Chapter Twenty-Six

Lore - 1 day

I slept hard and long, waking up disoriented and achy.

But alone.

The sun was streaming through the windows, telling me I’d at least slept through the night.

“Renzo?” I called after changing into a roomy sweatshirt and leggings, then making my way out of the bedroom.

“Sorry to disappoint,” a familiar voice called, making me rush forward toward the balcony.

And there he was.

Nico.

In the apartment.

As were the rest of my brothers.

The joy fizzled out into worry as I ran toward the steps.

“What’s going on? Where’s Renzo? Is he okay?” I asked, nearly falling off the last step in my haste.

“Hey, he’s alright,” Nico said, voice calming. “He asked us to come hang out with you while he was… working.”

“He asked you to babysit me while he handled the coup,” I clarified. “Don’t think I missed this,” I added, reaching out to tap under his arm where the firm outline of a gun was situated.

“Something like that,” Nico said, reaching out to snag my chin, turning my face from side to side. “What’s this from?”

“An airbag,” I told him. “Didn’t Renzo tell you?”

“The Cliffsnotes,” Cesare said, moving closer, holding out his arms.

I didn’t hesitate.

I folded myself into them, realizing again just how much I missed my family.

Having them here was a step in the right direction when it came to mending fences between our families, to having a true alliance, not just one in theory.

“Figure you can tell us the whole story,” Gavino said, accepting his hug.

I went around to them all before circling back to Nico, folding myself in, borrowing a little of his strength before moving away.

“I can do that,” I agreed, making my way toward the kitchen that someone, likely Nico, had already cleaned up. “But I need some coffee and acetaminophen first,” I told them.

The screaming in my head had become a dull, but ever-present, ache.

“Coffee is on the way,” Cesare said, making my brows pinch as I turned away from the coffee pot.

“You ordered?” I asked, looking at Nico, who was the only one of them who likely remembered how I took my coffee, since we went out and got it often.

“No,” he said as there was a knock on the door, making me stiffen.

“You’re okay,” Cesare said, voice soft, sensing my anxiety. “We won’t let anything happen to you.”

I nodded tightly at that, pushing back the memories of the last time I stood in this kitchen, the confusion and fear I’d felt then.

But Nico pulled open the door, then let two people inside.

Cinna, carrying two cardboard trays of coffees.

And right beside her…

“Elian!” I said, heart leaping as I rushed toward him, wanting to throw my arms around him, but pulling back. “I don’t want to hurt you,” I said, arms still raised a bit, but not going for it.

“You won’t,” he said, reaching for me instead, holding on for a second. “Worried we lost you,” he admitted.

“Me?” I scoffed, pulling back. “I was worried about you,” I said, thinking of the pop of the gunshot, the thud that I knew now was him hitting the ground.

“He’s fine,” Cinna said. “Dug around in his chest a bit, pulled out a bullet, stitched him up, and pitched a small fit when he signed himself out first thing this morning.”

“Had to check on you,” Elian admitted, then his gaze slid from me to my brothers behind me. I could practically feel their gazes on us, trying to make sense of our obvious closeness.

“Guys, this is Elian. Who almost died for me yesterday,” I said. “And Cinna. Who is, like, Badass Barbie,” I said, getting a pained smile out of her. “Is Renzo okay?” I asked as Nico relieved her of the coffee trays.

“He’s… working,” she said, choosing the words carefully. “Which is where I need to be,” she added, snagging one of the coffees out of the tray Nico was holding. “Can I leave him with you?” she asked, patting Elian’s shoulder hard enough that it must have jostled his wound because he winced. “Make sure he doesn’t overdo it?”

“Of course,” I said, nodding, already reaching gently for Elian’s arm to lead him inside.

“Be careful, okay?” I asked Cinna. “And make sure Renzo is too. And Dav and Rico.”

“Always,” she agreed, nodding, giving my brothers a chin jerk, then heading out.

I felt Nico’s eyes on me as I led Elian to a chair, helping him sit down, then handing him one of the frozen coffees Cinna had picked up.

“You’ve really settled in here.”

It was a statement, but also a question.

“I have,” I agreed, nodding. “I know it’s hard to believe after all these years of animosity between our families, but I really like this crew. Especially Elian, Cinna, and Dav. Rico seems nice too, I just don’t know him very well.”

