Chapter Thirty-Two

My first memory when I woke was the acute pain in my belly, followed by a burning sensation in my knee. It made me want to recoil, but there was no running from this. Then faces became distinct before my eyes, slowly, one after the other. First Dad who sat on my right, his hand around mine, his dark eyes full of concern. “Pain?”

I nodded and winced. Dad reached up and pressed a button on the infusion that would release more morphine into my veins. At once, the stabbing in my body dulled and I could relax. Movement on my other side made me turn my head and my eyes grew wide when I spotted Amo straightening in his chair. He was holding my other hand. “Amo?”

He nodded, his expression grave in a way that told me something horrible had happened. I tried to sit up. Dad and Amo reached for me at the same time, then halted and their eyes met. I waited for the inevitable but Dad sank back down with a tight expression and allowed Amo to help me into a sitting position. I sent Dad a grateful smile. He gave a small nod. I knew how much this must cost him.

Mom stirred on the sofa and when her eyes landed on me, her tired face lit up with relief and she shoved to her feet and rushed over to me. She kissed my forehead several times before she leaned against Dad. Dark shadows spread under her eyes and both Amo and Dad hadn’t shaved in days. Dark stubble covered their chin and jawline.

Amo peered down at me with drawn brows as he rubbed my hand gently. “How do you feel?”

His voice was careful and gentle, as if a word spoken too loudly might break me.

I wasn’t sure I could speak. My throat felt dry and too tight but after a couple of coughs I pressed out the first tentative words. “I’m alive.” I’d thought I would die. It had felt like dying. But I was here. “Where’s Nevio?”

The last time I’d talked to him, we’d argued. Maybe he was still angry, though I couldn’t imagine that being the case. The memories after my attack were murky. He might have been there afterward but I couldn’t put together the pieces of my memory to make sense.

The other, more likely explanation why he wasn’t here was him being on a rampage trying to kill everyone who might be responsible for what had happened.

“He’s getting coffee,” Mom said. “We all didn’t sleep much these last few days.”

“Days? How long was I unconscious?”

“They kept you under for five days.”

For them to do so I must have suffered severe internal injuries and possibly infection. Face your fears was what Dad always said but I was terrified when I looked down my body. I could feel thick bandages around my abdomen and my leg was in a cast.

“Do you know who did it?” I asked instead of the more burning questions in my head.

Amo’s mouth tightened, a hateful gleam in his eyes. “Cressida.”

I nodded. I had suspected something like that. While my family had many enemies, the timing had been too obvious. Jealousy, or maybe fury over losing her position in the Famiglia, were potent incentives.

“Don’t kill her on my behalf, okay? I don’t want anyone to die.”

Amo looked down, a muscle in his jaw working. I could see how difficult it was for him to fight for composure. Acute fear spread in my body.

I turned to Dad. “Dad.”

The look in his eyes told me it was too late to save Cressida. “What happened?” I glanced toward Amo. “Did you kill her?”

Amo shook his head. “I was on my way here the second your father told me what happened. I wanted to be by your side and I haven’t left since then.”

I closed my eyes briefly, realization settling in. I knew who my avenging angel had been, the one person who wore this mask with ease. “Nevio.”

Amo nodded. “He flew over to New York a day after the attack and returned two days ago.

While I was relieved that it hadn’t been Amo who’d killed his own wife, something he would definitely have done if Nevio hadn’t been quicker, I felt a deep sadness for Nevio. Eventually all this killing and rage would take the last of his light and plunge him into eternal darkness. “This will make things worse. People in the Famiglia are going to demand blood.”

“They can count themselves lucky your brother only killed that woman and not her entire rotten family. That’ll have to wait until later,” Dad growled.

“Don’t kill more people for me. One life is enough.”

“For what you lost, her life isn’t enough retribution,” Amo said in a raw voice.

My brows puckered. “What did I lose?”

Amo looked away, his expression twisted with something very dark. Dad rose to his feet and looked at Mom. “Fina, can you?”

Dad never shied back from a confrontation.

“Will I ever walk again?” Seeing the state of my knee that was the only explanation for their overwhelming sadness. Maybe my knee was shattered so badly, I would never dance again.

