Seventeen

W aking up with Trent’s arms around me is something I don’t think I’ll ever get enough of, and sadly, something I know will have to be put on pause very soon. Junior returns next week, and my cage will be locked once again, along with my freedom.

“Mmm, go back to sleep.” His gruff morning voice sounds over my shoulder, followed by a gentle kiss on my neck.

“I have brunch plans with my mom today, remember?”

“You’re hungry? I thought you’d still be full from last night,” he teases while pressing his morning wood into my ass.

“You’re insatiable.”

“Forever would never be enough,” he whispers softly, and I roll over to face him, instantly getting lost in his green eyes. This man has once again taken me over, mind, body, and soul.

“I love you so damn much,” I say as tears flood my eyes.

“Hey, don’t cry, baby.” He leans over and kisses away the tears trailing down my cheeks.

“I’m afraid,” I admit.

Trent pulls me even closer. “It’ll all be okay. I promise you that.”

“Will it, though…honestly? Like, what are we going to do when he gets back? How are we going to get rid of him? What happens if he finds out?” My mind dumps all the what-ifs that have been playing on repeat, no matter how hard I try to stop them.

“It will all be taken care of,” he says, kissing my forehead and I nod, pushing away my fears.

Trent’s phone chimes with a notification. “It’s Micah. He’ll be here in a half hour.”

“Ugh, guess that means I have to get in the shower.”

“I would give anything to be there with you,” he says, cupping my face.

“Someday soon, hopefully.”

“Not soon enough,” he adds.

I stand, knowing I'll never get up if I stay in this bed any longer. My head rushes with an unsettling, dizzy feeling, causing me to sit back down immediately. Trent is by my side to steady me in an instant.

“Woah, are you okay?” His voice is more serious than normal, concern etched on his face.

“Yeah…that was strange. Must’ve stood up too quickly.”

“You sure? Maybe you should lay back down.”

“No, no. I'm okay,” I assure him, attempting to stand once again. Feeling better this time, I head to the bathroom and turn on the shower .

Stepping inside, I exhale deeply, letting the warm cascading water wash away all my fears and sense of unease.

Before I know it, I'm crying once again. What in the actual fuck is wrong with me? If I didn’t know any better, I'd say I'm as emotional as a pregnant woman.

Could you imagine…

Wait.

When was my last period?

I do some quick mental calculations, and the more I think about it, the hotter the prickly sensation of fear creeps up my neck. I stumble back at the realization, knocking over the bottles of body wash and conditioner.

Holy. Fucking. Shit. I could be pregnant. The real question is, by who?

I hear Trent's voice sound through the bathroom door. “You okay in there?”

“Ye—yeah, I'm good. Be out in a minute,” I stammer as my stomach twists with nausea.

While quickly finishing up, I devise a plan to get a test on the way to my mom’s. No need to panic and no need to tell anyone until I know for certain the results.

“You’re awfully quiet,” Micah says from the seat beside me.

“Sorry, I didn’t get a lot of sleep last night.” It is not necessarily a lie, but my attention is primarily on the pregnancy test I picked up a few minutes ago, which is screaming at me from inside my purse .

I asked Micah to stop at CVS on our way to brunch, feigning a lady emergency and needing supplies. Which, of course, he wanted no part of and allowed me to run inside quickly while he stayed in the waiting car at the curb.

Resting my head on the window, I watch the buildings pass us by. With each block creeping closer to my childhood home, I try my best to calm my nerves.

I notice Micah eyeing me, concern etched on his face.

“Out with it,” I say, turning to face him.

“Just making sure you’re all good.”

“Yeah, I am. Nervous, but I’m good,” I answer honestly. He doesn’t have to know exactly what I'm nervous about. Everything in my life is uncertain. I’m literally a ball of nerves.

“What about you? Are you good?” I turn in my seat to gauge his reaction.

Micah stares out the windshield for a few moments before he responds. “You know, I used to dream about following in dad’s footsteps; being a Capo was all I’ve ever wanted. But…”

“But you’re worried what your involvement with The Saints might mean?” I finish for him. It's something I’ve even wondered myself once I discovered he was working with Nico.

He releases a long sigh while his eyes remain focused on the road ahead of him. “To be honest, after Dad’s death, I knew I couldn’t stand back and watch Junior destroy everything the families have worked so hard for. It’s almost like Dad was the last barrier holding Junior back from unleashing the reckless son-of-a-bitch he truly was. I wanted to be prepared in any way possible to ensure our futures.”

I reach for his arm that’s resting on the center consol. “Our family has been involved for five generations; Dad fought his way from a low man on the totem pole Soldati to one of the Santini’s main Capos. I know how much continuing his legacy means to you. When I heard you were working with Nico, I was beyond surprise, but also thankful for my big brother pulling strings behind the scenes. How did you even manage to sync up with them?”

“Trevor,” he says, like the name alone holds the answers.

Raising my eyebrow in question, he chuckles and then elaborates. “I met Trevor through a mutual friend, and one night, all three of us got too drunk for our own good, and secrets were spilled. There was no going back after that. Trevor and I formed an unlikely bond. A few months later, we realized our siblings were in love with each other, and you were miserable with the fact you were arranged to marry the soon-to-be boss of NYC, a life I knew you didn’t want any part of. Trevor and I thought Trent’s best chance of breaking you from those chains was having the backing and power that came along with being a Saint. Over time, my own vendetta with Junior formed, and that’s when Nico and I sat down for the first time. Ashley, if I had known what you’ve been going through, I would have gone to him a long time ago.” Trent’s slip-up about the history between Cass, Micah, and Trevor makes me wonder if this is about her. I shut that thought down real quick, not wanting to think of my brother’s sexual proclivities.

