Merciful Vows: A Bittersweet Second Chance Romantic Suspense (The Giannotti World Book 1)

by Vanessa Luisa

  “Sure will be. Can I ask if we can…bring it in?”

  I bite back a soft giggle as Bryce crushes me in a bear hug. This time as I wrap myself in that bergamot, I have no hesitation. There was something in his voice tonight that screamed truth and in his own words; sometimes you just have to trust yourself.

  Unity.

  It’s all I want. For every single one of us to be united and thriving.

  That includes my sweet Addilyn too.

  When I dive under the sheets that night, Helena knocks on my bedroom door in tears. She doesn’t need to say a word—Ben. I hold her tightly and comfort her like she always does for me. I don’t want her to be alone with her own thoughts. Not tonight. To avoid spiraling out of control at this stage is vital.

  I turn to my side and Helena spoons me from behind, slithering her arm around my waist. I squeeze her hands, knowing just how important she is to me. After this exhaustingly thrilling day, I need her with me too.

  We hold onto each other just like when we were little.

  I can feel the gaping hole in her heart. She misses him. Ben was an amazing man to her. A heroic firefighter. A proud father. For the past seven years, Helena has been unbelievably strong. I’m so damn proud of her. She’s my saving grace. Even through hell, we always find a way to pull each other out and that’s all I’ve wanted—to get through it.

  “I’m so glad I have you, Helena.”

  “Likewise,” she sighs and holds on tighter. My sweet Marc Jacobs perfume mixes with her rose scent. “Nothing will ever break us. No crime or man will ever come between us.”

  “I promise. We’ve gone through too much to allow that to happen.”

  “We’ve got to get out of this mess, Lencia.”

  She’s the only one who calls me that besides Giulio.

  “How?” I ask into the darkness.

  “By keep on keeping on and putting ourselves first for once. We need to begin choosing our own lives.”

  When Helena’s breaths soften and her hand falls limp, I know she’s asleep. And I know she’s right. Maybe it’s Bryce’s words about strength, or how I fathom my heart sinking if anything were to happen to Giulio, or the way life can flash before your eyes at the most unexpected moment…but I reach out to my bedside table and pick up my phone.

  They say you never know what you have until it’s gone, and the second Giulio and the fantasy of marriage were stripped from me, I knew. I learned of the suffering rage inside my chest personally customized for me. I know what Giulio means to me. What he’s always meant to me. He means home.

  Valencia: I want to make this right for us. I want it all for us. I appreciate you so much. I can’t wait until Friday night and what it will bring. Goodnight, Giulio. xo

  A silent sob devours me, but it’s mended with a smile the second a reply appears.

  Giulio: Lencia, I am going to regift you the entire world and this time we’ll be stronger than ever. This time we’ll make it right. We’ll fix it all. I appreciate you too, so damn much. Friday seems like a dream. Miss you. Sogni d’oro. xx

  That night I don’t have any trouble falling asleep. I don’t wake up at odd hours. I sleep right through, dreaming of our entire bloodline.

  United.

  Returned.

  Unbreakable.

  Giulio

  All my life before meeting Valencia, I never expected to feel a deep love like this. As she cradles Addilyn in her arms, a warmth spreads across my chest. The same warmth that appeared when I married the love of my life and when Oscar and Slonne were born.

  Addilyn is ours.

  Sinking onto the edge of the hospital bed, my slacks press against the crisp sheets. I kiss our newborn’s forehead and then turn to my darling. I could not be any prouder to call Valencia my everything.

  Kissing her slowly in the midst of tears, I thank God that she’s safe. That they’re both okay after the anxious emergency cesarean. I haven’t stopped smiling since I heard Addilyn Giannotti’s first cries. I cannot describe the love I have for Valencia. She’s my best friend. The woman of my dreams. The one I know I can always trust and confide in.

  Nothing will ever break us.

  Nothing.

  “I’m so proud of you.” The words escape me in a whisper. “You did it, amore.”

  “Well, you made this possible too.”

  “And don’t you ever forget it.”

