Regrets & Revenge (Foster Family Book 2)

by Zavi James

  “Let’s get inside,” I told him. We took the steps up to the doors two at a time and nodded to some of guests. Inside the cathedral, the pews were already filled with people ready to see Santiago and Javier become part of the church.

  “Luc!” A tiny body dressed in a dapper suit came running down the aisle at me and I couldn’t help but grin. Santiago was a barrel of energy and I stooped down to pick him up.

  “Iago,” I greeted him as he balanced on my hip. His hair had been swept to the side and his tiny bow tie sat wonky at his neck. “Are you ready for today?” He nodded vigorously as I continued up the aisle. “Nervous?”

  “No.” The confidence on this kid was astounding but it’d serve him well as he grew older.

  “Lucas.” Carmen walked toward us. She dotted a kiss on my cheek and I fought back on the hurt that wrapped itself around my heart. She’d kept the love of my life and my child hidden from me. After everything I’d done for her husband, after the ties that bound us, she felt fit to keep things from me. “Thank you again for agreeing to be their Godfather.”

  “Of course,” I said, passing Iago over to his mother. “Imelda and I will do anything for your boys.”

  “Ah,” Carmen said after she brushed a kiss on her son’s forehead. “There’s been a change of plan. We decided against Imelda in the end. I wanted someone I could trust with my life and Imelda’s always been a little…” She made a vague gesture with her hand. Imelda, Carmen’s cousin, had been exceptionally vocal about the couple initially, skeptical of the eleven-year age gap. I raised an eyebrow at Carmen’s decision, wondering who the hell she’d decided to replace Imelda with at the eleventh hour.

  Carmen didn’t have to say a word. Just over her shoulder I saw the familiar fan of dark hair as Mia turned around, smile stretched across her face. She cradled Javier in her arms for a moment before placing him into Emilio’s. She was dressed in a pale blue sun dress that strained over the bump and I noted the way Franco, one of Gabe’s men, stood a hair’s breadth behind her.

  I’d been so close, the other day, to speaking to her. I’d driven to the hospital prepared to do what Dante had said, prepared to try and repair my family, but I couldn’t bring myself to walk into the building. The maelstrom of emotions, the shattered trust, kept me from approaching her and drove me away from the situation. Unfortunately, Dante had caught a glimpse of the car and I hadn’t heard the end of it since. He was intent on getting us in a room to talk, and I know it was what I needed to do. I’d vowed to reach out after the christening, but apparently we were destined to be pulled together before that. Ambushed by Carmen, who clearly knew what she was doing when she placed us both in these positions.

  “Mia kindly agreed to be their Godmother,” Carmen said, confirming it for me. “I think it’s a better choice and Santi adores her.”

  I gritted my teeth. Of course, he adored her. I’d yet to meet anyone who disliked Mia. Iago would have had six months of getting to know her and spending time with her while Carmen kept her as a fugitive.

  “Carmen,” Emilio called over. Mia looked over to us and I watched the way the smile dropped and the color drained from her face as we locked eyes. “Father Baker is ready to start.”

  “Luc,” Dante said as Carmen left us to gather up the last meandering guests. “Keep it civil and we can all talk after the ceremony.”

  I gave him a tight nod before slipping into the row and taking a seat. Mia sat beside me hesitantly, leaving a definite gap and pulling nervously at the hem of her dress as Father Baker welcomed us all to the church.

  For the entire ceremony my mind ran wild. Having Mia so close to me, now that the initial anger toward her had simmered down, was pure torture. The citrus scent that had haunted me for months wrapped around my senses until I craved pulling her into me, tasting her and reminding myself of how she felt against my body. She shifted in her seat, running a hand over her swollen stomach as she watched on. I wanted to ask her if it hurt, stretching and growing to accommodate our baby. Ask her if she had ever once thought that I deserved to know I would be a father. If I should have the chance to be part of my child’s life, or if it was an easy decision to cut me out.

