by Soraya Naomi
Knowing Fallon will be in the bed with them, I grab their blankets from the cribs and tuck them in. Then I place my pillows on Noah’s right side so that it’s impossible for him to roll off.
Fallon returns dressed in her white satin nightgown, and I grit my teeth when I see the damage to her knees.
“Thanks,” she whispers when she sees I’ve arranged the barrier for the babies and sits on the edge of the bed.
I rush into the closet to take off my suit and put on my sweats and a T-shirt before going into the bathroom and getting a tube of Arnica cream, which will help reduce the swelling of Fallon’s knees more quickly.
When I go back into the bedroom, Fallon’s watching me as I approach her and uncap the tube to squeeze some cream onto my forefinger. I stop in front of her, but she doesn’t look up and even jerks away when I try to smear it on her nose.
“Don’t,” I warn in a low tone, and she sits still while meeting my gaze.
Leaning down, I put some on her knees as well, caressing her softly while we’re so close yet so far apart. As soon as I’m done, she climbs under the covers and scoots close to the babies, stroking Milana’s hair while I switch off the lamp.
“I’ll have a new phone for you tomorrow, by the way,” I inform as I exit.
“Okay,” she whispers sleepily.
Outside the door, I lean back against the wall, wanting to be with them so badly that I ache inside. Karma is a bitter pill to swallow, and my guilt intensifies when I think about how I negated her strength so often lately. For ages, I stand there, needing to be close to them, before treading back inside once Fallon’s asleep. I drop down onto the chaise lounge at the window to watch her and the twins, simply because the rise and fall of their chests has a soothing effect on me, which is all I’ve ever needed.
DAWN BREAKS AND I JERK awake, my neck sore since I slept in the chair. Fallon and the kids are still sleeping, so I walk to the bed to press a kiss to each of their foreheads, and I’m pleased to see that Fallon looks serene.
Quietly, I go into the bathroom to shower and put on my suit, but when I return to the bedroom, Fallon’s awake and nursing Noah, talking in a soft voice to him.
She glances up, sending me a sad rendition of a smile, and I notice there’s hardly a mark on her nose.
“How are you feeling?” I have to know, and I lean toward her to peck her lips but stop when she doesn’t look away from Noah.
“I’m fine,” she answers.
As I watch her engrossed with the kids, my throat tightens and I want to stay – I need her to let me in again. But she wants time with the twins, and I have to grant her that.
“I’m going to the club with Adriano to check on the start of the restaurant remodel, and we’re starting the process of hiring a new manager ASAP. Michael is also interviewing a permanent guard for you since he’ll be doing more behind the scenes.”
“Okay,” she says, grinning at Noah as he kicks his feet when she makes funny faces.
For half a minute, I simply observe them, their sweetness and light breaking through my darkness, and then I slip out.
IN A DOWNCAST MOOD, I barge through the new black double doors of Club 7 and see that the old sign has already been removed. The place bustles with workers as the DJ podium is disassembled, and I stride to the bar where Simone and another bartender are locking up the liquor stash before they leave since the black marble bar counter will remain.
Simone smiles salaciously at me. “Hey, can I get you anything?”
“No.” I wait for the other bartender to be out of hearing distance before I tell her, “You’re fired. You can pack up your things.”
“What? Why?”
“Because my wife was right; you’re not a friend.” And I should’ve never gotten drunk with you, and I’ll never drink again.
She opens her mouth, but I turn and start heading in the other direction. “Go quietly and never come back here. Don’t push me and object or we’ll do this the hard way.”
Dust flies around and the drilling pierces my ears as I hike up the staircase and hurriedly enter Adriano’s office where he and Henry are seated around the desk.
“So we keep him out of Syndicate business,” Henry comments as Adriano frowns at me.
“You look like shit,” he blurts out, and I arc a brow – he must know Fallon and I are at odds. “We were just talking about hiring a new manager for the restaurant. We won’t involve the new manager in our organization, just like the restaurant crew. Keep all of them in the dark. I can’t risk another Tez.”
