by Cora Reilly
We held each other’s gaze as we always did, and those dark eyes captivated me as they’d done from the very start. So often cruel and merciless but passionate and reverent when they rested on me, tender and caring when they regarded our twins.
When we’d both found our release, we stayed wrapped up in each other like that, our breathing ragged, bodies slick with sweat. I ran my fingertips over Remo’s back, tracing the spot where the wings of his fallen angel spread out. He trailed his own fingertips upwards, along my spine until he reached my new tattoo. I winced slightly and Remo’s touch turned even softer. My heart was ready to burst out of my ribcage from the look in his eyes.
Remo scanned my expression, his brows drawing together.
I sighed. “Sorry. Since my pregnancy I’m more emotional. I hope it’ll go away soon.” I cleared my throat then rested my palm over his shoulder blade. “What’s the meaning of your tattoo? You know why I got mine, but I wonder why you got yours.”
A hint of wariness flashed in Remo’s eyes, the walls he was used to keeping up wanting to lock back in place. “Nino did it. About seven years ago.”
I nodded to show him I was listening.
“It’s a fallen angel, like you said. It represents the fall Nino and I took on the day our mother tried to kill us.”
My brows snapped together. “Fall? You saved your brothers. How’s that falling?”
Remo’s expression was dark and twisted, his eyes far away, haunted, angry. “Until that day Nino and I were innocent. After that we weren’t. We’d already experienced our fair share of violence from our father, but it never affected us like that day did. The flames of that day they singed our wings and our fall into darkness began. We became who we are today. That’s why the fallen angel is kneeling in pools of blood.”
I’d noticed that the fallen angel knelt in pools of some kind of liquid, that a few of its singed feathered dipped into it, but I hadn’t realized it was blood. For a moment I wasn’t sure what to say, how to console Remo. Could words ever be enough to make the horrors of his past better?
“I’m sorry,” I said quietly.
Remo’s gaze focused on me, tore away from the images of the past. “You aren’t the one who should be sorry. And I won’t forgive her no matter how often she’d apologize. Not that she ever did.”
I froze. “Your mother didn’t die that day?”
“No. Even though I wanted her dead, I’m glad she survived that day or Adamo wouldn’t be here. She was heavily pregnant with him.”
I shook my head, completely at a loss over what Remo’s mother had done. “Where is she?”
“In a mental facility.” Remo’s voice dipped and turned vicious. “We are paying for it so she can live and breathe and exist, when she shouldn’t be doing either.”
“Why haven’t you killed her?” With anyone else I would have never asked something like that, but this was Remo. Killing was in his nature, and his words made it clear that he hated his mother.
Remo pressed his mouth to the crook of my neck. “Because,” he growled. “For some fucking messed up reason Nino and I are too weak to kill her. We haven’t seen her in over five years ...”
“Do Savio and Adamo know what happened?”
“Savio has known for a while. And we talked to Adamo a few months after he got initiated.”
I stroked Remo’s neck. “Have you thought about visiting her again to try and find closure?”
Remo looked up, his expression harsh. “There won’t be any closure until she’s dead. I don’t want to waste another second of my life on her. She’s already fucking dead to me. You and Greta and Nevio are what matters now. My brothers are what matters. That’s it.”
I kissed him to show him I understood. I didn’t think it was as easy as that. Their mother still dominated part of their existence, but I respected that Remo wasn’t ready to seek a solution now. It wasn’t my place to meddle. He and his brothers would have to face their mother one day, and maybe then they could move past their demons.
All I could do was show Remo a better future. A future with a family that loved him. He’d always only had his brothers, but now he had us as well.
CHAPTER 32
REMO
Serafina, Leona, and Kiara were busy in the kitchen, baking birthday cakes for the twins whose first birthday was today. It was already close to noon. I doubted they’d get the cake ready in time for the afternoon, but I didn’t say anything.