  We stood at the front of the church before the congregation, so close that I could feel the heat of her skin. Mia would always be the sun in my universe, with all the power to give life and destroy it when she decided to implode. My heart thudded so violently that I feared she would be able to hear it above the questions the Father asked us. She agreed to all the commitments that were asked of her, and I wondered if she planned to hold true to those or leave them in ruin, the way she had those made between us.

  How could one person make you crave them and hate them all in the same breath? How could you want the world from them and nothing at all at the same time? This had to be the definition of insanity because that was the only way my state of mind could be described.

  Mia kept a tentative distance between us as the ceremony ended. Guests began to depart for the reception and the photographer drifted in family for photos. Mia stood nervously, as if I was the one who had lied and run and fired a shot. We were thrust together by the photographer, Godchildren placed with us. Mia once again cradled a sleeping Javier in her arms and my heart thumped painfully. In a few months’ time, Mia would hold our baby in her arms, and where did I fit in that picture? She said she’d made a mistake, but how long had it taken her to realize that? How could I trust that she wouldn’t change her mind and leave again?

  My arm went around her as instructed, and she slotted back into place by my side the way she had been designed to fit. I looked down at her wanting her, daring her, to look up at me so I could see if she had the same thoughts. How had we ended up here?

  After the photographer caught the moments he was paid for, without a word, I left the portrait and stormed down the aisle to exit the church. The paparazzi had cleared out, most likely following the bulk of the guests to the reception in hopes of getting a few column inches. The right side of my body, where Mia’s frame had rested seconds ago, felt like it was on fire. Just as I stepped foot outside, a hand grabbed my arm, and, with my mind still focused on Mia, I expected to see her following me out. I turned around to see it was Carmen who had come after me.

  “Lucas,” she said softly.

  “No!” I wasn’t about to play nice with this woman. “I have nothing to say to you. We are meant to be family, Carmen,” I hissed at her.

  “We are. Just because I chose to look at all sides of the story doesn’t stop us being family.”

  “You hid her! You were going to help her get away when you knew she was pregnant with my child!” I ripped my arm out of her grasp. I could have forgiven her, let it slide, if she’d cut ties, but she’d asked Mia to bind her life to theirs by being the Godmother to her children. “We’re not family! You’re as bad as she is for betraying me, and now you want to try and play happy families? That’s twisted and you—”

  “Enough!” Emilio’s voice boomed, cutting off my sentence. He stepped out and placed a protective arm around his wife, and something inside me twisted uncomfortably at the memory of having someone to protect so fiercely. Once, I would have done the same if I’d caught anyone raising their voice to Mia. “You’ll watch your tone when talking to my wife.”

  The anger that had once burned only for Mia, bubbled over to the people I believed I could trust. “You’re okay with what she did? She went above your head. Disrespected your role. Made you look weak, Diaz. And they said I needed to get my house in order.”

  I hadn’t anticipated the move and was taken aback as Emilio left his wife’s side, hand shooting out to grab me by the throat. The pressure made it hard to breathe and swallow. My hands went to his wrist and all I could do was watch as he spoke. Struggling would not help me out of this situation. “Listen to me carefully, Foster. I have always laid my loyalties beside your family, but Carmen is my wife. If she saw fit to protect Mia, then I stand by her judgement and that mea
ns she’s under my protection as well.” My left eye twitched at those words and from lack of air. “You should worry less about my house and more about your own. The Foster name used to mean something, but you’re doing a good job of destroying it all on your own.”

  “Emilio?” Mia’s voice cut him off from saying anything more. “Emilio, let him go!” She had joined us out on the steps of the church, holding Javier in her arms, and Iago stood beside her, looking curiously at the scene before him. “Emilio, please! Let him go!” At the sound of her desperation, Emilio let go of his grip on my throat and I staggered backward, taking in a deep breath and feeling my throat burn with the effort.