“I agree.” I claim a seat next to Henry as Adriano lights up a cigarette. “And Michael’s interviewing a few men to guard Fallon, by the way.”
“I told her. What are we going to do about Rudd?”
“John Rudd has lunch at his country club every Friday,” Henry replies.
“We’re going to visit him in public.” Adriano grins cruelly, and I understand his intent. “Henry, get me about fifty copies of Rudd’s footage from the sex club.”
“I’ll do it tonight. Anything else you need? Mary’s waiting for me.”
Adriano shakes his head before Henry stands up and exits.
Then Adriano takes a long drag of his smoke as he studies me. “Cosa c'è che non va?” What’s wrong?
“She’s mad.” I lean back and he cocks his head.
“Mad or disappointed?”
“Both, probably.”
“Well, you did fuck up, and if I’d known you were hanging out at the club so much and avoiding home, I would’ve kicked you out of here.”
“I lost control after Noah’s accident.”
“Why? We’ve been through so much shit in this organization.”
“Because ever since we had the twins, I drown in worry about how to protect them.”
He sends me a knowing look. “I get that. But we chose our wives and we need to trust them to protect the kids too or else you’ll make yourself crazy and do stupid things, like you did when you distanced yourself from her. And now she’s punishing you, even if unwillingly.”
“Fear makes us do things we never thought we would.”
“That’s true.”
“I miss her and feel so fucking guilty. How do I get her back?”
A smirk crosses his face. “You grovel, amico mio. Do you think Cam and I don’t argue when I become overly possessive? But I also trust her to always be shrewd enough to protect Amalia. Cam needs my trust to build her confidence. Fallon needs the same. And in turn, I need Cam’s trust as well; she keeps me sane and grounded.”
I understand his words perfectly. The one person who’s saved me is Fallon. She kept my secret while I spiraled down into drinking, even after I failed her. She’s been my savior, my solace, my everything. And I would maim, torture, or kill to repair our bond.
CHAPTER 38
Fallon
AFTER SPENDING EVERY waking moment with my babies for the entire day, I place them in their bouncy seats next to the floor-to-ceiling windows, where they’re both enthralled by the clouds veiling and unveiling the moon.
Wearing comfortable black leggings and a simple T-shirt, I sit at the oak dinner table instead of the couch because the knowledge that the taupe blanket draped over it hides the remains of what happened yesterday has been haunting me all day. I know I need to just get rid of it, but when my stomach grumbles, I decide to order supper to get my mind off of it.
Going to the kitchen island, I open the top drawer to get a menu just as the elevator swooshes open and Luca strolls inside with a brown bag. He sets it on the counter, leaning toward me to initiate a kiss but then stopping. “I brought dinner.”
I shut the drawer and peek inside the bag to see a container of delicious basil ravioli and rustic Italian bread, the scent of salty parmesan wafting up.
Then Noah and Milana coo from their bouncy seats, flexing their arms as if they’re in conversation with each other while they look at the dark blue sky. A chuckle escape me and amusement crosse
s Luca’s angular face, dispelling the sadness surrounding him for a moment.
“It’s like they’re talking to each other,” he remarks.
“They do it a lot and are making new noises every day.”
“They’re learning to recognize the sound of their voices,” he explains, and I merely stare at him in surprise.
“Yeah, I read your baby book,” he admits around a lazy grin as he removes his grey suit jacket and loosens his tie.
Crossing the living room, he bends low to pick up both babies, steadying each of them on an arm. Noah smiles instantly, recognizing his father’s scent. “Hey, little buddy, are you teasing your sister?”
Noah splutters as if he’s answering him as Luca sinks down on a bar stool, and I grab two plates and forks. Getting the food from the bag, I place it on the counter and assess Luca cuddling our twins. I sense a calmness in him that’s been missing for a long time. Nonetheless, we still have a lot to work through.
