by Bethany-Kris
“Like four?”
“Asshole.”
Tommas laughed against her shoulder blade before pressing a soft kiss to her skin. “You needed it, I think.”
“You did, too.”
“Clearly.”
Abriella turned under his urging hands to face her husband. A gentle smile played at the edges of his mouth. “Did you even go back to bed?”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“Better to spend my time watching you than waste it sleeping,” Tommas said, his tone a deep timber that woke Abriella up even more.
It was Monday. That always meant a ton of running around, Tommas being gone from the house until late in the evening as the boss of the Outfit, and every other little thing that somehow managed to always pop up last minute. Their life was hectic and busy. Abriella had breakfast to cook, school drop-off to make, soccer practice for their ten-year-old son, Tommaso, and then supper. In between, she had an almost one-year-old to chase after, a house to manage, and people to entertain because they never stopped showing up.
Last minute.
It might as well have been the story of their lives.
“You’re too smooth for your own good, Tommy,” Abriella told him.
Tommas flashed a sinful smirk. “I’m aware. Do you think we have time for a second round before—”
A quiet knock on the bedroom door interrupted Tommas’ question. Abriella giggled at the sight of her husband’s crestfallen frown. He might as well have had ‘cock-blocked’ stamped on his forehead.
That was life with kids.
God knew Tommas loved his kids. He was a fantastic father. Hands-on, loving, caring, and attentive. His attention was sometimes spread thin between la famiglia and his own family, but he never made Abriella and the kids feel like they were anything less than the most important thing in his life.
Abriella suspected that Tommas’ good-naturedness, his big heart, and his love for his family stemmed from the fact that his family had been so poisonous to him growing up. His father had been a drunk, as had his mother. Abuse and neglect had run rampant through his life. He’d been left to care for his younger twin sisters, and he never had much of a childhood.
He was making damn sure that his kids had a beautiful one. Abriella was more than grateful.
“Mom, Dad?” came a quiet, muffled voice outside the door. “Are you awake?”
“Yes,” Tommas grumbled.
Abriella smacked her husband with the back of her hand. “Just a second, Tommaso.”
She quickly pulled on her husband’s dress shirt that had been slung over the bedpost and tugged on her panties. Tommas was left with his boxers and unbuttoned pants as Abriella pulled the door open to find her ten-year-old son rubbing at his eyes with one hand and holding his baby sister in the other.
“Sara woke up?” Abriella asked, reaching for the baby girl. “I didn’t hear her crying.”
“I didn’t hear her, either,” Tommas said.
Tommaso handed Sara off. “She wasn’t. She was chewing on her bear. I got her out.”
Abriella tousled her boy’s hair and leaned down to kiss his cheek. “Thank you, sweet boy.”
“Ah, Ma,” Tommaso mumbled, waving her off. “Don’t.”
At ten, it seemed like Abriella’s son was already starting to push her away in small actions. The boy probably didn’t even realize it, but it broke Abriella’s heart. Tommaso had always been something akin to a momma’s boy. He had spent every waking moment of the first three years of his life under Abriella’s feet.
Then he turned four.
Tommas began taking his son out with him in the daytime. Abriella never said a word about it, but she watched her son go from a momma’s boy to his father’s understudy faster than she wanted to admit. Tommaso walked like his father, he liked his hair a little longer like his father did, and he even shared the same striking gray-blue eyes.
Twins.
“Go use the bathroom and get ready for breakfast,” Abriella told her son.
Tommaso went off without needing to be told again. With her son gone, Abriella turned her attention to her almost one-year-old daughter. Sara Ella Rossi was a beautiful, spoiled creature. Her mother was partly to blame, but her father had caused just as much by feeding to the child’s every whim. She was a princess through and through.
After Tommaso was born, Abriella had put off having another child. Tommas begged her every day from the time their son turned one, until Abriella finally gave in nine years later for a second baby. Maybe people had thought that they waited too long between their children, and that the siblings wouldn’t be close, but Tommaso was the perfect big brother. Sara adored her TomTom.
