by L. K. Shaw
Brenna glances over her shoulder at me in surprise. “What’s going on?”
She heads to the fridge while I park myself in the stool at the island. “Gio’s mom is dead.”
“What?”
I nod. “The police called us sometime around one and we went to the station.”
The stunned expression remains on her face as she closes the fridge and plops in the seat next to me. “Oh my god. That’s a lot to unpack. First, what was Gio doing at your house at one in the morning? Second, his mom is dead?”
Nothing about this situation is funny, but I can’t help but smirk. “What else does one do in the middle of the night with the man they’re in love with?” My expression falls though. “It was one of the best nights of my life, but also ranks right up there with a pretty crappy one.”
Brenna reaches out for a hug. “I’m really happy for you and Gio. That’s terrible about his mom, though. I’m so sorry. Oh, was that Gio who called this morning? Jacob left immediately after.”
“Probably.”
She sags in her seat and rests an elbow on the island, propping her head up. “Is Giovanni all right?”
“Not really, although he won’t admit it. I think he’s more upset than he let on. Beatrice wasn’t the best mom, but she was still his mother. Right before I came over here he left to go home, saying he wanted to be alone. I tried to go with, but he didn’t want me there.”
“Men don’t want their women to see them vulnerable. It’s like they have to be strong all the time. I’m sure he didn’t mean to hurt you by leaving. God, I can’t even imagine how he must feel.” She rises from her seat. “Alright, let me make us some lunch and then you can tell me about you and Gio.”
The two of us sit on the couch, soft music playing so it’s not so quiet in here. I’m curled up in the corner hugging one of the bright multi-colored pillows to my chest, sipping a mimosa.
“So after the raid, he showed up at your house?” Brenna asks.
“Yeah. His emotions were already fragile after that.” I glance over at her and lower my voice. “He killed someone.”
Her eyes bug and she covers her mouth. “Oh god. Poor Gio.”
“One thing led to another and, well, it just happened,” I say with a small shrug. “Afterwards, we were talking about the future and his phone rang with the news.”
“It must be serious, then, between you guys?” Brenna asks.
“I love him. And he loves me. There isn’t anyone else for me, but him.”
She takes a drink. “I’m so happy for you guys. I kept waiting for you to realize he was in love with you. We all saw it but you.”
“I don’t think I was ready to see it. Not then, anyway. But I know that Gio is who I’m meant to be with,” I say with conviction.
Chapter 30
Giovanni
* * *
My feet are heavy as I trudge through Empire to the elevators. It’s like I’m walking in a haze that won’t clear no matter how many times I try to blink it away. The ride up drags, like I’m traveling through syrup. Even the view I normally love doesn’t appeal. Instead, I keep my gaze focused on the floor.
It’s been a shit week. Francesca has been wonderful. She went to the funeral home with me and helped with all the small details. There’s no family for a funeral, no will, and since I have no idea what Beatrice’s last wishes were, I plan on having her cremated. I’ve kept busy so I don’t have to think too long about the fact she’s dead.
I open the door of the conference room, and come to an abrupt halt. There are only three occupants: Jacob, Pierce, and Pierce’s mother, whose expression is one of defiance and, to my shock, utter hatred. It’s not just me it’s leveled at either. It’s all of us. What the hell is going on?
“Close the door, Giovanni,” Jacob says in a low, rough growl, from behind his desk. Rage pours from him.
My gaze dances over all of them trying to figure out what’s happening. I close the door and move across the room until I’m standing within feet of the group. Pierce, as usual, stands against the wall with his arms crossed and eyes trained on his mother. The indifference he usually presents is gone. In its place is fury.
“Gio,” Jacob says, and I jerk my attention to him. Only, he’s glaring at his aunt. “There is one thing that the syndicate requires above all else. Do you know what that one thing is?”
More confusion ebbs through me. What is he asking me that for? He turns his gaze to me and raises his brows, waiting for my answer. My mind races. “Loyalty.” It comes out more of a question than I intend.
He nods succinctly before returning his focus to Francesca’s mother. “That’s correct. Loyalty. When you’re initiated into the family, you swear a blood oath that the organization comes first above all else.”
Wait, is he questioning mine? Even after everything?
“The only people we don’t require blood oaths of are the women,” he continues. “They’re born, or marry, into this family and loyalty is assumed. Except, it would seem, that not every sister or wife knows the fucking meaning of that word.”
“It’s you men who don’t know the meaning of it,” Francesca’s mother spits.
Pierce pushes off the wall with a growl, and looms over her, his fists clenched at his side as though he’s fighting not to punch something. “Shut your goddamn mouth.”
At last, she flinches, and fear flashes across her face. Her son stands there, his chest heaving with the breaths he takes, glaring at her.
“Tell us why, Sofia,” Jacob bites out. “Tell Giovanni why you had his mother killed.”
Shock holds me immobile and the air freezes in my lungs. A buzzing starts in my ears. I couldn’t have heard that right. I stumble backwards and collapse into a chair, unable to take my eyes off the woman seated in front of me. She’s doesn’t even have the nerve to look ashamed of what she’d done. She sits there—cold and callous.