“And Renzo?” Cesare asked.

“No,” I said, watching his jaw tighten. “No, I don’t like Renzo. I love Renzo.”

Renzo - 2 days

It wasn’t as bad as it seemed right off after we used Michael’s cold, dead finger to unlock his phone, and give us access to his web of betrayal.

Eight associates, who were disposable on a good day, so it was no skin off our noses to track them down and take them all out.

Three soldiers. More rank. Actual members of the organization, technically, compared to the associates. People we knew better. Had shared drinks with, that kind of shit. But there was no love lost over having to put down a few disloyal fucks.

It was the one capo that had rocked us.

A capo.

A made fucking man.

Someone we’d seen at every gathering.

Someone who’d signed my cast when I’d busted my leg at seventeen.

Someone that had acted like a mentor to Cinna.

Who’d saved Rico’s life twice.

Who Dav considered a close friend.

We’d all stood there in shock when we saw his name in Michael’s phone, as we scrolled the texts full of deception and disloyalty.

“I want him,” Dav said, that darkness overtaking his features again.

It was my place to take him out, technically.

But I wasn’t going to deny him his revenge.

“Okay,” I agreed. “But Cinna goes with you.”

To that, he’d given me a tight nod, and the two of them had walked off to end this once and for all.

“What do you want from me?” Rico asked.

“Go get the kid, I guess.”

“Coal?” he clarified.

He’d been left alone for nearly two days at this rate. The guy was probably severely dehydrated and starving.

“Yeah. Free him. Get him cleaned up. Feed him. Then tell him to show up on my doorstep tomorrow morning.”

“You going home to your wife?” Rico asked, eyes knowing.

Fuck yeah, I was.

Lore - 2 weeks

The apartment was filled with familiar scents.

Turkey, gravy, buttery mashed potatoes, sweet potatoes, green bean casserole, fluffy rolls, the whole shebang.

Renzo had tried to insist that I should take the time off, slow down, recover after my ‘ordeal.’

But I’d never been more motivated to pull the whole Thanksgiving dinner idea together as I’d been following the attack, knowing how so many of these men and women had worked their asses off to protect Renzo and me.

After all the betrayal and loss, I felt like they needed this.

And I was happy to give it to them.

Well, me and Elian, who was by my side in the kitchen, lending the extra set of hands I didn’t realize I’d need so desperately, since I’d never done a whole holiday meal like this before.

The family had been through a lot that made them feel torn apart.

This, I hoped, would help them feel like a family again.

There was nothing better than everyone gathered around a table, enjoying a meal and conversation to help you connect.

“How is it?” I asked after Elian dipped a spoon into the mashed potatoes to taste them for me.

“If you weren’t married, I’d propose right now,” he said, smile warm.

“Well, married and like a little sister to you…”

“That too,” he agreed, looking across the room to where his sister was being casually charmed by the enigmatic Dav.

Elian’s brothers were also in attendance. I’d needed to buy an extension for our table and more chairs for this event.

A lot of the crew had their own families to go back to, but there was a surprising number of them who had no one and nowhere to go. Including the new kid, Coal.

No family.

Until now.

“Ready?” I asked as he grabbed the potatoes and I grabbed the rolls, the rest already on the table.

“Yep.”

“Dinner,” I called, making everyone’s heads turn to me.

But I only sought one face.

Renzo’s.

Finding him giving me that sweet smile as he came across the room to pull out my chair.

“Everything smells fucking amazing, mouse,” he said, kissing my temple, making my heart swell.

“Okay, so my family has a tradition,” I said when everyone started taking their seats. “We go around the table and someone says one thing they’re grateful for this year,” I told them.

“Easy,” Renzo said, staring right at me across the long table. “I’m fucking thankful for you.”

Lore - 3 years

“You’re home early,” I said as Renzo walked in, making a beeline for me.

He was kind of ruining my plans, actually.

I was only halfway done cooking a very important meal.

One that was going to come with an announcement at the end.

The whole ‘and baby makes three’ kind of announcement.

Big deal stuff.

And here he was.

Early for the first time in two weeks.

What were the chances?