“It seems like a waste of effort to create elaborate cakes in the shape of a unicorn and a car when their only purpose is to be eaten,” Nino commented as we left the kitchen to give the women their space. They’d found images of complicated cakes on the Internet, and were determined to recreate them for Greta and Nevio.
“I don’t give a fuck, but Serafina is so damn excited about the cakes, so I guess it’s worth the work. I doubt the kids will care much. They’ll only smash their hands into the cake and stuff their faces,” I said, peering down at Greta whom I cradled in the crook of my arm. She felt completely comfortable in my presence now, and it felt like one of the biggest triumphs in my life to have her big dark eyes look up at me with trust. And by my fucking honor and everything else that mattered, I’d never do anything to betray that trust. When she’d been wary of me in the beginning, it had felt like a knife to the heart. I’d always relished the fear in the eyes of others, with the exception of my brothers, but with my children and Serafina I never wanted to see it again.
“I never considered marriage an option for the two of us,” Nino said thoughtfully as we stopped beside the pool.
“I never thought I’d find a woman I wouldn’t want to kill after a few hours.”
Greta gave me a toothy grin, and I stroked her hair back. It had grown quite long and curled slightly like Adamo’s hair did.
“Hmm, mia cara, ready for your first swim?”
Nevio was nestled in Nino’s arm and as usual making grabby hands at the colorful tattoos. I could already guess what he wanted to get once he was older.
Fabiano was already lounging on the pink flamingo float Savio had used before I’d banned any kind of whoring in the mansion. I rolled my eyes at him. “That’s a disturbing sight.”
Fabiano shrugged. “It’s comfortable.”
Savio and Adamo were playing water ball close to the waterfall in the pool and bickering as usual.
It was the first swim for the babies since we didn’t have a heated pool before and only had it installed now that the babies were part of our household. Nino slowly stepped into the pool with Nevio.
Nevio let out a screech, smiling at me. My fucking heart swelled with pride. That boy didn’t fear anything. Sometimes it almost worried me how similar to me he was. He’d get himself in trouble as soon as he could walk better.
Nino moved over to Fabiano on the float, and Nevio made his grabby hands, wanting to ride on the flamingo with Fabiano. Fabiano raised his eyes to mine, asking for permission. I nodded, twisting my forearm with the tattoo. Between us it meant more than just an oath to the Camorra, more than being a Made Man. The day Fabiano had sworn himself to me, to the Camorra, he’d become family, and I trusted him with my kids. I’d never told him, but I got why he’d acted the way he did when I tried to drive a wedge between Leona and him. He wanted to protect her, wanted to protect someone who could see past the fucking darkness, who loved him despite it all.
Serafina had changed my view on things, and if it was in my nature I might have apologized to Fabiano for how I’d acted.
Fabiano held out his arms, and Nino handed him Nevio, who kicked happily with his legs until he sat in the front of the float, holding on to the neck of the flamingo.
“I hope you gave that thing a good scrub,” I called over to Savio who gave me the finger.
I went down the steps into the pool. The moment Greta’s feet touched the water her face twisted, but I made a low soothing sound and she relaxed. Shifting her so her head was level with mine, I lowered us furth
er into the warm water. Greta held on to me, eying the water critically. After a while she smiled and hit the water with her palm. I went over to the flamingo float, but Greta tightened her hold on me when I tried to put her on it.
Nevio babbled, his tiny legs wiggling as Fabiano held him by the waist. Both Greta and Nevio were big on the babbling, but they both hadn’t said any word except for ‘Mom,’ and while Nevio was already making his first steps, Greta only crawled. She was a cautious kid and reminded me a lot of Nino.
Nevio grinned at me, squeezing the neck of the flamingo before he extended his arms with his grabby hands. “Dad. Daaad.”
For a moment, I froze, my expression stilling. Fabiano grinned and Nino squeezed my shoulder. I wrapped my arm around Nevio and pressed him to my chest. Greta pressed her wet palm against Nevio’s cheek, giggling. I waded through the water with the two, dipping lower, causing them to scream with joy.