“You were supposed to take the blame for it,” she snaps at Jacob. “You’ve threatened to kill her more than once. Gio was supposed to think it was your fault. The two of you were supposed to go to war with each other until one of you killed the other.”
“Why?”
“Because both of you are Salvatore’s sons. If I can’t hurt him, then I’ll hurt the both of you,” Francesca’s mom snaps with so much bitterness.
“Christ,” Pierce breathes out and steps away from his mother and turns to his cousin whose expression is marked with understanding.
“Can someone please explain to me what she is talking about?”
“My poor mother is a bitter old bitch, because Sal chose Aunt Rosalie over her.”
“He told me he loved me,” she yells. “He was supposed to marry me. Then that sister of mine showed up and it was like I never existed. She was perfect. The perfect wife. The perfect mother. Instead, I was forced to marry some measly soldier. A nobody. I deserved to be Sal’s wife. To be the queen of the syndicate.”
Jacob glares at her. “You are a nobody and didn’t deserve shit. My father clearly saw you for who you really were.”
Francesca’s mother seethes. “Sal was weak. Just like you. Paulie, too. I told him he needed to put more pressure on the Russians, but he wouldn’t listen to me. It’s why I had to go to Popov myself.”
“Excuse me?” Jacob’s voice is guttural. This time it’s him who clenches his fists. If he could kill her, he probably would. It’s because of Popov that Brenna was kidnapped and tortured.
She merely laughs. “All this time, you thought it was Paulie alone working with the Russians. But he was just as useless as the rest of you men. If you want something done right, you have to do it yourself.”
Francesca is going to be devastated.
“What about Francesca? Why the sudden change in how you treat her? Inviting her to lunch. Being nice to her,” I snap.
“Because I knew you weren’t going to leave her alone, and I needed a way to get information. But that turned out to be a worthless effort. S
tupid girl only talked about her photography,” her mother scoffs.
I glance at Pierce. There’s no hiding what his mother did to mine. She’ll have to deal with the consequences of those actions. But I will never tell Francesca that the woman was only using her. I’ll make sure her brother keeps the secret as well. I refuse to destroy the hopeful optimism she maintains. Finding out how her mother really feels will do nothing but hurt her.
“There is a decision that has to be made,” Jacob says. His steely gaze drifts from his aunt and turns to me. “I’m leaving it up to you to choose Sofia’s punishment.”
Me? “What do you mean?”
“Betrayal of the organization is punishable by death. You were the one she betrayed the most,” he notes. “Which means you decide how to handle this. I can exile her. Send her to one of our other outfits. They will be made aware of her crimes, and she will be treated accordingly.”
I sense an or. “What are the other options?”
“Sofia De Luca will meet with an untimely accident, and we’ll all spit on her grave,” Jacob announces with disdain.
“You would kill your own aunt?” she gasps and turns to Pierce. “Your own mother?”
“I’ll be the first one to dump dirt on your coffin. You’re not any kind of mother to me. Or to Francesca,” Pierce sneers.
I stare at this woman, this stranger. She killed my mother. Can I really do the same to her? Can I do that to Francesca? It’s one thing to keep her from learning how much her mother could have hurt her. It’s another to be responsible for her death. I’m sure Jacob and Pierce would do it in a heartbeat. Their hatred fills the room. No matter how they look at me after, I can’t have her death on my hands.
“Exile her. Keep her away from me. But more importantly, keep her away from Francesca. She’s not allowed to contact her in any way. No phone calls. No letters. She’ll remain physically alive, but otherwise, she’ll be dead to her daughter,” I finally say, turning to Jacob, unable to look at her any longer.
He nods, his expression not giving anything away. The room is starting to close in on me. I need to get out of here. “If there’s nothing else?” Please don’t let there be anything else.
“Nothing. I’ll make sure it’s all taken care of,” Jacob says.
Without another word, I quickly leave the room and get in the elevator. Everything is a blur. The walk through the casino floor. The drive back to Francesca’s. It all passes by without my awareness.
“Gio?” It’s her voice. I’m here already?
Something in her tone brings my head up. Even she’s a blur. She grabs my arm and drags me into the house. Why can’t I see anything? I’m sitting down. A choked noise rips from my throat. The scent of coconut fills my nose. Warm hands clasp my head, and a soft body presses against my cheek, holding me tight. My arms wrap around Francesca’s waist as the first sob escapes.
“It’s okay. I’ve got you,” she says over and over again as I cry against her belly, my tears wetting her shirt.
All she does is hold me tighter to her, stroking my hair, and whispering that everything will be all right.
Chapter 31
Francesca
* * *
Time has been crazy. Some days it feels like I’m still lying in bed with Giovanni after the first night we made love. Other days, I have to stop and catch my breath before the tears start to fall. We’re both doing our best to get by. News has spread throughout the syndicate about what my mother did. About her exile.
I’m still trying to process it.
“Good morning.” Gio comes up behind me and presses a kiss to the top of my head. “What are you working on?”
I tilt my head back to stare up at him and he drops another kiss to my lips. I turn in my chair, and he perches on the edge of my desk, leaning and twisting at his waist to look at my computer screen.
