The Dancer and the Don | ✔️

Epilogue

I can't believe it's finally here! I am so, so sad to be letting Francesca, Tony, and you guys go! I really hope you guys enjoyed this book from beginning to end. Thank you for being here with me.

You all deserve the world.

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"Please, please, please, please," Gabriella begged.

Tony had grounded her for the day because she had gone into his office for a pencil and ended up playing on his computer. Francesca thought Tony was at fault as well because he had left his computer unlocked. He took her favorite toy away for the day.

What Don kept his computer—with literally everything on it—unlocked? Tony had brought this on himself. Luckily, when Ella had gotten access to the computer, she'd just used it to play games.

Fran watched her eight year old daughter bounce on the couch next to her husband. Tony was trying to drink a beer but ended up getting it sloshed all over his shirt.

"Ella, sit down!" Tony's voice was hard and firm. It was a voice she had made him promise not to use on their daughter. Fran stood up so quickly she almost lost her balance and fell over. Her eight-month-pregnant stomach was always moving her center of balance.

"Do not use that voice on her," Fran hissed. Tony stood as well, helped Francesca sit back on the couch, and left to change his shirt. Ella was curled up into a ball and Fran could hear her sobs across the room.

Tony walked back into the room and Francesca grabbed his crotch with her hand tightly. He winced and leaned down to rest his arms on the couch.

"Fran? It's a—it's a little painful, sweetie," Tony murmured. Oh, so now he was going to keep his voice polite?

"That's the point, sweetie, because you're not supposed to talk to our daughter like that, are you?"

"No ma'am," he winced. She released him and he sat down slowly next to his daughter. He pulled her into his arms and rocked her back and forth. Her cries subsided after a few minutes and she wrapped her arms around her father.

He whispered a quick apology and she was back to normal, begging her father to unground her.

"Ella, the more you ask, the longer your grounding will be," Fran threatened. Her daughter stopped bouncing and ran to her room with a huff.

"We can never win, huh?" Tony smirked.

"Shut up and go make her dinner," she commanded with a smile. He was right. Gabriella was only eight years old but she had the mind and attitude of a teenager going through puberty. While Tony was in the kitchen, Francesca made her way upstairs.

"Ella?"

"Go away!?" Oh yes, she was definitely sounding more and more like a teenager. Her door didn't have a lock so Fran let herself in and saw her daughter laying in bed with a pillow over her head.

"Baby, can we talk?"

"No!"

"Alright then, I guess I will eat all the macaroni and cheese your father is making..." Fran let her voice trail off. A moment later her daughter sat up slowly and removed the pillow from her face.

"Don't eat my mac," Ella humphed. Fran sat next to her on the bed.

"You know you're not supposed to be in daddy's office without daddy, right?" Francesca rubbed her hand softly on Ella's back.