  Mia took a step toward me, but Carmen blocked her path. “You’re more than welcome to attend the reception, Lucas. After all, I still consider you family and Godfather to my boys. However, I will give you a gentle reminder that it is a day to celebrate my children, and if you intend to cause a scene then you are welcome to go home.” She turned and took Javier out of Mia’s arms. “Come on, Mia. Your feet must be killing after being on them all day.” Carmen walked down the steps and Mia hesitated for a moment before taking Santiago’s hand and following behind her. She cast a brief glance over her shoulder before looking away.

  “I won’t warn you again,” Emilio said as a parting shot before he left to join his wife and children.

  I dropped my hand from my throat and felt a mixture of embarrassment, shame, and anger. After trying so hard to prove myself and regain control over my image, it was starting to slip through my fingers again, and I couldn’t afford that to happen. If I kept going down this path, I would need to redraw the lines that had been held for so long by friendship. Maybe change was on the horizon. Maybe that’s what was needed.

  Chapter Twenty Two

  Mia

  “She’s coming with us,” Carmen said as Franco pushed himself away from the car he was leaning on. He opened his mouth ready to argue with her, but Carmen continued, “Unless you think we’re incapable of keeping her safe, Franco. We’ll see you there.” She left no room for disagreement.

  Emilio opened the door and I slid in while Santiago and Javier were secured into the seats beside me. I spent the entire car ride to the reception venue in silence. Seeing Emilio with his hand around Luc’s throat had woken some innate protectiveness over him. Regardless of the way he had behaved, I seemed to be struggling to let go of my feelings. Sitting next to him in church, close enough to touch and yet a million miles apart, caused my heart to constrict painfully, especially when the baby moved. The moment Luc put his arm around me for the photographs, it took all my willpower not to turn into him and spill everything to him then and there in front of God. But I couldn’t. Not in front of everyone, when I couldn’t be sure how he’d react. It was better to me to keep to myself until I could get him away from the crowd of guests.

  As we pulled up to the venue, I played with the bracelet around my wrist. Luc had once said that it was a reminder that he was with me wherever I was. That thought had comforted me during the times I had felt my loneliest but perhaps it was time to remove it. Luc and I appeared to be beyond repair. In his eyes, I’d betrayed him and ruined his reputation. I couldn’t guarantee that he’d listen to reason, but I couldn’t rid myself of the hope that had blossomed after seeing him outside the hospital.

  “Mia?” I startled from my thoughts to see Emilio had opened the door and held a hand out to me. Taking it, I slipped out of the car as gracefully as I could. “I should apologize for earlier,” he said to me.

  “It’s okay.”

  “I said I should, not that I am.”

  Of course, Emilio wasn’t apologizing. I’d learned that Emilio Diaz did very little based on his emotions. He was cold and collected and calculated his plays with precision. The display between him and Luc outside the church was a warning that Luc was in his territory and respect was key. I was grateful it had been done without an audience, allowing Luc to save some face.

  People milled all around, some enjoying the last of the warmth while others dived indoors to dip into food and drink and continue the celebrations. We weaved through guests, Carmen leading the way with her two boys, and stepped inside.

  “I should say thank you,” Emilio said as we walked. I kept silent this time and a smile played on his lips. “Thank you.”

  “For what?”

  “Agreeing to the responsibility of being their Godmother.”

  I doubt I had been Emilio’s first choice. There were probably a dozen or more women who could have replaced me in the church that morning, but I assumed Carmen had twisted his arm until he gave in. She seemed to have the unwavering power of bringing her husband around to her way of thinking. A skill I’m certain she was pleased to possess.

  “It’s an honor and I’ll promise to do my best.” It felt fraudulent of me to have stood in the church and sworn that I’d help guide the children in the path of God when I didn’t even believe in Him. My promises were aligned more toward doing all I could to protect them and treat them as my own, should anything ever happen to Carmen and Emilio. And that was a very realistic prospect, so the decision of Godparents could not have been taken lightly.

  “Mia,” Emilio started, but he was cut off when a man stopped in front of us.

  “Emilio!” He was tall with broad shoulders and white hair swept into a tidy style. His suit was well tailored and his olive skin bore tan marks, as if he’d soaked up the summer sun somewhere substantially warmer than here. When he smiled, I saw the resemblance immediately.