“Just going through the shots I took the other day and working on edits.” I finally let Giovanni see all the pictures I’ve taken over the last four months. Even the ones before I started my class with Professor Ortiz. After everything that has happened, hiding them from him seems foolish.
“Do you have a deadline, or can you take a break for a little while?” he asks.
“Nothing’s urgent. Is everything okay?”
Gio smiles, although lately, none of them are as wide as they used to be. They will be again, though. It’ll just take time.
“Let’s go for a ride.”
I send him a questioning glance, but get up from my chair and grab my purse from the entryway table. Gio leads me out to the car, opening my door for me, and then we head down the road.
“Can I ask where we’re going?” It’s not like him to be this cryptic. Then again he’s changed over the last couple weeks. I miss his easy-going demeanor. He’s much more somber these days.
“It’s a surprise,” he says, his voice a lot more animated than it has been. It gives me hope that things will get better.
The closer we get to our destination, the more familiar the area becomes. I glance over at Gio again, but he just sends me another small smile and keeps driving. He pulls into the parking garage, parks, and once I’m out of the vehicle, he threads his fingers through mine. Hand-in-hand we walk down the sloped cement of the garage and out into the bright sunlight shining down on one of my favorite places, Fort Greene Park.
We haven’t been back since the day he told me about his life growing up. I’m not sure if it’s intentional. But we stride down the sidewalk, rambling through the winding paths, dodging bicyclists and runners, until we get to the center monument.
The flowers are in full bloom, and the colors pop with all the greenery and reminds me why I love coming here so much. The bench I’ve come to think of as ours is empty, and Giovanni guides me to it. I sit practically on top of him, and lay my head on his shoulder. It’s so peaceful here, despite the people ambling around. I’m not sure what my surprise is, but I’ll wait until he’s ready to give it to me.
“Growing up, I always wanted to be somebody else. Live someone else’s life other than my own,” he begins, his voice soft and quiet. “Then I managed to get a meeting with Mr. Bianchi. I knew he worked for the organization, and I’d learned about the brotherhood of it. It was a family. Something I desperately wanted. I told myself that one day, I was going to be someone.”
It’s a familiar story, and one I know means so much to Gio. That sense of belonging.
“When Sal hired me to be his driver, I knew my life was going to change. I just never knew how much until the day this gorgeous woman walked into it. Every day since that moment has only gotten better,” he says firmly. “Terrible shit has happened, but when I go to sleep at night, she’s—you’re—still the best thing to ever happen to me.”
Gio shifts, and I lift my head. He slides off the bench and onto one knee on the ground in front of me, his fingers of one hand threaded through mine while he reaches into his pocket with the other. My heart races, and I suck in a sharp breath. I can’t control the trembling in my fingers.
He pulls out a small satin box, and stares up at me. Tears well in my eyes. Giovanni opens it, revealing the emerald cut diamond engagement ring inside.
“Francesca,” he begins. “You’re my best friend. The woman I love waking up to every morning. The woman I know I can share everything with. Including the rest of my life. I can’t imagine another day without you in it. I want to spend all of them with you. I want to have children with you. And I want to grow old with you. Will you marry me?”
“Yes,” I nod frantically. “Yes, I’ll marry you.”
Gio slides the ring onto my finger, and I clutch his face between my hands, kissing him for all I’m worth. Clapping and whistling surround us, and I release my hold on him with a laugh. People all around us are smiling and continue celebrating a second longer before they all go back to their lives, leaving us to our own personal moment. Giovanni returns to the bench next to me, and wraps a comforting arm around my shoulder.
I can’t stop looking at my ring, and how it sparkles in the sunlight. It’s the most beautiful thing in the world. Next to the man seated at my side.
I tip my chin up to face him, and our eyes meet, love shining from his. “I love you.”
“I love you, too.”
We remain sitting there, enjoying each other. I finally found the man of my dreams. The one who looks at me like Jacob looks at Brenna and Pierce looks at Mila. Everything I’ve ever wanted is right here. No one will ever take that away from me.
Epilogue One
Francesca
* * *
I love weddings.
It’s been a couple years since I attended one, though. Never in a million years did I imagine that the next one I’d be attending is my own.
“You look so beautiful,” Brenna whispers in awe, her eyes misting over.
“Don’t you dare start crying,” I warn her, sniffling back my own tears as I glare at her through the mirror.
“Are you kidding? She’s been crying off and on all day,” Mila jokes.
“I can’t help it, my hormones are out of control. If this whole pregnancy is like this, I don’t understand why women would want to go through this so many times,” Brenna whines. “I’m never going to survive five more months of this.”
“Yes, you will. Because when it’s all said and done, you’re going to have a beautiful baby in your arms. Then you’ll forget all about the hormones,” I tell her.
“I know, you’re right. But I’m just so happy.” She sniffs and wipes away the few tears that manage to escape.
I have to look away, otherwise I’m going to join her. This is the happiest day of my life. I can only hope that one day soon I’ll be pregnant, too. Gio and I decided we want at least three kids. A knock comes from the door and Brenna’s mother peeks her head through the opening.