“You’re up early,” Abriella said, grinning at her daughter’s wide smile.
“Mamama,” the baby babbled.
“Pretty Sara.” Abriella fixed the baby’s wayward curls. “And no chewing on your bear, baby girl.”
“Dada’s girl,” Tommas said, coming up from behind Abriella.
Sara squealed loud enough to crack the windows. The baby flung her arms out the moment her father was in view. Tommas took his daughter into his arms but not before he placed a fast, searing kiss to Abriella’s lips.
“Ready for another day?” he asked his wife.
Sara placed slobbery kiss after kiss to her father’s scruffy cheek.
Abriella laughed.
Their life was messy.
Crazy.
Sometimes dangerous.
But it never lacked in fun.
Smiling, Abriella said, “So ready.”
“Sit, sit,” Tommas shouted.
The laughing, loud voices quieted as people started to fill into the large dining area. Abriella’s husband had a strange way about him when it came to the people and families of the Outfit. Typically, Tommas was quiet and more observant of those around him. He didn’t often join in discussions, but rather, stood off in the corner of the room and watched them happen.
For a boss, he was an unlikely one at first glance
But he was a damn good one when you took another look.
When he did speak, he commanded. He demanded attention. He forced respect. People liked him, and when his presence was fully invested into a party, dinner, or conversation, he was admired.
“Go, Cory,” Evelina said as she patted her ten-year-old nephew on the back, urging him toward the table. “Go find your mother.”
Cory Rossi gave his aunt a brilliant smile. “Get me an extra piece of cake.”
“For my favorite nephew? Of course.”
Abriella laughed as Evelina saddled up beside her against the wall. Little Sara stood at her mother’s feet, hanging on to the ends of Abriella’s dress for dear life like her mother might leave her sights.
“God, does Lily know how badly you spoil that kid?” Abriella asked.
Evelina shrugged. “Yep.”
“What about Joseph?”
“Even worse. Theo gets the claim to fame for that one, however.”
Abriella shook her head. Both of her nephews from Lily and Damian’s side of the family were good boys—great, even. They were a hell of a lot like their father, quiet and unassuming, but they were also very much like their mother, too, with their outgoing personalities when the time was warranted and their sweet natures.
“And what about you?” Abriella asked.
Evelina cocked a brow. “Huh?”
“You, Eve. Aren’t you and Theo going to … you know what I mean?”
“Not really.”
“You’ve been married for a decade. No kids.”
Evelina’s smile didn’t falter. “We have what matters, Ella. Each other. Good family. Health. Happiness. We spoil the hell out of everyone else’s kids and then send them back home to you when they’re hopped up on chocolate and ready to crash.”
“Thanks.”
“Seriously, though, this is what makes us happy,” Evelina said quietly. “We’re not like everyone els
e. We’re not looking for the white picket fence, the two-point-five kids, and the dog. This is our kind of happily ever after, and it’s perfect for us.”
Abriella was pleased that her old friend had found her happiness in a man like Theo DeLuca. Passing the people a glance as they began to take their seats, Abriella found Theo chatting with Tommas at the head of the table. As Tommas’ front boss, Theo was never too far away. He’d gone from a Capo to one of the highest people in the Outfit without ever breaking a stride. Tommas simply said he trusted the man—Abriella had faith in her husband that he would pick the right men to stand with him and protect him.
“Alessa is ready to pop,” Evelina said, rubbing her hands together.
Abriella found her sister in the crowd. Alessa wrangled her two daughters into seats at the table while holding onto her eight-month swell at the same time.
“Another niece for you to spoil, huh?”
Evelina nodded. “You know it.”
“Hard to believe that Adriano had three girls. Are they done?”
“According to my brother, they absolutely are.”
“He’s a good dad,” Abriella said. “Those girls have him wrapped around their pinkies, and he loves it.”
“He is, and he does. Are you still going to the opera show with us all tomorrow?”
