PROLOGUE

SIXTEEN YEARS AGO

M ATTEO

“Who is Valentine Russo?”

Mama’s head came up and she stared at me blankly for a few seconds before she asked in Italian, “Why do you ask?”

“I was at Mario’s house, and one of his dad’s friends came over and said we look just like the Russos. I told him that our last name is Bonono, and he said that was a lie. I argued with him, and he said Papa wasn’t our dad but that other man was,” Luca explained. “Is that why we don’t look like Papa?”

“Carlo is your papa,” Mom said firmly.

“Who is Valentine Russo?” I asked again.

“Where is your papa?”

I knew Mama was hiding something because she wouldn’t answer the question, so I asked again. She ignored me as she stood up and walked out of the office toward the showroom where Papa was talking to a customer.

“Why won’t Mama answer us?” Luca asked.

“That man must be right.”

Luca scoffed before he said, “No, he wasn’t. Papa is our papa. I don’t know why you even bothered to tell Mama what that man said.”

“Why would they lie?” our friend Zach asked.

“Mama and Papa wouldn’t lie to us! That man was just crazy. He was probably drunk.”

“He didn’t seem drunk,” Zach said as he pulled one of the pens out of the cup on Mama’s desk and started clicking it. The sound annoyed me, but I was used to Zach doing things like that. He could never sit still and hated the quiet for some reason, probably because his house was hardly ever quiet. His papa screamed at his mama all the time. We could hear him yelling mean things even when we were upstairs in Zach’s bedroom with the door closed playing video games. When it happened, Zach always got very quiet and would turn the television up so we couldn’t hear exactly what his papa was yelling about.

We had never told our mama what almost always happened when we were at Zach’s because she probably wouldn’t have let us go visit him anymore. We’d hate that because Zach Campana was our best friend. I couldn't imagine what life would be like without him in it.

We made a pact last summer that we’d be best friends forever, even when we got old like our parents. Since Zach was going to take over the family business, he promised that he’d keep us with him and let us become his guards - just like the men who were always with his father and his grandfather.

We’d been in the office for what seemed like forever, but when the door opened again, it wasn’t Mama there. Instead, Papa was standing in the doorway with an odd look on his face.

“Venite con me, ragazzi,” Papa ordered in Italian as he motioned us towards him before he turned around to walk back into the showroom.

“Are we in trouble?” Zach whispered.

“Even if we are, Papa won’t hurt us,” Luca assured our friend.

I was shocked when we went outside, and Papa walked straight toward a limousine that was parked at the curb.

“Is that your papa’s car?” I asked Zach. We’d ridden in his father’s Town Car before when their driver took us somewhere, but never a limousine.

He looked at the driver and then shrugged before he said, “I don’t think so.”

The driver held the door open for Papa and, unsure of what was going on, the three of us stood on the sidewalk. Papa called for us from inside, and Zach got in first. Luca shoved me to go ahead of him, and I glared at him over my shoulder before I got into the car.

As the driver shut the door behind Luca, I asked, “What’s going on, Papa?”

“I thought we wouldn’t have to talk about this for a while, but apparently, the word is out.”

“What word?” Luca asked in Italian.

“Are you taking me home?” Zach asked uncomfortably.

“This has to do with you, too, Zach,” Papa said before he sighed.

“Whose car is this? Where are we going?” Luca asked.

“This car and the driver belong to a man named Rico Romano.” Of course, that shocked all three of us because we’d heard of the Romanos before but never imagined that our papa would have any connection to them. “I’m taking you to his office to talk with him along with Zach’s uncles.”

“Why?”

“You know I love you both. I was so blessed to have sons like you and thank God every day for bringing you into my life like He did.”

“We love you, too, Papa.”

“No matter what anyone says, I want you to know that I will always love you and never think of you as anything other than my own children.”

“We are your children,” Luca said with a bark of laughter.

I could tell that Papa was upset about something, and I silently berated myself for telling my mom about what that man had said to us. That didn’t stop me from asking, “Who is Valentine Russo, Papa?”

“He’s your biological father, Matteo. Since you were born first, you are the rightful heir of the Russo family.”

I looked over at Zach and saw that his eyes were wide with shock when he asked, “They’re Russos?”

“We’re Robonos!” Luca argued.

Papa reached across the expanse between the seats and took my hand in his and then reached for Luca’s with his other. “In my heart, you are my sons, but we don’t share blood. No matter what happens or who you become, I’ll always be your papa. I promise, boys. I will always be your papa, and I will never stop loving you.”

◆◆◆

TWELVE YEARS AGO

BELLA

“I hate you! You’re not even my real mom!” I yelled a split second before I slammed my bedroom door.

I heard a clap of thunder outside and thought that the weather was perfect for my mood, but as another sounded, the door to my bedroom flew open and slammed against the wall. I was shocked to see my twin brother standing there instead of our mom. Dylan was glaring at me with his hands clenched into fists at his sides. I knew that he was seconds from losing his temper but didn’t care because I was mad enough to welcome a good fight.

“Get out of my room!”

“Go apologize to Mom!”

“I’m not sorry for what I said because it’s the truth!”

“She’s our mother!”

I scoffed before I said, “Only because she has to be. She’s not our real mom.”

“Bellamy Lorna Greer Merrick-Conner!” I heard my dad bellow from the living room.