Mom’s face softened. “Yes. But the doctors can’t say about ballet yet. It’ll take months for you to regain mobility in your leg.” I could tell there was more they hadn’t told me yet.

Amo still clutched my hand.

“Maybe you can give us a moment,” Mom told Amo and Dad. Amo met my gaze, and the look in his let a heavy weight settle in the pit of my stomach. He kissed the back of my hand then my lips before he rose to his feet. He and Dad walked out of the room.

Mom sank down on the bed beside me. She took both my hands and clutched them tightly. “Your injuries to your abdomen were bad.” Her voice wavered and she stopped. “They couldn’t save…they had to remove your womb.”

I blinked at Mom, trying to understand. “A hysterectomy?”

“Yeah.” Mom’s eyes filled with tears but I still didn’t fully understand. “You won’t be able to…”

I’d read enough of Nino’s medical books and magazines to know every detail of what this meant for me. “Carry a child,” I finished for Mom, and it sank in. Becoming pregnant, having a child, hadn’t been on my mind, and because of Amo and my uncertain future, I’d never given it a thought, but having any chance of it taken away? I suddenly realized that for a future with Amo, I might have wanted children, a big messy family with dirty kids who grew up with many animals.

I let out a shuddering breath, feeling a little lost. Mom stretched out beside me and hugged me. She cried against my hair and I gripped her tightly. Finally, I cried too. I cried for a loss of something I’d never really had, a loss for a piece of me that had seemed irrelevant. The loss of a future that could never be. I wasn’t sure how long Mom and I cried together, how long we mourned the loss of a piece of my future, a life that might have been.

The ache was a new kind of pain. One that I’d carry with me for a long time, maybe forever.

A new thought crossed my mind. “Amo needs an heir.”

Mom pulled back, her eyes swollen. “Oh sweetheart. This should be the last of your worries.”

My brows puckered. “But it’s the truth.”

“I saw how he looks at you. He loves you so much. He won’t care about an heir, trust me.”

Maybe. I was so confused, so lost.

“Can you send him in? I want to talk to him.”

“He knows, okay? He knows what your surgery means.”

I shook my head. Maybe he thought he knew. Mom got up and gave me an encouraging smile. “I’ll get him and he’ll tell you what I told you. That it doesn’t matter to him.”

Mom walked out and less than a minute later Amo came back in. His eyes swam with concern as he walked over to me.

I patted my mattress.

Amo perched on the edge as if he was scared of hurting me but I leaned against him, needing his closeness despite how fragile my body felt. He wrapped me in his arms, surrounding me with his warmth and strength like a cocoon of consolation. It felt wonderful, like something I never wanted to miss again.

I wanted a future with Amo, wanted nothing more but he needed to know that it wasn’t a future he’d always had in mind.

Greta’s body tensed in my embrace. I pulled back slightly and looked down at her pale face. Traces of tears shone on her cheeks. I wiped them away with my thumb.

Greta peered up, those dark eyes forlorn. I couldn’t imagine what the news of her surgery had done to her.

“You can’t ever have kids with me Amo. This time nothing can change that. My body can’t hold a baby anymore. If you want an heir, you must choose someone else.”

What the hell was she talking about? I cupped her cheeks and softly kissed them. Nothing in this world would separate me from Greta again. “I won’t be without you again, Greta. You are mine until I take my last breath. I love you more than everything else in the world.”

“The Famiglia is your destiny, Amo. You are meant to be Capo.”

I nodded because deep down I knew it to be true. “I’m also meant to love you. I don’t need an heir. I need you. Marcella is pregnant with a boy. She’s the oldest. He can become Capo. That’ll carry on the bloodline too.”

I’d always wanted children, but I wanted Greta more, and maybe there were other options to explore eventually. “All that matters now is that you heal quickly so we can marry.”

Greta let out a whispy laugh. I kissed her temple. “I love you so much. It kills me that you had to suffer so much. You have the kindest, biggest heart of anyone I know. You don’t deserve this.”

“Maybe I did.”

I cupped her cheeks. “Fuck no. Don’t ever think like this, okay? I need to know that you’ll be okay.”