“Wouldn’t miss it. Go grab a plate before the kids eat us out of house and home,” Abriella told her friend.
“Going,” Evelina said with a laugh.
Abriella watched her friend go, and took note of Evelina’s brother coming to his wife’s rescue. Adriano Conti helped Alessa sit their youngest five-year-old daughter into a chair beside her eleven-year-old sister. Then, the man shot his wife a tired grin and stood to speak with the man who had come up behind him: Damian Rossi.
The two men’s conversation was had quietly, and by the looks of it, no one around them took note of it happening. Guessing by the serious expressions the two men wore, the conversation was not a light one, and it probably had something to do with Adriano’s position as a Capo, and Damian’s higher one as the Outfit’s underboss.
Abriella had to say, she liked this better.
Business was not everyone else’s business. It should be had quietly, and without the concern of others’ sticking their noses where it didn’t belong. Less issues were had between the families when everyone worked together to keep things peaceful and respectful, especially Outfit business.
It certainly helped that everyone now seemed to have someone else in another family. At one time, these people were all separated by their bloodlines and their misplaced loyalties, leaving no family deathless. Reckless actions pushed them even further apart. The Chicago War left no one scarless. Each soul burned by the bloodshed came out of the fire a little breathless, but far smarter and more loyal than before.
Honor kept them honest.
Family was everything.
It was hard to kill your blood, after all. Lily, a once DeLuca, married a Rossi. Theo DeLuca married a Conti. Adriano Conti married a Trentini. And Abriella married a Rossi. Their families were so interwoven with their children and friendships that fighting would only mean killing themselves in the end.
“Not that I’m complaining,” Tommas whispered into Abriella’s ear.
She hadn’t even heard her husband come up beside her until he was speaking. A shiver raced down her spine as his lips ghosted over her ear.
“What’s that?”
“Not that I’m complaining, Ella, because you look damn good standing in a room full of people. Beautiful people draw attention, and we both know how much you shine, baby. But you’re supposed to be saying grace for me. We’re starving. You’re keeping us waiting.”
Abriella smiled, and turned her head just enough to press a quick kiss to Tommas’ mouth. She could feel at least twenty pairs of eyes watching their private, close exchange. She didn’t mind showing the closeness she shared with her husband off for others to see. It was a good reminder that as much as some had tried to shame her and Tommas, and for every whore that was whispered behind her back by the older generation of Outfit people, Tommas and Abriella still survived.
They were still them.
“A queen always makes people wait, doesn’t she?”
“Not when the king is hungry, Ella.”
“Spoiled man.”
Tommas grinned. “You made me this way.”
She had.
“Oh, you’ve got to be kidding me,” Damian grumbled.
“Sorry, man,” Tommas said, dangling his wiggling daughter on his hip. “Babysitter flaked. Abriella couldn’t find anyone else at the last minute.”
Damian cringed as something toppled and crashed in the other room. “Dammit.”
Abriella cocked a brow in Lily’s direction. “That was one of your kids.”
“Probably,” Lily said, entirely unashamed. “Tommaso is too proper to cause trouble.”
“He just follows the rules,” Tommas argued.
Damian shrugged. “Better he does.”
“It’s a little strange for a boy of his age, though, isn’t it?” Lily asked. “I mean, he never does anything wrong.”
“Clearly you’ve never seen him on the soccer field,” Abriella replied. “Because he’s brutal out there.”
“That’s my boy.” Tommas chuckled as he dodged a wet slap from his daughter. “No, Sara, that’s gross. You had your whole hand in your mouth and it doesn’t belong inside mine, too.”
“Back to the issue at hand,” Damian said. “Theo and Eve will be here in twenty minutes. I have the goddamn—”
“Damian, language,” Lily snapped.
Damian winced. “Sorry. I’ve got the tickets for the show. They’re non-refundable. You promised a babysitter. Get one, Tommas.”
“Watch it.”
