.

“Drugstore,” I whisper.

I have no idea what drugstore is in Danish, but I’m assuming that Sal at least has some kind of working knowledge.

Sure enough, he pulls me into a sad-looking corner store. Inside, I buy makeup and some hair extensions, which Sal pays for in cash.

“When did you have time to grab Euros?”

“Why do you need to know all my tricks,” he whispers.

God, I’d love to know all of his tricks.

“Follow me.”

We slip into the back room when the teenage employee turns their back. I quickly take the scarf off and dig through my makeup bag.

“Did you use the pictures that you can change quickly?”

“Yes,” Sal says.

“Good. We’ll take new pictures after I put the disguise on and change. What did you say our names were?” I’m hopeful those can at least be salvaged as part of our new identities.

“Mr. Armando Bianchi and Mrs. Elena Bianchi.”

I look up at him. “So you went for the married couple thing after all.”

Sal’s smile tugs at the corners of his mouth. “I figured it made sense.”

Which part? The part where it was a good idea…

Or the part where it made sense for us to show up looking married?

I shake off the thought “Let’s do this.”

He leans down, and I start to apply makeup. This close, Sal’s face is…

Goddamn it.

He’s so handsome it makes my chest hurt.