“Missed my woman,” he said, coming up behind me, pressing my front against the island as his head ducked, his lips pressing against my neck. “How long we got until that food burns?” he asked, teeth nipping my earlobe, making desire surge through me.

I glanced at the clock as his fingers teased up my bare thigh. I’d dressed up for the reveal too, going out and buying a flirty little sundress I knew Renzo would drool over.

“Forty minutes,” I said as his fingers snagged my panties, teasing them to the side, and running a finger up my cleft, finding me already wet for him, ready for him.

“Fucking starving,” he said as he went down on his knees behind me, pulling my panties down with him, making me realize he had another meal in mind even as I felt his head slip under my skirt and press my thighs apart.

Then his mouth was on me, sucking my clit, then working it with the circles he knew I liked so much, making me slam my hands into the island as my legs started to shake.

My moans filled the apartment, quickly drowning out the sounds of Sinatra crooning from the stereo.

His fingers slid inside of me, curling and stroking against my top wall, driving me to the edge faster than seemed possible, then making the orgasm float through me, a shallow pulsing that moved deeper as it went on, as he kept working me through it.

“Renzo, please,” I whimpered as he kept working me even after, taking me down from one orgasm, and working me toward another.

“Please, what, mouse?” he asked, nipping my inner thigh.

I knew exactly what he wanted from me, how he would usually have to tease it out of me.

But I wasn’t an insecure little virgin anymore.

And years with Renzo’s dirty mouth had been rubbing off on me.

“Please fuck me,” I said, hearing that growling sound move through him that I loved so much.

“Fucking love how it sounds when you say that,” he said, moving to stand behind me, ruching up my skirt with one hand as he freed himself with the other.

“Wait,” I said, turning, watching his raised brows as he stood there with his hard length in his hand. “Maybe I’m hungry too,” I said, watching his eyes blaze even before I lowered myself down in front of him, taking his cock at the base with my hand, then sucking him long and deep, feeling his groan of pleasure like a touch across my clit.

“Fuck, mouse,” he groaned, rocking a little deeper, making me curl my toes tight to ease the gag as it started when the head of his cock hit the back of my throat. “Always so fucking greedy for my cock.”

He wasn’t wrong about that.

I was.

Once he showed me how he liked having me go down on him, I was surprised by how often I found opportunities to do so. How much I wanted to.

Because seeing a man like Renzo Lombardi lose control was a power like I’d never known.

And let’s say that practice had truly made perfect, because I’d even picked up some new tricks all on my own.

I slid up his length, teasing my tongue around the head, then letting his cock slide out of my mouth with a little pop that had his body jerking before holding his cock up straight, and pressing my lips to the very base of him, sucking the underside of his cock from base to tip, making a deep, ragged groan move through him.

“You feel so fucking good taking my cock,” he groaned as I took him in to the base again, this time opening my eyes to look up at him. “Fuck,” he groaned, then grabbed the sides of my head, holding me still as he fucked my mouth for a few long seconds, making me gag, getting me sloppy, before he finally slid out of my mouth, and dragged me to my feet.

Grabbing me, he turned me, bending me over the island, then yanking up my skirt.

“Spread your legs for me,” he demanded as his cock teased between my lips to move up and tap against my clit. “That’s my good girl,” he murmured. Then he slid back and surged inside of me.

Hard. Deep.

Making me have to grab the other end of the counter to stop from being pushed up and onto it.

That rumbling noise moved through him as he settled deep.

“This fucking pussy,” he groaned. “Made for me,” he added as he started to fuck me.

I was already halfway there.

And the uncontrolled way he was fucking me drove me right to the edge, leaving me crying out as he pumped into me over and over, his release hot deep inside of me.

“Come here,” he demanded, reaching for me, and pulling me toward him. “This looks real fucking nice,” he said, teasing the bodice of my dress with his fingertip. “But I think this would look even better,” he said, pulling up the skirt, and lifting the dress up over my head, leaving me completely naked. “Yeah, think I like the idea of you walking around the kitchen just like this.”

The heat rose to my cheeks for a second.

But this wasn’t the first time he’d made that kind of request.

I could feel his gaze on my ass the whole time I walked away to the bathroom, then when I emerged to find him sitting on the chair in the living room.