I split the ravioli between our plates and tear off chunks of bread, popping a steaming piece that’s light as a cloud and tastes divine into my mouth. Rounding the island, I get Milana from Luca and rock her on my arm as I sit across from him.
Picking up my fork, I spear a ravioli, catching Luca watching me as he quietly eats his dinner. I want to ask my questions, yet I don’t dare because his expression is unreadable.
To my utmost surprise, he starts, “We have a plan for Rudd. Adriano and I will seek him out in public at his country club – it’s over.”
Expelling a burdened sigh, I release the tension I’ve kept bottled up inside, but I must know every detail. I refuse to be left in the dark anymore – like I implored him on New Year’s Eve, I need to be more aware, and I pray that he’ll allow that finally or else there might not be a future for us.
“And Tez?”
“Tez didn’t make it through the night. His body has been disposed of at the warehouse up north.”
“Aren’t employees going to ask why he resigned suddenly?”
“No, we’ll just say he had a disagreement with management and chose to leave. And most employees are new anyway since the restaurant opens in two weeks,” Luca replies just when Noah lets out a shriek, his gaze shooting to Noah, who smiles. Clearly, he needed his dad’s attention.
Warmness fills me as we have a normal evening, and I can’t refrain from probing, “What about Simone?”
A scowl darkens his features, although I’m not sure if it’s directed at me or himself. “I already fired her.” Holding my eyes, he admits in a soft tone I haven’t heard in ages, “You were right; she’s not a friend. But she was nothing. And nothing happened between us except that she gave me drinks. I’m sorry if I made you doubt me or our marriage.”
As I’m about to take a bite of ravioli, my hand stops midway to my mouth. The resentment that’s been panging inside me since he pulled away lessens a little with that admission.
“And I promise I won’t drink anymore.”
“Until another issue arises?” I counter, remembering how quickly he lost control.
“I always kept my vows to you, Fallon.”
“I believe that,” I say, yet his actions aren’t easily forgotten. “But do you realize how difficult it was for me to have to remind my husband that I’m the one he should trust and confide in, especially when things aren’t going perfectly – your Syndicate has taught me that.”
A spark of shame spreads across his face, and I lose my appetite all of a sudden. While I’d love to tell him that everything will be okay, I’m not so sure.
I stand up. “And now, the damage has been done.”
He rises just as quickly, positioning Noah on his other arm. “What do you mean? Don’t make the same mistake I made and pull away from me.”
“I’m trying not to,” I reveal in all honesty. “But while I can push the brutality of what we’ve done out of my mind, because this is the world we live in, I can’t simply move on from how you failed me. You didn’t believe me, and you don’t trust that I’m strong enough to protect our children.”
His gaze flickers with a flare of resistance, but he keeps his tone steady. “I do trust your strength. I just didn’t trust my own,” he confesses. “My fear of losing you made me do foolish things.”
Even in his sadness, he’s still strikingly handsome, damn him! “Which has resulted in my fear that you’ll pull away every time something happens, and with you being the underboss, you know the chance of another incident is very likely.”
“I do. But I’m your husband before I’m the underboss. Without you, that title means nothing to me.”
“Then why did you forget that after Noah’s accident?” I ask.
“I didn’t; you’ll see that,” he mutters, toying with Noah’s fingers.
When Milana begins to fuss, I get distracted. “You’re so active tonight. Shall we do tummy time?”
As I pass Luca and walk down the hall, he asks, “Why don’t you play with her in the living room?”
“The couch has blood on it, Luca,” I remind him before slipping into the bedroom.
As I round the bed, I grab the pink and blue quilt that hangs over the crib and sit down at the arched window. Spreading the blanket out, I lay Milana on her stomach and right the edges of it before I kneel beside her. Raising her head, she tries to hold it up and just beams. Then a trail of saliva dribbles down her chin as she attempts to lift up higher but then falls. Leaning to the side, I grab her bib lying on the padded chaise next to us, and when I wipe her mouth, she giggles, seemingly having a ball until she drops forward, hitting her chin, and starts to whine.
