Page 51 of Powerful Deception

Fuck. That’s not something that should have been a thought.

Shaking my head, I try to stop thinking about my dead wife in that capacity.

I think of her, of course I do, but I will not disrespect her in any way, even if it was just a random thought.

Forgetting about it, I pull on a t-shirt and jeans, before heading out of my bedroom and heading downstairs to find the kids.

It’s Sunday, and I usually work on Sunday mornings. I either head to the club or deal with whatever Rosetti famiglia business that needs taking care of.

Today, it’s one of those rare Sundays that I have nothing pressing, so I decided to stay home this morning. Maybe even take the kids somewhere, what with the weather still being somewhat nice and all.

When I hit the first floor, I stop for a second and just listen.

It’s quiet. A little too quiet for it being a home with two small children.

For a second, I start to panic and feel anger start to boil in me, all with thoughts that my children are gone.

Did Arianna take them?

Is this the moment that I’ve been waiting for, ever since I hired her?

I’m ready to yell for my security team, when I hear a baby laughing.

The anger and the panic quickly dissipate and with a deep breath, I follow the laugh until I find the three of them in the kitchen.

Angel is sitting in his highchair, cereal all over the place and what looks like a banana smashed all over his face.

His sister is sitting on the counter, with Arianna next to her, tossing what looks like blueberries into a bowl to be mixed.

There is flour all over the counter and Arianna is looking down at my daughter with the biggest smile on her face.

“Do you want to mix, Allie?” She asks the little girl, holding out the whisk. “Can you say mix?”

Alessandra ignores her last question and gladly takes it and starts to whisk, what I’m assuming is pancake batter, like it’s the most important job in the world.

I bask in watching the three of them as I think about the nickname that Arianna just used.

Allie.

A nickname that I’ve heard her use more and more since she moved in. The first time I heard her use it, I was floored. It was a name that Angelina always used.

The name Alessandra came about because both me and Angelina liked it, but she thought it was too much of a mouth full for a kid, so she called her Allie.

When she died, I stopped using the nickname because it reminded me of her. Hearing it now, I should be angry, but I’m not.

I like that this woman is calling my daughter Allie and I know I shouldn’t.

“Good morning,” I announce to the room.

I guess that it wasn’t known that I was standing in the kitchen entrance, because at the sound of my voice, Arianna jumps, meeting my gaze with scared eyes. The bowl releasing from her hands in the process and batter going everywhere.

Even on Allie’s face.

“Oh my god.” Arianna mutters, looking away from me and over at the mess, a bit flustered.

I approach the kitchen island, smirking a bit at how Arianna can’t seem to even form a word as she looks around the kitchen for the paper towels to clean up the mess.

Grabbing the roll for where it sits next to Alessandra, I hand it to her, and her eyes go slightly wider.