Serafina headed toward us in a heart-stoppingly sexy white bikini, Kiara and Leona close behind her.
She lowered herself to the edge of the pool.
“Mom!” Greta called, and I handed our daughter over to Serafina. I stayed close and touched Serafina’s thigh. She raised her eyebrows. “Something the matter? You have a strange expression.”
“Nevio said Dad,” I told her.
She leaned down and kissed me, her expression so full of happiness it filled even my cruel heart with warmth.
“Dad,” Nevio confirmed, hitting the surface with his palm again and sending water everywhere.
Serafina shook her head with a soft smile as she slid into the water with Greta pressed to her chest.
“This is close to perfection,” I said, indicating the people gathered around us. “Everyone who matters is here.”
And I’d fucking protect them all with my life.
A shadow passed over Serafina’s face, and she averted her gaze, blinking. I curled my hand over her neck, bringing our faces closer together. She locked gazes with mine. “I know you miss them, especially your brother.”
She nodded. “I do, and I wish you could meet Sofia and my mom. I wish they could see you as I see you.”
Serafina saw me in a way most people never would because I’d never allow them to do so. “I can’t promise you peace. It’s not only my call to make, and there’s a lot of bad blood between the Camorra and the Outfit. I won’t back down, not when Cavallaro was the first to breach my territory.”
I still wanted to bathe in Cavallaro’s blood and I knew he shared the sentiment. Peace would never happen.
“I know, and I can deal with it. This is my new family now, and I’m happy that the babies and I are here where we belong.” She paused, sighing. “I can’t help missing my family, especially Samuel. We’ve always been so close, and now I haven’t heard from him in so long. It’s hard.”
I was used to handling things, used to things going my way, but this was one thing I couldn’t change for her. I wasn’t going to make a peace offering toward Cavallaro, even when the attack on Roger’s Arena was orchestrated by Scuderi, but the attack on our race in Kansas definitely wasn’t. He’d tortured my brother. That was another thing I couldn’t easily forget. I wanted them to bleed. At least Dante fucking Cavallaro.
Greta giggled again and Nevio fell in. Serafina’s expression brightened, and she smiled at me. Fuck. That smile got me every time.
SERAFINA
Nevio was a small whirlwind, and it had only gotten worse since he started to walk. It was the day before our wedding and only four days since the twin’s birthday, and Kiara was busy with last minutes preparation, even though it was going to be a small affair. Adamo had babysitter duty for Nevio, which mainly consisted in running after him and making sure he didn’t break his neck or got his hands on anything breakable.
Every time Adamo lifted Nevio into his arms, he began wailing in protest. I gave Adamo an understanding smile when he let out a sigh. “I can take over if you want?”
Adamo smiled sheepishly. “I need a break.”
Chuckling, I took Nevio from him and hoisted him up on my hip despite his loud protest. “Mom, no. No. No. No!”
“I was so looking forward to them speaking,” Remo said from his spot on a blanket where he played with Greta while trying to get work done on his iPad simultaneously. “But Nevio enjoys the word ‘no’ a bit too much for my taste.”
“No,” “Mom,” and “Dad” were the only words that Nevio had mastered so far.
“No!” Nevio bellowed.
I laughed.
Remo shook his head. “Nevio, that’s enough.”
Nevio frowned, his lips turning into a pout. “No?”
Remo’s mouth twitched.
“If you’re being quiet, I’ll set you back down,” I said. Nevio regarded me, then Remo, obviously unsure if our offer was worth it.
Greta crawled closer to Remo, and he looked back down to her. She pressed her hands to his legs and slowly pushed up, her butt raised, then she stumbled to her feet. Remo reached out, and she curled her tiny hand around his index finger and Remo’s other fingers covered hers, steadying her, and my eyes began to water.
“Good,” Remo encouraged.
She looked at him, surprised, and still a bit unsure.