  She reacts to my wink in cute laugher. I love how she shuts those immaculate hazel eyes mid laugh. How her dark hair, which is tied in two French braids, cascades to her ribcage. How her courage has me honored to be her husband.

  “I never will.”

  “Good. I love you so much.”

  “I love you more.”

  “Impossible,” I murmur softly. “You are my air.”

  Valencia’s soft lips press against mine, increasing the beat of my chest. Here is everything I ever wanted. Everything I ever needed. Family.

  We pull away grinning.

  “Amore, do you want to go to Daddy? I think you want to go to Daddy!” Lencia gently hands Addilyn to me and I cradle her in the solace of my arms. I’m mesmerized by her. After five years, I’d forgotten how little they are. Her hand clenches against my pinky finger and she stares up at me, seemingly mesmerized by this big world around us.

  “Hello, my angel.”

  Her big hazel eyes with specks of blue fill me with adoration. They’re a mixture of both of us. She has her mother’s cute little nose and full lips. Her hair, the cause of Lencia’s heartburn, is dark and soft with the slightest waves. She’s a happy, healthy baby. It’s all we asked for.

  I love Addilyn.

  I love Slonne.

  I love Oscar.

  I love Lencia.

  I love us. Unconditionally.

  “My sister’s going to tell the twins in the morning. They’re going to be over the moon.”

  “I can’t wait for them to meet.”

  “Me too. I can’t believe she’s ours.”

  “I know.” My pointer caresses my daughter’s button nose. I can’t wipe away my smile and I don’t want to. “She’s our forever and nobody will ever be able to change that. Ever.”

  I spring out of my bed, clutching my heart. Fuck. The bruises. I can’t catch a break. My sweaty palms rush through my hair, stabilizing myself from the memory of Addilyn. It’s not even 5 A.M., but I can’t lie here any longer. I opt to hit the home gym to ease my mind.

  She’s ours forever and nobody will ever be able to change that. Ever.

  Oh, how I wish I could take that March night back. I should have never left for London. I should have stayed with my family. I should have been there and confronted that face of evil.

  Regret laces my memories. The same one that has been there ever since Valencia and I took off our rings. That night shut off the light inside me and slaughtered me whole. This morning that light flickers at the thought of Addilyn and my date with Valencia tonight.

  Addilyn.

  That memory of the first time I held her in my arms brings back everything to me. The feeling of her being ours. For six months I have accepted she’s dead, but that memory…

  I miss her so much.

  Have I been wrong? Has my lost faith in Addilyn been based upon a lie? I know why I believe it, but now…is it enough? We need Addilyn in our lives. Could it be true she’s…still with us?

  Valencia.

  I need to make it right with her tonight. Last night her text was so unexpected. My heart is rejuvenated reading those words over again. Knowing she wants tonight to come as fast as I do, that she wants this too, is an incredible feeling. Tonight needs to go perfectly as it may be the only chance I have at winning Valencia back.

  I want all of her.

  The longing in her eyes whenever she looks my way. The stolen glances we share.

  Her gorgeous smile. The way she comforts me.

  The strength.

  The vulnerability.

  The forever and alwa
ys.

  Her.

  I will take the good from the bad, just like I promised on our wedding day. Valencia Giannotti, I vow to try harder and be the man you need. Because fuck, I need you.

  After my workout, I take my thoughts to the shower. It’s there where the memories of Valencia deepen and manifest in forms I cannot comprehend. It’s her. It’s always been her and tonight I’m going to show her the exact reason why.

  Steam fogs my vision and the water slides down my chiseled jaw to my body. It has me slick back my wet hair. I can feel my heart beating wildly for her. My hands tense against the wet tiles to the flashbacks of Lencia and I that cross my mind. They run chronologically through every stage of our life—all seven years.

  Lencia is so fucking vivid and I wouldn’t have it any other way. The way she overpowers my every thought. The way my breaths deepen every time she steps into Notti Designs. The way I always feel happily secure when I’m with her.

  Today, Friday, the twins wake up to the delicious smell of blueberry pancakes. It’s a rarity during the week with school, but today there’s a reason to celebrate.