I made my way right to him, climbing up on his lap, resting my head on his chest. My favorite place in the whole world.

I wanted to wait until dinner.

Really, I did.

But something about this moment, with his heartbeat under my ear, and his fingers drifting casually over every inch of skin, felt even more right.

“I have to tell you something,” I started.

“If you already spent that five grand on books, you know where to find more,” he said, making a smile tug at my lips.

“We’re going to need to increase that book budget soon,” I said, pulling back to look at his face.

“Yeah?” he asked, something in my voice having his brows draw together.

“Yeah,” I said, reaching for his hand, and pressing it onto my belly. “Because I plan for this baby to be a reader too.”

I watched as the curiosity morphed to understanding. And then, better yet, wonder.

“You’re pregnant?”

“Yeah,” I said, smile spreading wide.

“Fuck, Lore,” he said, grabbing the back of my neck, and pulling me in for a long, hard kiss.

“You’re happy?” I asked. “I know we weren’t planning on this yet…”

“Can’t think of anything I want more,” he said, pressing his forehead to mine. “Think maybe I need to get someone in here to start building a library now.”

“That might be for the best,” I agreed, making him let out a little laugh.

“When?” he asked.

“Around Christmas. Before.”

It seemed like a present to us both from the universe.

“You’re gonna be a fucking amazing mom, mouse.”

“You’re going to be a great dad,” I told him, knowing he sometimes doubted that, given his own horrible upbringing.

But he’d shown time and time again his ability to be fatherly.

Especially with guys like Cage and Coal, who he’d taken from unruly kids to mature men.

And if he ever doubted his ability to do sweet and soft, he needn’t look any further than how he treated me.

“Fucking love you, Lore,” he said.

It didn’t matter that he’d been saying it since just a week or two after the whole kidnapping thing years back. Each time, it still made my heart feel too big for my chest.

“I love you more.”

“Not possible.”

Maybe that was true.

I might have loved first.

But Renzo loved hard.

It was everything I had ever dreamed of.

And more.

And now we got to take all that overflowing love of ours and pour it into a baby.

Then another.

And another.

I wanted about half a dozen little Renzo Lombardis.

This was just the beginning…

Renzo - 15 years

“What’s going on?” I asked, walking into the apartment to find Lore standing there, jiggling our youngest, at three, on her hip. As our oldest, eleven, sat on the couch, shoulders hunched, eyes defiant, face busted the fuck up.

That apple, yeah, it didn’t fall far from the tree, I had to admit.

He looked like me. Same face, same hair. But he had his mother’s eyes.

Though, right now, one of those eyes was filled with blood—a subconjunctival hemorrhage. I’d gotten dozens of them over the years. And I knew what they came from.

Taking a fist to the eye.

Along with that, he had a busted lip, and a nasty bruise sneaking up his cheek.

“What’s this?” I asked, walking over to grab his chin, angling his head up to get a better look, checking for any worse damage.

The hardheaded little shit stared up at me, not an ounce of fear or regret.

I didn’t want my kids afraid of me.

But he was still being ballsy as fuck.

“What’d we say about fighting in this family?” I asked.

“That we don’t start ‘em. We finish ‘em.”

Well, I mean, that was what I’d told him, much to his mother’s chagrin.

“Who’d you fight with?”

“Elliott Miller,” he said, biting off the name like he wanted another piece of him still.

“Okay,” I said, nodding. “I’ll bite. What’d Elliott do?”

To that, his head whipped to the side, refusing to give me eye contact.

“Don’t think this counts as snitching,” I reminded him.

He might be only eleven, but the kid had big ambitions already. Namely, running this family one day. And as much as some part of me wanted him to go to college, get a normal, boring-ass job, and have a normal, boring-ass life, I knew that the chances were slim that he wouldn’t follow in my footsteps.

My son’s gaze cut back, cold anger still in them, despite clearly having gone a couple rounds with this Miller kid.

“He was pushing a girl around,” he said, jerking his chin up, daring me to scold him for doing… exactly what I’d raised him to do.

“She okay?” I asked.

“Skinned her knees,” he said, eyes narrowing at the idea.

He had mostly brothers.

But his baby sister, propped there on his mother’s hip, was going to be really fucking protected as she aged up, with a brother like this.

