Page 37 of The Godfather’s Christmas Twins
With a sigh, I follow him down the hallway. "But I still maintain there's nothing to talk about that hasn’t already been said."
Max's shoulders tense at my words as he leads the way. The moonlight streaming through the floor-to-ceiling windows casts long shadows across the living room.
I sink into the plush leather couch, pulling my knees up to my chest. Max paces in front of the windows, his profile sharp against the glow of the moonlight.
"Your safety comes first." He stops pacing to face me. "Whatever you or the kids need, I'll provide it. Books, toys, games?—"
"They're five, Max. They need more than just stuff."
"Gia." He crouches in front of me, his eyes intense. "I promised to protect you. All of you. Let me do that."
"Who’s stopping you? I took proper precautions. It’s not like I snuck out alone.”
"There's someone out there watching you, threatening you. Until we know who and why, you stay here where I can keep you safe."
“There’s no indication anyone has followed me out here. But more importantly, the kids need room to run. The park was perfectly secure. Your men?—"
"My men shouldn't have taken that risk." His jaw clenches. "I've already dealt with that breach in protocol."
"So you fired them? For showing basic human compassion?"
“Not fired, but they’ll think twice before risking your safety again.” He straightens up, towering over me. "I don't care if you hate me for this, but I won't compromise on your safety. Whatever you need, you’ll have it, starting with a playground. I've arranged for someone to come and assess the yard and plan for a play area. Swings, slides, whatever they need. You won't have to leave the compound."
I stare at Max, momentarily speechless. A playground? The gesture is sweet, warming my heart despite my determination to stay detached.
"You're… building them a playground?"
"Yes." He shifts his weight, hands in his pockets.
The mental image forms, my children's delighted faces as they discover their own private park, their squeals of joy as they race down slides and pump their legs on swings. For a moment, I let myself imagine Max pushing them, teaching them to swing higher, catching them at the bottom of the slide.
But then Whitley's perfectly toned body flashes through my mind, the way she stood in this very room practically naked, so confident in her place here. The warmth in my chest turns cold.
"That's… thoughtful." I wrap my arms around myself. "Though I'm sure you'd rather spend your money on other things. Other people."
His brow furrows. "What's that supposed to mean?"
"Nothing." I stand up, needing space between us. "I just don't want you feeling obligated to spend money on elaborate playgrounds when this is temporary. I'm sure you have other priorities."
Like entertaining gorgeous women who clearly know their way around his house. Women closer to his age who aren't complicated by children and family ties and years of messy history.
"The playground isn't an obligation," Max says, his voice tight. "I want the kids to be happy here."
"Right." I force a smile that feels brittle on my face. "Well, thank you. I'm sure they'll love it." I start toward my room.
“Dammit, Gia, where are you going? Why do you always run off when I’m trying to talk to you?”
I let out a humorless laugh. “Me? I guess I learned it from you last year.”
He closes his eyes for a moment like he’s asking God for strength. He opens them, his dark eyes piercing mind. “About Whitley?—”
I raise a hand to stop him. “I don’t need to know anything about Whitley.”
He studies me. “She’s not in my life.”
“Too bad. She looks like a woman who could show you a good time.”
He shakes his head. “You act like you don’t care that she showed up here ready to fuck me.”