After I snap my fingers, she peeks up and is immediately diverted by my voice. “Hey, baby girl. Don’t cry. You’ll get stronger.”
Her body jerks, practically spasming, and I laugh at her cute yet clumsy manner. Smooching her soft little head, I’m filled with elation.
When a shadow falls over me, I sit back as Luca situates Noah next to his sister, also on his belly. Noah immediately almost punches Milana in the face, so Luca’s hand shoots out to snare his tiny wrist.
With a sad tone, he comments, “Buddy, keep it in check.”
Noah grins, melting my heart, before Luca’s smile turns sincere.
Then he hands me a smartphone. “Here’s your new phone. All your data is in it and only the high ranking men and their spouses have your new number.”
“Okay. Thanks.” I place it next to me on the floor.
As Milana wails, Luca takes her in his arms and rests back on the blanket next to Noah, who attempts to shift closer to his dad. Luca lifts up Milana overhead in his arms and she starts giggling again, wiggling her arms in her yellow onesie before he brings her down to his face and then raises her. I’m awed to see a commanding man like Luca, in his expensive dress shirt and tie, playing with his daughter. She laughs in a way I’ve never heard before. It’s unrestrained. I wish it could be like this forever, but the outside world will always interfere. In the end, he has to accept my strength too.
Somehow, we manage to have fun and act like a normal family. It seems to ease the stress on both Luca and me, but we still sleep apart. He doesn’t argue and goes to the couch without asking, which I appreciate as I detect traces of the old, thoughtfully protective Luca returning bit by bit.
BY WEDNESDAY, I WANT every trace of this entire month of January expunged. The bloodied couch in the living room has become the bane of my existence. Still, I postpone searching for a new one.
On the positive side, the twins constantly keep me busy, and I also get to go to the shooting range today, which I enjoy.
As I send a message to Cam, asking her to join me, the intercom buzzes. After I press the button, the receptionist speaks, “Mrs. DeMiliano, the furniture has arrived. Mr. DeMiliano informed me they’d come by today. Can I send them up?”
Frowning, I reply, “Wait a minute.” Then I call Luca, bringing my phone up to my ear.
“Fallon?” he answers instant
ly.
“Hey, did you order furniture? The receptionist said something’s been delivered.”
“Yes, it’s for us. A Syndicate soldier is bringing it up.”
“Oh, okay,” I tell Luca and press the button again to comment, “You can send them up.”
“Yes ma’am.”
While I wait at the elevator, I ask Luca, “What did you buy?”
“You’ll see,” he answers playfully, and I catch myself biting my lip in anticipation just when the door slides open.
The elevator is packed full, and a tall, bulky guy in ripped jeans and a black dress shirt smiles at me. “Your couch has arrived, ma’am.”
“Sure. Come in.” I step aside, still holding up my phone as he drags parts inside, but I don’t see what it is since it’s covered in a lot of plastic.
He surveys the large living room and points to the couch. “I’m supposed to take the old one with me, right?”
“Yes,” Luca answers in my ear, so I say, “Yes.”
He throws the blanket and cushions from the beige, U-shaped couch, not flinching when he notices the blood, and disassembles it so that he can fit it in the elevator. Meanwhile, I rip the plastic off the new couch. Luca’s purchased one that’s covered with expensive ivory-colored fabric.
“Oh, it’s beautiful!” I exclaim as the man begins to assemble the pieces in the center of the living room, facing the TV.
“Do you like the color?” he questions while I slide the large, square cushions across the floor toward the guy.
“The ivory color looks perfect against the wood floor. And this one is L-shaped. I love it.” A warm sensation heats my soul.
“There’s more coming. The receptionist should ring again,” he says just as the buzzer goes off, and I hear him chuckle.
Excited, I press the intercom button again. “Hey.”
“There’s another delivery. Shall I send her up?” the receptionist inquires.