“I can’t imagine how on edge you must feel.” I squeeze his arm in comfort.

“Ha! I’ve always had to watch my back. At least now I know I have some good ones watching it for me too.”

“Thank you, Micah.”

He makes a face at me .

“I mean it. It means the world to me knowing I have someone like you in my corner.”

“You have plenty of people looking out for you. I'm just glad I'm part of the team, not only for your safety, but to rid the world of that piece of shit.”

“Love you, big brother,” I say as we pull up to our childhood home.

“Love you too, principessa,” he replies, and I swat at his arm. “Ouch… The fuck?”

“I fucking hate being called that!” My arms cross over my chest in defiance as he jokingly rubs the reddened print on his arm.

“But Dad always called you that.”

“Yes, and he was the only one I would ever allow to do so.” Just another thing Junior has ruined for me.

He raises his hands in surrender. “Alright, won’t do it again. Damn, your nails hurt.”

“Aww, I'm sorry, big guy. I didn’t know you were so fragile,” I tease before exiting the car.

He follows behind me, mocking me. But I can't help the smile I'm sporting when we get to the front door. Although there’s still so much left uncertain, I finally feel the shards of my life are clicking back into place, like the last few pieces of a puzzle that’s taken years to put together.

Mom spent most of brunch filling us in on the latest gossip from last night’s Mahjong game with her girlfriends. I'm thankful for the reprieve her excitement to share all the details gives me.

We’re just about finished cleaning the kitchen, when Micah’s phone rings.

“Excuse me, ladies,” he says and steps out of the room.

“Thanks for cooking. It was delicious.” Isabelle Castrovinci is a great cook, but no one holds a candle to my grandma’s skills.

My mom grabs my hand and smiles at me. “I'm glad you’re both here. We need to make more time for each other, spend more time as a family. I miss you guys.”

“Aw, Mom, I miss you too.”

“It’s weird not having him around.” Her voice wobbles as she wipes a tear from her cheek. “He loved you both so much.” She says this line in some form or another every time we're together. I don’t know if this is her way of apologizing on his behalf, or if she’s trying to remind us of his presence.

Her world revolved around my father, and with him gone, I was afraid she’d lose herself. I know that feeling all too well. I thought I could literally die at any moment those first few months after Trent disappeared.

Micah walks back into the kitchen, grabbing his keys off the counter. “I gotta go. Love you,” he says, giving Mom a kiss on her cheek, then me. “Luca should be here soon to scoop you up,” he adds.

“Okay, love you too,” she replies back, but he’s already out of the room.

Mom makes her way to the table and motions for me to sit with her. She studies me for a few moments before she speaks. “ You seem happier lately. I hope you know that’s all I ever wanted for you.”

“I am happier. One day, hopefully soon, I’ll be able to tell you all about it.” I smile. I know I claimed to be a shell of the woman I once was, but I guess it was more obvious than I thought. I assumed I was still putting on a good outward show.

“I understand, sweetie.” She gives me a genuine smile, then reaches for my hand. “I’m here for you if you need anything.”

The grandfather clock in the hallway sounds, alerting me it’s one o’clock.

Shit, I’m running out of time.

“Luca should be here soon. I have to use the bathroom before I go.”

“No worries. Go do what you gotta do.”

Placing a quick kiss on her temple, I gather my purse and head into the bathroom, locking the door behind me. I take the test out of my bag, sucking in a deep breath at what I’m about to do. You can do this.

I read the instructions over and over again. I’m stalling, I know that. Bile rises up my throat at what I’ll do if this baby is Junior’s and not Trent’s. I can't even begin to imagine how much worse it’ll be if I’m carrying Junior’s heir. What if our plan fails and we can’t kill him, or if it all goes sideways…

I was on the pill until Junior threw away my pack. I only missed a few days before I got a new script and started taking the pills again. I assumed I'd be okay, but I’m no OB-GYN and have zero clue how those few days affected my cycle.

Fuuuck .

After peeing on the test, I set it on the counter. While waiting for the results, I pace the bathroom, trying my best not to break down in tears.

My mind is reeling over the what-ifs, then the sound of the doorbell breaking through my downward mental spiral.

Shit, he’s here already.

Within a moment, I hear my mom knock on the door. “Sweetheart, Vito is here.”

The hair on the back of my neck rises. What would Vito be doing here, when Micah specifically said Luca was picking me up?

“I—I’ll be right out,” I answer while fumbling with the trash of the test. I peek at the white stick, but nothing has registered yet, so I throw it in my purse along with the box and instructions.

Glancing in the mirror, I wipe away any trace of shed emotions. Then, I square my shoulders and grab my purse as I exit the bathroom.

“Ahh, there she is,” Vito says when I enter the kitchen. I look at my mother, making sure she’s okay, before returning my attention to him.

“And here you are,” I sneer. “You ready to go?” I need to get out of this house before he asks too many questions. I haven’t clued my mom in on my recent whereabouts, using her as my alibi.

“Of course, I bet you’re anxious to get home. Having spent so many nights at your mom’s lately, Nori’s been missing you,” Vito says.

Thank fuck, my mom doesn’t miss a beat. “It's been so nice having her here. I’ve been so lonely since Vincent passed.” She looks at me with nothing but love in her eyes.

Annoyed, Vito heads to the front door as I walk over to my mom and hug her. “I love you,” I whisper to her.

She reaches for something behind her and then secretively pushes the object gently into my stomach. Looking down, I take note of the metal barrel she’s clenching in her hands. Her eyes widen, imploring me to grab it from her. “I love you, too. Please be careful.”

Mother’s intuition.

I pull away with a nod, placing the petite pistol in my purse before heading out to where Vito and a guard wait next to the car. His sneer sends another chill down my spine.

Where the fuck is Luca?