Alessia
The mansion was quiet, almost eerily so, with the absence of its usual bustle. Sundays in the Young estate felt like a rare reprieve, a brief pause in the chaos of mafia life. The kitchen staff had the day off, the family was scattered in various locations, and it seemed like Jay and I were the only ones left in this vast, empty home.
“I have an idea,” I announced, spinning on my heel to face Jay, who stood by the doorway like my ever-watchful shadow. His arms were crossed over his broad chest, his usual composed expression firmly in place.
He raised a brow in that infuriatingly calm way of his. “Should I be worried?”
“Maybe,” I teased, grinning as I pulled open the fridge. “We’re making cupcakes.”
His brow furrowed. “Cupcakes?”
“Yes, cupcakes.” I waved a carton of eggs at hi