  Oscar helps me make the last batch as Slonne steals my phone and puts on her playlist of favorite songs. We’re all dancing to the hot mix just after 7 A.M. I lift my son off the counter and we all get so into the Latin beat that the pancakes almost burn. Almost. We continue laughing and dancing, and I send an impromptu video of us to Lencia.

  Giulio: Getting our Friday off to a good start…Wish you were here!

  She replies with a selfie of her in Helena’s kitchen with her sister, Daisy, and Weston in the background. She’s a gorgeous natural beauty with a top bun and grins while pointing to a pan on the stove with batter. She’s making pancake too!

  Valencia: Ooo, do I smell competition? Great minds think alike. Our Shakira tunes are better than yours!

  Giulio: In your dreams! See you at the office—the kids say hi! x

  Valencia: Kiss them for me! See you then! x

  Seconds after the twins walk into school, I bump into Helena saying goodbye to Daisy in the parking lot.

  “Hey, stranger!”

  My sister-in-law whips around and begins laughing at the grin on my face. “Oh my god, it’s you! This is so crazy. It’s never happened before!”

  “It’s definitely one for the books.” I crouch down and Daisy runs into my arms. Spinning her around in circles with me, her giggles provoke a small chuckle of my own. “Morning, Diasy! I heard you made some killer pancakes this morning. Slonne, Oscar, and I made some too.”

  Daisy smiles. “Yes, Aunt Val showed us! But ours were SO much better!”

  My next question is still directed at my goddaughter, but my gaze averts to Helena. “Really, angel? That’s impossible without the SUGAR!”

  Helena dramatically sighs. “Look, I put in a little cinnamon. I’m allowing that at least!”

  “This fad is going to decline in no time. When it does, I’m going to smother you with homemade cannoli and you’re going to love every second of it, you watch.” I wink, loving the amusement on her face whenever I tease her on the subject.

  “Ahhh…don’t talk about cannoli! I’m feeling weak and in need of sugar today!”

  “Well, well, well. Is that so?”

  “Yay! Cannoli!” Daisy’s cheers, her mouth meeting my ear as she asks in a soft whisper. “Can you make me some this weekend and not tell my mom? Pleeeeeease, Zio Giulio!”

  “Sounds like a plan!” I press a kiss on her cheek before setting her down on her feet as she grins in victory. “Have a good day at school, darling!”

  “I will! Bye, Zio Giulio! Bye, Mommy!” And with one final hug from her mother, she skips off into the school.

  I grin over at Helena whose eyes don’t sway from me. “I think I deserve a ‘hell yes’ for converting Daisy to my side of that sugar debate in less than sixty seconds.”

  She laughs, crossing her arms over her chest. Her hair sways in the cool morning breezy wind and I can’t help but notice the brighter than usual nice, healthy glow on her. “Look at you, Giulio. You settled down on a date with my sister and now you’ve become the happiest man alive.”

  “That’s how Lencia makes me feel.”

  My sister-in-law nods. “I can happily report she was the same this morning! I’m so happy for both of you! The moment I saw her this morning, it was like she had a sex glow without the sex.”

  “I’m happy too, Helena…Speaking of sex, am I wrong or do you have that glow too?”

  Helena’s cheeks blush at my words and she concentrates on a spot beside us, that growing beam impossible to ignore. “What? Me? No, I don’t have a glow…”

  My jaw drops when she can’t quite meet my gaze and falls silent. That only means one thing. “Oh my god, you do! Whose ass do I have to bust?”

  “Ugh, why can’t I ever keep a secret from you? I swear you notice everything, dude! Not even Lencia picked it up yet. Why are you acting like we’re on the Real Housewives?”

  “Not Real Housewives; we’ve gone full on terminator because I want to make sure whoever the guy is, has the best of intentions. Now tell Zio Giulio, who do I have to pull aside today and warn that they’ll be answering to me if they hurt you in even the slightest?”

  “Nobody! Goodbyeeee, I have to go to work!” Helena laughs and pulls me in a goodbye hug. “And for the record…it’s nobody, really. So please don’t tell Lencia anything about it. It’s honestly nothing at all. Thanks anyway, Al Capone.”