“I think I’ll be okay, eventually,” she whispered. “I want to dance again. I want to see my animals again.”

I kissed her forehead. “I know you’ll be. I’ll be with you every step of the way you have to take to heal.”

“Won’t you have to return to New York? You have responsibilities, especially at a time like this.”

“Dad, Valerio and Matteo handle the situation for now. Officially I’m here to negotiate peace.”

“Will there be peace?”

I smiled. “Of course. Our families don’t have a choice. Soon they’ll be one family.”

I had already bought a ring for Greta but had left it in New York. But once I got it back, I’d ask Greta officially for her hand.

For the next ten days, I didn’t leave Greta’s side, but it was time to settle things in the Famiglia. Our soldiers were starting to grow impatient, eager for an explanation for the many arrests. Antonaci and seven of his soldiers were waiting for their punishment in our Famiglia cells. Rumors were making the rounds, especially because of Cressida’s disappearance. The body hadn’t been found. I assumed Nevio had chopped her into tiny pieces.

“Don’t worry about me,” Greta assured me for the hundredth time. At first, I’d refused to leave her in Las Vegas, especially less than a week before Christmas. But my father had insisted I needed to be there during the probably bloodiest meeting in the history of the Famiglia. I knew he was right.

“She’s safe here,” Nino assured me.

“We’ll make sure of it,” Savio said.

Remo had upped the protection surrounding the mansion. I’d slept in the hospital for the last two weeks, only separated from Greta when I went to the toilet or showered. Leaving her now felt wrong.

Adamo touched my shoulder. He’d arrived a few days ago with his wife and son, and he would come to New York with me, Fabiano, Remo and Nevio. The rest would stay in Las Vegas to protect the women and children.

“Go,” Greta whispered. I kissed her gently despite everyone around us. Nevio wasn’t present anyway. He tried to avoid me, which proved difficult. I wasn’t sure how things between him and Greta were at the moment but I had a feeling the tension between them wasn’t helping Greta heal.

“I’ll be back soon.”

I followed Remo, Adamo and Fabiano outside. Nevio was already in the car.

Tumultuous times lay ahead of us. Peace wouldn’t happen easily in the minds of our soldiers. But many would be willing to accept it because it meant more safety for their families and more money in their pockets.

Adamo sat down beside me. “I didn’t think I’d get the chance to return to New York so quickly and I wish it weren’t for such an occasion. I really hope this will lead to peace.”

“There will be peace because Greta and I are going to marry.”

Adamo shook his head with a chuckle. “I can’t believe we might become family. Have you asked Remo yet?”

I glanced at the Falcone Capo. He was looking out of the window but turned to us as if he could feel us talking about him. Our interactions had been civil. We wouldn’t miraculously become family, but we’d manage to get along. “No. I won’t ask for approval. Greta will be my wife.”

“Sure. I get it. I’ve butted heads with Remo in the past. We don’t agree on many things. But Remo will be your father-in-law. Greta loves him, and he loves her. Once the bloody part of this peace deal is over, you’ll have to figure out a way to make peace with him. Asking for her hand might be a start.”

“If he says no and I marry her anyway, that won’t make for a good start, trust me.”

“He won’t say no.”

I gave Adamo a doubtful look. He and I had bonded many years ago during his stay in New York over motocross. He was an avid racer. But once he’d returned to Las Vegas our contact had ceased. He was ten years older so this had been one of the reasons. So far he was the only Falcone man I didn’t mind calling family one day.

“Are we talking about the same man?”

“He won’t say no because Greta made her choice and he won’t risk losing her like Serafina’s parents lost her.”

Maybe Adamo was right. I’d cross that unpleasant bridge later. Now another difficult task lay ahead of me.

Dad waited at the airport for us. The private jet had a separate hangar so bystanders weren’t around, which was a good thing considering Dad had ten soldiers as entourage. That Matteo wasn’t with him wasn’t a good sign. He was still out for blood because of what had happened to Isabella and Gianna.

Remo motioned at the gathered men. “This doesn’t look like the beginning of peace to me.”

“Things are still tense,” I said and with a nod toward Nevio, who had his hand on his gun. “And if you don’t keep yourself in check, they’ll get even tenser.”