  “Isandro,” Emilio said, shaking the man’s hand with a firm grip.

  “Beautiful ceremony and venue.” The older man looked around the room, still holding Emilio’s hand. “No expense spared, I imagine.”

  Emilio let out a laugh, a wholesome sound that I hadn’t realized that he was capable of. “We’re lucky we own the place, or your daughter would make me bankrupt. You know her as well as I do. The boys will want for nothing as long as we’re alive.”

  They finally released the hold and the older man turned to me. “My apologies. Isandro Nevarez.” He held his hand out to me and I took it. Unlike the rest of the men I’d met, Isandro didn’t raise my hand to his lips, but gripped it firmly and shook it as if we were closing a business deal.

  “Mia, this is my father in law, Carmen’s Papa, Isandro. Isandro, this is Mia Griffin, a good friend to the family and now the Godmother of our children.”

  “Family friend?” Isandro said, letting go of my hand. “Which side of the family would that be? Carmen’s or Emil’s?”

  My brow furrowed in confusion.

  “My side,” Emilio cut in, saving me from answering. “Both are from my side. We felt that was the best decision.”

  Isandro surveyed me with a more guarded look this time before nodding. “I’m sure you’ve done what’s in the boys’ best interest,” he confirmed before looking at me. “You may want to avoid Imelda. She didn’t take too well to being replaced.” Then he changed the topic. “There’ll be some official photographs later this afternoon.”

  “Of course,” Emilio said, through gritted teeth.

  “I’ll make sure Carmen knows the exact time,” Isandro told us. “It was a pleasure meeting you, Mia.”

  I watched as his large form disappeared into the sea of people. “Why did he ask what side of the family I’m from?” I asked once he had joined his daughter. Carmen beamed with the smile she’d inherited from her father as he picked Santiago up into his arms.

  “He’s just curious,” Emilio answered, watching his family fondly. “Isandro is still a little hesitant about his family being part of our business.”

  Carmen had mentioned that she was an outsider like me. Not that you would believe it. The way Carmen could command a room and cut people down with a look and a few words would have you believe that she had been born and raised to be a mob wife.

  “You said I was from your side,” I said quietly, “but I’m not really part of the
family.”

  “No,” he agreed with a ghost of a smile. “You’re a little more complicated, but you’ll always have ties here.”

  My hands moved to my stomach. No matter what happened I would be tied to this family thanks to the little life inside of me. More and more, I grew curious about what his life would become but the vision was never quite clear.

  “Which brings me back to the point I was trying to make before Isandro came over. You mean a lot to my family. Carmen obviously loves you. You’ve offered her a friendship I haven’t seen her form with anyone other than Gio.” Emilio didn’t sound pleased about that fact.

  “Can I just say something?” I interrupted him. “I’m sorry if I caused arguments between you both. I didn’t mean to cause trouble.” That hadn’t been my intention. I was just grateful to have someone on my side when I felt close to losing my mind.

  Emilio waved me off. “If it wasn’t over you it would have been over something else. We always find something to disagree over. Carmen is…” He searched for the word. “Wilful. That being said, we spoke, and although it might cause some tensions to begin with, we wanted to let you know that if things are difficult at home then you’ll always have a place with us.”

  “I’m sorry?” I wasn’t sure I had understood him.

  “You don’t have to stay somewhere you feel unwelcome, Mia. If things with Luc are making it difficult to be at home, then maybe it would be time for a fresh start. I’m certain Carmen could find you a job to keep you busy.”

  A painful lump formed in my throat and Emilio’s figure grew blurry through tears. “Thank you,” I choked out. The Diazes had been nothing but kind from the moment I’d been introduced to them, but I’d always believed that it was down to Luc.

  “Should I tell her you’ll be moving? She’s already making plans for you.”

  “Honestly, you’re an idiot.” The sound of Dante’s voice caught my attention. “Move,” he hissed, shoving Luc out the door.