Dylan smirked at me right before our uncle yelled, “Get your ass out here right now! ”

I slammed into my brother with my shoulder as I walked past him and then heard him cussing when he bounced off the wall, but even that didn’t take the edge off my anger. If anything, it just grew when I walked into the living room and found my Uncle Angus standing in the doorway with his arms crossed over his chest and a scowl on his face. His hair was wet and his shirt was soaked from the rain as if he’d sprinted from his house to ours not caring that he was getting wet. Uncle Royal was standing beside him and Uncle Chess was a few feet away leaning on the doorframe that led into the kitchen. Both of them looked the same: disgusted and wet, having been pulled from their happy, comfortable homes to ours that was full of turmoil.

“What?” I snapped without thinking and then had to stop myself from stepping back when his eyes narrowed and he uncrossed his arms.

“I did not just hear you screaming at your mother,” my dad growled menacingly before he asked, “Did I?”

“She won’t get off my butt about stupid stuff, and I don’t want to hear it . . .”

“You don’t want to hear it? You don’t want to hear it? You know what I don’t want to hear?” my dad yelled. When he started stomping toward me, I wasn’t afraid as much as disgusted with myself for making him so upset. “I don’t want to hear you tell the woman who has loved you since the day you were born that you hate her! I don’t want to hear her crying when she tells me she doesn’t understand why you feel this way before she asks me if she did something wrong. I don’t want to hear you spit on the woman who has loved and supported you your entire life and never once treated you any differently than the children she gave birth to.”

By now, my dad was standing just a few feet away and looking at me with so much disgust on his face that I felt my heart start to squeeze and tears fill my eyes.

“I’ll tell you something, Bellamy. If my sister was standing in front of you right now, she’d be just as disappointed in your behavior as I am.” Dad took a deep breath and blew it out slowly to try and control his temper before he said, “If my sister taught me anything, it’s that life is too short and can be ripped away when you’re least expecting it. There are so many things I didn’t get to say to her because I had no idea that the last time we talked would be exactly that - the last time. Never say things you don’t mean, Bella, because someday, you might not have a chance to take it back.”

“I’m sorry,” I whispered. I looked around the room and found that the rest of my uncles had appeared as Dad and I argued. From the looks on their faces, I could tell that they were as disappointed as he was. Every memory I had included at least a few of them since they had made a pact on the day I was born - the same day that my biological mother had died - to raise me together. My mom was always right there, too, through thick and thin - no matter what. The tears that I’d been trying to hold back finally started to fall, and I asked, “Where is she?”

“At the office.”

“I’m sorry, Dad.”

“If you’re truly sorry, you won’t let it happen again, Bella,” Dad murmured before he turned and walked away. As if they’d practiced it, my uncles turned away, too, probably going home to tell their wives what a little bitch I’d become, as if they hadn’t already figured that out themselves since they were all close friends with my mom. Over his shoulder, Dad called out, “Find her, and tell her that.”

I rushed out the front door, not even looking back at my brother when he called my name. I didn’t want to see the disgust on his face because I felt enough of my own right now. Instead, I ran down the sidewalk to the street and jumped over the running water in the gutter before I turned toward the office that was located at the front of the property next to the guard shack. I slipped in through the back door and wiped my feet before I went straight to the file room - the place mom always seemed to gravitate to when she needed some time alone to think.

Unfortunately, she’d been spending quite a bit of time there lately, and I knew that was because of me.

I stopped in the doorway and found her standing in front of a file cabinet with her back to me and realized she had her earbuds in and had no idea she wasn’t alone. She shut that drawer and opened the one above it after she picked up the next file. I saw her wince as she stepped back onto her bad leg that always pained her when the weather changed.

I thought about all of the times I’d seen her take a step and wince before she went on with her life - playing with my brother and I or just working around the house. Even though she still felt pain from an injury that had happened soon after I was born, she never let it slow her down. Among so many other things, that just proved how strong my mom was - and she was my mom even if she hadn’t given birth to me.

My tears were still flowing, mixing with the rain on my face, when I called just loud enough for her to hear me over whatever she was listening to. Her back straightened, and she reached up to take her earbuds out before she took a deep breath and asked, “Is it still raining out there?”

“Mom.”

“Help me remember to turn the sprinkler off so it won’t water the grass in the morning. Lord knows we’ve had enough rain today and . . .”

“Mom,” I interrupted as I walked across the room and stopped beside her. When she turned to look at me through red-rimmed eyes that were puffy from crying, my heart broke and I let out a sob. “I’m sorry I said those awful things to you. I could never hate you.”

“I know, sweetheart. Sometimes when our emotions are in the driver's seat, we say things we don’t mean in the heat of the moment, but that doesn’t make them hurt any less.”

“You’re my mom, and you always will be. I love you.”

“I love you, too, Belly Button.”

“I don’t hate you. I could never hate you. I don’t know why I said that. I can’t even remember why we were arguing,” I blubbered.

Mom pulled me into her arms and kissed my temple before she said, “We were arguing because that’s what moms and daughters do sometimes, sweetheart.”

“I didn’t mean it!”

“I know you didn’t, honey,” Mom assured me as I squeezed her tight and cried on her shoulder. “And now we move past it and go on with our lives, but we remember this lesson - without any guilt because the apology was given - and we do better next time.”

“I will do better. I promise.”

“Honey, you’re growing up to be a smart and strong woman. Every time I look at you, I’m the proudest mom on the planet, and even though I never met your real mother . . .”

“You are my real mother,” I interrupted.

“Even though I never met Bellamy, I have heard so many wonderful things about her from your dad and your uncles that I feel like I know her, and because of that, I know she’d be proud of the strong young woman you’re growing up to be."

“I love you.”

“I love you too. You’ll never realize just how much until you have children of your own.”