“Sorry, boss.”
Tommas scowled, and passed Sara to Abriella. “Give me a few minutes.”
“Twenty. I’ll give you twenty because that’s when Theo and Eve will get here and want to leave. If you’re not ready to go, without the kids, you’re staying behind to watch them. Abriella can come with us.”
“Sounds like a plan to me,” Abriella chimed in.
Lily giggled.
Tommas didn’t look at all pleased with the turn of events. He stalked off, shouting into the living room for the kids to quiet down and pick up the mess as he passed by.
Shaking her head, Abriella put her hands on her hips and asked, “Anyone want coffee while we wait for Tommas to work his magic?”
“Can’t,” Lily said.
Damian passed his wife a look. “One won’t hurt you.”
“Caffeine is bad, Damian.”
“Bad for what?” Abriella asked.
Lily bit the inside of her cheek, grinning. “Well …”
Abriella didn’t even need her friend to finish. Lily was pregnant with her third child. “Again?”
“Yeah, again.”
Damian barely moved out of the way when Abriella rushed Lily into a bear hug.
“Congrats!”
“Two boys,” Lily said, laughing. “It’s time for a girl for me. God, she better be a girl.”
“Decaf, then?”
Damian chuckled. “Yeah, she’ll tolerate that garbage.”
“Great,” Abriella said, still hugging her friend. “You can make them, Damian.”
No one refused Tommas Rossi’s wife in her home.
Not even Ghost.
Fifteen minutes later, the doorbell to the Trentini mansion rang loudly throughout the wing. Curious, she tossed her husband a questioning look. Tommas gave her no answer in response, simply tipped what was left of his coffee down the drain and pushed away from the sink.
“Are we ready to go?” he asked.
“Theo and Eve aren’t here yet,” Damian said.
“Theo just messaged me. He’s waiting at the end of the driveway. We’re already running late.”
“There’s no babysitter,” Abr
iella said.
Tommas smirked. “I’d be willing to bet that he just arrived.”
Confused as hell, Abriella followed her guests and husband to the front of the house. Joseph, Cory, and Tommaso had set up the entertainment system in the living room and were thoroughly engrossed in some war game. Sara had been put down for bed earlier. Mostly, the house was quiet.
On the front entrance steps, Adriano Conti waited until the door was opened. The Capo’s gaze widened at the sight of Abriella, Tommas, Lily, and Damian dressed up to the nines and walking out of the house.
“Hey,” Adriano said as the four walked down the steps.
“You’re babysitting,” Tommas called without turning back.
“What?”
“Babysitting. I didn’t stutter, Adriano.”
“But—”
“You owe Damian a favor, from what I remember,” Tommas interrupted. “Isn’t that right? Something about him catching you dry fucking Alessa against a wall during his wedding reception all those years ago. You owe him. I’m cashing in on it. I don’t think my cousin minds.”
Abriella caught the sight of Adriano’s furrowed brow as an understanding dawned in the man’s eyes. “You’re fucking kidding me! That was over a decade ago!”
“Pay up, man,” Damian said, laughing. “I can’t help that you forgot about it.”
“I didn’t forget,” Adriano grumbled. “I just thought that it would be for something different.”
Abriella let Tommas kiss her on the cheek when he opened the passenger door to their Mercedes. She slid into the passenger seat, ready for a break from life and the chance to have some fun. Sometimes, fun was never a part of the equation.
“Four kids inside,” Tommas informed. “Sara is sleeping, she’s out for the night. Give us a call if there’s blood or broken bones.”
Adriano scowled. “I’m never answering your call again, boss.”
“Yes, you will,” Tommas said simply.
He wasn’t wrong.
Abriella jerked the moment her husband’s hand came in contact with her bare thigh under her dress. She barely refrained from smacking him away when his fingertips trailed a little higher. Four people sat in ruby-colored leather chairs in front of them, only feet away. They were thoroughly engrossed in the opera playing out below their balcony, but it was too close for comfort.