  “Anytime, Bonnie.”

  On the way to my car, I notice Zoe walking towards the gates with Samuel. She takes one glance my way, frowns, and lowers her eyes to the pavement…. Well, that was strange.

  “Giulio!”

  Every bone in my body freezes to a halt…that voice…I know it. No, it couldn’t be…Glancing over my shoulder, nobody is there but then for a second time I hear that wicked, husky shout.

  “Giulio! Over here!”

  I glance back over the roof of my car, my eyes narrowing down in confusion. Mind games. This can’t be real. I can’t be hearing my father’s voice. He’s dead. I was right there when it happened…it’s all in my head.

  “Giulio, there you are!”

  The hell!

  My heart picks up speed as I turn to my side, witnessing a man walking with a little boy. Oh. As they pass me, the father explains something to the son…whose name is Giulio…my head needs a minute to take that in. God Damn, he sounded so much like my father.

  For a moment I thought it was him, despite all the odds.

  An unwanted memory washes over me in the driver’s seat—that dreaded Thanksgiving night. The frown grows. It needs to be flipped upside down by the time I reach the office, this is supposed to be a happy day, yet I give myself the time to bottle away every last thought I have of my Pietro Giannotti.

  “Pour yourself another glass,” my father hisses, the wine bottle slamming against the oak dining table in a vibrating thud and missing my plate by inches.

  I speak the first words since entering this house two hours ago. “No, I’m okay.”

  “Pour it.”

  “My glass is still full.”

  My father takes one good look at me and chuckles coldly. Cocking his head, his gaze averts to Marcus on the other side of the table. “Can you believe this bastard of your brother? He thinks that I…” he scoffs and turns to me with a screwed up face of vengeance. “You think I put something in the wine? Huh? You think I’m fucking with you, is that it?”

  I stay silent and turn my gaze back to the television. They’re doing a Thanksgiving special on some channel I don’t care about. I shouldn’t have come. I don’t know why I thought for the slightest second it was a good idea to travel back to New Jersey this Thanksgiving with hope that my father has changed. It’s only us three men as Clare is at the hospital working. It’s the first time I’ve seen my father in three years and the bitter man hasn’t changed a bit.

  “HEY! I’m talking to
you!”

  “I never insinuated you put anything in it; I just don’t want another drink.”

  “You don’t want another drink?”

  “No.”

  At the head of the table, Pietro Giannotti scoffs and grips the neck of the bottle. “Sure you don’t want it in your mouth? Cause it’ll be smashed on the side of your head in a minute. POUR IT!”

  Clenching my jaw, I down the wine in my glass, snatch the bottle, and pour myself another one. I down the second one in a flash and turn to Pietro with a pointed expression. “Happy?”

  “You think you’re a big shot now, huh? You think you can move to Seattle and study to be a worthless architect? You won’t ever fucking make it, Giulio. Always dreaming too hard just like that darn mother of yours used to. CEO of my ass. You worthless weak shit.”

  I wish I could say he’s even the slightest bit drunk. Nope. This is how it is.

  Adjacent to me, twelve-year-old Marcus smirks with challenge. “You don’t have what it takes.”

  “Exactly. At least you understand, Marcus.” My father pours himself the last of what’s in the bottle. “The most Giulio is set out to do is walk out of this front door alive.”

  “That’s it, I’ve had enough. I didn’t come all the way here just to hear you go on and on again. I was hoping for some type of apology, but I should have known you haven’t changed.” The wooden chair squeaks as I push back, scratching a stream of white lines onto the chestnut floorboards. I pat down the lapels of my blazer and take my leave for the front door. “A Dio.”

  I don’t make it three steps before I’m slammed against the wall.

  My father’s musky scent traps me between the reality I’m facing and my past. I’m twenty-one, but the days after my mother’s death are vivid reminders of the day Pietro Giannotti stopped being my father.

  “You wanted an apology?” He grips my blazer, his curled fists inches from my face. “Weak boy, I’m not sorry for a damn thing I’ve done to you or your mother. What you gonna do about it, huh?”