She took a hesitant step, and he smiled. “Very good, mia cara.” Her smile widened and she took a few uncoordinated, shaky steps and stumbled into him. He became still as she clung to his shirt and finger, peering up at him with absolute trust.
I set Nevio down because I could tell he wanted to join them. The second his tiny feet hit the ground, he wobbled toward Greta and his dad. Remo wrapped an arm around him as well.
Greta released Remo’s shirt and made the grabby motion when she wanted to be picked up. She still preferred to be carried. Remo put one hand under her backside while the other steadied her back and pressed her to his chest. He held out his hand to Nevio. “Arm?”
Nevio nodded for once, and Remo bent down to lift him up as well. He straightened with a kid on each hip and pressed a kiss to the top of their heads. His eyes found mine, and I didn’t care that he saw my tears. Today I gladly gave them to him.
Remo was beyond redemption in the eyes of so many.
He was the cruelest man I knew.
But with every atom in my body, I knew that he would never hurt our children. He would protect them. They were Falcones. They were his. Ours.
We would both die for them, for each other.
Tomorrow I’d officially become a Falcone, and so would my kids. I knew we’d all carry the name with pride.
CHAPTER 33
SERAFINA
The wedding was scheduled for late afternoon. I chose a Boho-style dress without pearls or a bodice. The top was knitted with a V-neckline, and the skirt flowed freely around my body, touching the ground in soft waves. My hair was down and fell in untamed curls around my shoulders.
I allowed myself another moment to regard my reflection. This day felt so very different to my last wedding day. Back then I’d been scared of the unknown but determined to do what was expected of me, content to marry a man I hardly knew and definitely wasn’t in love with. Today I was absolutely certain of my love for my future husband. Remo held my heart in an iron grip, and I wouldn’t have wanted it any other way.
Love can bloom in the darkest place, and ours did wildly, freely, untamable.
I hadn’t thought it possible to feel that way for someone; occasionally I’d dreamed of it or foolishly hoped for it, but I knew it to be a rare gift in our circles.
I left our bedroom and walked through the silent hallways of the mansion, a place that had become my home and a safe haven for Greta and Nevio. Falcone. A name we all would carry with pride. A name that our kids would always be able to speak with their heads held high.
Adamo waited for me in the game room and smiled when he spotted me. The French windows were open and a gentle breeze carried in, warm and soothing. Adamo was dressed in slacks and a white shirt and ha
d gotten a haircut to tame his wild curls for the occasion. Tears sprang into my eyes, and my chest constricted painfully. This was supposed to be Samuel. I wanted him at my side in one of the most important moments of my life. He was meant to walk me down the aisle. It had always been meant to be him, but he wasn’t here.
Adamo extended his hand and I put mine in it. He squeezed. “One day your family will understand. One day there will be peace.”
I peered up at him, at his kind smile and warm eyes, then lowered my gaze to the burn mark on his forearm, on the healed cuts. Occasionally, I still saw the haunted look in his eyes and I wondered if he hid the worst of his struggle from us. He was barely home anymore. So much pain and suffering in the name of revenge and honor. “You want peace after what my family did to you?”
“You’re going to marry the man who kidnapped you.”
I laughed. He had me there. If someone had told me on the day of my almost wedding to Danilo that I’d ever consider becoming a Falcone, I would have laughed in their face. So much had changed since then. I hardly knew the girl from back then anymore. She had been replaced by someone stronger.
Adamo lightly tugged at my hand and indicated toward the gardens. “Come. They’re all waiting, and you know how Remo is. Patience isn’t his strength.”
No, it wasn’t, but he’d waited for me more than once.
Adamo led me out of the mansion and past the pool toward the small congregation down the lawn.
My bare feet touched the warm grass, and then I spotted Remo at the end of the aisle below a white wood arc, and a sense of rightness filled me. Blood-red roses trailed around the arc, contrasting beautifully with the white. Kiara had arranged everything with Leona’s help.