“And Elliott?” I asked.

“More than skinned knees,” he said, shrugging it off.

“More than… like I should be expecting the cops or his father at my door?”

“You could take ‘em,” he said, making a laugh burst out of me, despite myself.

“I’m sure I could,” I agreed, shaking my head.

“His dad’s not around, I don’t think.”

“No?” I asked, sucking in a breath. “Then I think you need to invite Elliott over to dinner tomorrow.”

“What? No.”

“Wasn’t a question,” I said, shaking my head at him. “Seems like Elliott needs someone to teach him how we treat girls around here. Invite him to dinner. But ice that face first,” I said as he got up off the couch, pissed off at me, but he’d get over it.

“That’s very sweet,” Lore said as we watched our boy go into the kitchen, grabbing a bag of peas out of the freezer, and taking it with him as he stomped up the stairs, then into his room, slamming the door for good measure. At least, in some ways, he still acted like a kid.

“Gotta fix the little problems before they turn into big, two-hundred-pound ones,” I said, walking over to press a kiss to her cheek, and taking our little girl off of her hip to place on my own.

I’d been good with the boys.

Sure of my ability to raise them.

When the ultrasound finally told us it was a girl, I gotta admit, I fucking panicked a bit. Until Lore reminded me that through loving her, I learned a lot about being gentler.

She looked just like her mama, too.

Her brothers and I were gonna constantly get scoldings from Lore about being too overprotective with her in a few years, I was sure.

“You’re a good man, Renzo Lombardi,” Lore said, wrapping an arm around me.

“Don’t let that shit get around,” I said, wincing down at our daughter, who was picking up words like a fucking sponge. I was already in trouble for her confident and frequent use of the word ‘fuck.’ And it seemed she got her brains from her mama, because no amount of insisting I said ‘duck, truck, luck, or muck’ deterred her. Though, I had to say it was kinda funny as hell when she used it appropriately. Like when she’d dropped her sippy cup, slapped her hand on the table, and growled, Fuck!

“It can be our little secret,” Lore said as we both turned to the ruckus in the hallway.

Not a minute later, the door flew open, and our other kids flooded inside, followed by exhausted-looking and paint-colored Cinna and Dav.

“They’re monsters,” Cinna declared, waving toward our boys as they rushed to the kitchen, ripping open the fridge, and perusing the offerings. “You bred and raised monsters,” she said, accepting a napkin from Dav, and wiping some neon green paint off of her shoulder. “They got only your evil genes, none of Lore’s.”

“They kicked your asses, didn’t they?” I asked, grinning at the grown-ass adults who’d clearly lost a paintball match against a bunch of kids.

“Look at that,” Cinna said, avoiding answering the question, waving toward the boys who’d busted open a box of tube yogurt. “We just fed them twenty minutes ago.”

“Where’s the big one?” Dav asked, looking around.

“Icing his face,” I said.

“I remember those days,” Dav said, nodding. “Alright. We’re going to go get a grown-up drink,” he said, nodding at Cinna. “Or ten,” he said, laughing at her expression.

“I feel like we should be worried that two of the scariest capos in the city are exhausted and mildly afraid of our young children,” Lore said, looking at the boys as they ran toward the stairs, tracking partially dried paint across the floor after having left the fridge wide open, and the half empty box of yogurt tubes out on the island.

“I think this one is gonna give ‘em all a run for their money one day,” I said, lifting our daughter up high enough to make her squeal, before dropping her quickly enough to make her belly bottom out, getting another squeal as I set her on the ground.

“Can’t we have one calm, gentle, sweet child?” Lore asked as I dropped onto the couch, reaching out to grab her, and pull her down on my lap.

“Oh, mouse, where would the fun in that be?” I asked as our daughter came rushing back, a book held over her head, delight in her eyes as she climbed up to sit on top of both of us.

“No making up the ending,” Lore demanded as I opened the book.

“The princess working with the dragon to screw over that creepy-ass prince is a much better ending, I don’t care what you say,” I informed her, leaning down to press a kiss to her smiling lips.

“I think the dragon makes a better love interest too,” she said, nuzzling into my neck.

That kind of summed us up, didn’t it?

The princess and the dragon.

Best fucking love story I’d ever heard of.

XX