I headed for Dad. To my surprise Maximus was there. I gave my friend a brief nod before I stopped in front of Dad. “Why all this?”

“Better safe than sorry. There’s been too much bad blood. I want to talk to Remo before I lower any security measures.”

“Luca,” Adamo said with a tight smile. He extended his hand and Dad took it. After that Fabiano briefly shook hands with him, which surprised me. They’d never been fond of each other. This was a sign. I would thank Fabiano later.

Remo and Nevio didn’t bother with pleasantries, and I hadn’t expected them to.

“We meet again. I hope this time your invitation isn’t an ambush,” Remo said.

“Your son left my territory unscathed after he killed Cressida. If I wanted you dead, he would have died that day.”

Nevio scoffed, giving Dad a challenging smile. “You wouldn’t have caught me. You should be grateful I only killed her and not the rest.”

Dad’s jaw clenched. “The reason why you killed her is because Amo and I gave our permission, don’t forget that.”

Nevio got in Dad’s face, a flicker of madness in those dark eyes. “I would have killed her anyway. And I would kill her again and again if I could. I’d kill every fucker who’s even remotely related to the bitch too if it weren’t for Greta’s feelings for him. Maybe I’ll do it one day. If you want to try killing me for it, good luck. I act out of lunatic rage.”

Dad smiled as if Nevio was a bothersome fly not worth his troubles. “Trust me, I know.”

I wished I had that ability to stay calm in the face of his madness, but Nevio still managed to rile me up.

That guy had the destruction force of an atomic bomb. Remo was a fucking madman. Nevio made his father look like a fucking choir boy.

But for Greta I’d stifle my dislike. For her we would all swallow many difficult pills. Becoming a real family would be a long, bumpy road, and I wasn’t sure if all of us would make it to the end.

After we’d dropped off the Falcones at a guest house, Dad and I drove to my parents’ house to prepare for the upcoming meeting tomorrow.

“I’ve gone through plenty of hard times over the years, but this tops it all.”

I turned my gaze away from the road. Dad seemed to have aged several years in the last few weeks. His hands around the steering wheel were white from the pressure he put on it.

“I know. Things got out of hand. Thank you for accepting my decision to stay at Greta’s side these last couple of weeks.”

“You didn’t really give me a choice.”

“I love her.”

Dad let out a deep sigh and turned into the street where the mansion was. “Officially, Nevio killed your wife. On paper she still was your wife, Amo. We haven’t officially announced it yet. But someone saw him in the city and Cressida disappeared.”

“I should have never married her, then none of this would have happened. I’ll never regret anything more than that.”

Dad nodded, surprising me. “If I’d known the extent of your connection to Greta, I would have never insisted you do.”

“I should have stood my ground and refused, but I was so fixed on becoming Capo that I’d have done anything, only after it was too later, I realized that I couldn’t fucking live without Greta.”

Dad parked the car in front of the house. Two guards sat in a black limousine in front of it. “If we agree on a truce with the Camorra, we’ll have to give our men an explanation as to why.”

“I’m willing to give them the truth because they’ll eventually figure it out anyway once I marry Greta.”

Dad smiled darkly. “I feared you’d marry her.”

“I will. Nothing in this world will stop me. Not you, and not a Falcone either. Greta will be mine.”

Dad leaned back in the seat with a sigh, running his hand through his hair, looking tired. “This could break the Famiglia.”

“You could disown me for being with Greta,” I said even if the words hurt, but nothing could ever hurt as badly as thinking I’d lost Greta, of finding out we’d lost part of our future, and seeing Greta’s face when she realized what had happened.

Dad touched my shoulder. His eyes softening. “I won’t ever disown you, Amo. You are and will always be my son.”

“Some won’t understand.”

Dad nodded. “We’ll try to convince them. And if that fails, we’ll handle it as we’ve always done. Our word is law and they either bow or die.”

It wouldn’t be as easy as that, but that Dad was willing to risk this battle, I was eternally grateful. I hugged him.

“I won’t ever forgive you for making the Falcones family though.”

I let out a raw laugh and pulled back, glad Dad broke this too emotional moment with his dry humor.