32. Under a Spell

Chapter 32

Under a Spell

Golden hues of the rising sun peek through the arched windowpanes as I enter the library, a cup of coffee and a book in hand. Tightening a wool throw over my shoulders, I stare into the hypnotizing crackles of the fireplace, the sparking red embers flickering violently.

There is no rest for the wicked.

Or the hurt.

Sleep is the enemy and literature is the savior. Trading nightmares for literary escape is something that I'm used to. It's familiar, it's comforting. A book has an ending, a conclusion, it's there, on the last page. Will she, or won't she? Books are simple. Beginning, middle, end.

Am I at the end of a story?

Or at the beginning?

My gaze floats above the mantle to the oil paintings of generational criminals. Milo, his father, his mother, his brother. They're all there. Smiling. The soft brush strokes and muted colors of the paintings make them look harmless, normal, human. Just a family.

A family .

Sighing, I shake my head.

My future family.

Maybe?

"He was a handsome man, no?"

I gasp, my entire body jerking. Hot coffee spills over my hand as I spin around to find Antonia standing behind me. "Oh my God, you scared me. I thought you weren't coming until Christmas."

She takes a sip of espresso, her plum lipstick leaving a semi-circle stain on the tiny cup. "Natalia missed her mother." She strides toward me, her fingers twisting an emerald gem around her neck. "We arrived late last night."

"Oh," I hum, feeling mildly embarrassed as I wipe my coffee-drenched hand on my silk pajamas. "Well, welcome home. It's nice to see you again."

"It is nice to be back." Her eyes soften as she admires the paintings. "My husband was not a very photogenic man, but on a canvas?" She clicks her tongue, a ghost of a smile on her face. "He was beautiful."

"Milo looks just like him," I sigh, comparing the renderings of the two deadly men. "It's almost eerie."

"Yes, they are very similar, both in appearance and in heart," Antonia agrees as she faces me. "Emilio was Santino's favorite child." She expels a soft laugh. "Do not repeat this to Julia, she will argue otherwise."

"I would think most parents have a soft spot for their youngest," I muse as Antonia gestures for us to sit down on the couch. "I don't have any siblings but that's what I've heard."

"Very true." Antonia sets her coffee on the table. "Even when his hair turns grey, Milo will always be my baby." I shift uncomfortably as she slowly scans my face. "He told me what happened, Kiara. "

I swallow, anxiety thudding in my chest. "He did?"

"Yes." She lets out a heavy sigh. "His exact words were: Mamma, I fucked up."

"Oh..." I blink, taken aback by the curse words slipping from her elegant mouth.

"He also told me that he proposed to you," she continues, her body language difficult for me to read. "But you have yet to give him an answer." She tilts her head. "Do you love my son, Kiara?"

"Uh—" I stammer, gripping the novel that's resting on my lap. I want to be offended that she'd ask such an intrusive and invasive question but the lack of malice or judgment in her tone makes me think that she comes in peace. "He has many qualities that I love and many that I don't."

"You cannot love pieces, Kiara," she states, glancing at the painting of her late husband. "You must love the whole man or love none of him."

I'm trying .

"You loved your husband?" I ask, following her sightline. "All of him?"

She swallows, her gaze distant. "Our marriage was determined long before I was even born," she reveals. "What I did not love at first, I learned to love." She looks at me, her dark eyes piercing mine. "Can you learn to love all of Milo, Kiara? If you can, then there is hope. But if you cannot, then please leave, do not hurt my child. Do not hurt my baby."

"I don't want to leave," I admit in a low hum, nibbling on my bottom lip. "But I also don't know how to forgive him. It's only been a few days; I can't just forget what happened. I want to, Antonia, but I can't."

"Kiara…" She takes my hand in hers and strokes my fingers. "If you do not want to leave, this shows to me that you already have forgiven him." Her tender grip tightens. " Perhaps, it is no longer my son that you need to forgive but yourself."

I frown, not following her logic. "For what?"

"For letting yourself get hurt," she explains, her gentle touch reminding me of my nana's. "When we open our hearts, we allow pain to enter, and when it does, we tell ourselves never again. I have been where you are, Kiara. I have felt the same pain as you are feeling now but pain is a part of life, a part of love. Forgive yourself for loving him and the pain will go away."

Is she right? Am I angrier with myself than with Milo? I knew the kind of man he was, I knew his profession, his morals. I knew that he would hurt me. He told me that he'd hurt me. But I didn't listen. I didn't care. I still don't care. I want him. I want him so bad. I want all of him. I do. The good, the bad, the ugly, and the fucking beautiful. And there's so much beauty.

It's blinding.

"I don't think my heart can handle any more pain. It's at its capacity."

Antonia places her palm on my cheek. "Then let your heart be full of love. It will drive away all the pain. As a mother there is nothing I want more than for my children to love and to be loved."

That's what everyone wants.

"I don't know how to love him." Impending tears tickle my nose as I sniffle. "He's not a normal man. This isn't a normal family."

"And you are clearly not a normal woman," she says, tilting her head. "You are special, I can see fire in your eyes. I had the same fire, Kiara. That fire is what will keep you warm even on the coldest nights." She lets go of my hand and removes the emerald necklace around her neck, placing it in my palm. "I believe your fire will be of great benefit to my family."

I squeeze my hand shut, glancing down at my nana's necklace. I'm not ready to take it off. To trade one life for another. "Why are you giving this to me?"

"My husband's mother gave me that necklace before I got married. It was her blessing, as it is mine."

"I haven't said yes. I don't?—"

"Perhaps you have not verbally agreed, but in your heart, you know the truth."

"Antonia, I?—"

"Mamma!" Natalia screams, tiny thumping footsteps in the distance. "Mamma! I want to go play outside! Come! Play! Play!"

"Natalia!" Julia's groggy voice thunders through the walls. "It is so early! Why do you hate me?! My only child hates me!"

"Mamma, please!" Natalia begs. "Outside! Outside!"

Julia and her daughter round the corner, stopping outside the library. "Help me," Julia whimpers, rubbing her eyes and tightening her robe. "I gave birth to a demon. She does not sleep."

"Julia!" Antonia hisses, standing up. She tosses me one last knowing glance before she berates her child. "Go play with Natalia! Dio, sei pigro! You have not seen her in weeks!"

"But Mamma," Julia whines. "I need coffee first and I need to shower and I?—"

"I'll take her outside," I offer, hoping Julia doesn't have a full-on meltdown. "I just need to change first."

"You are my hero, cara!" Julia pouts, running up to me and wrapping me in a hug. "Grazie! Grazie! Grazie! "

"Outside!" Natalia stumbles toward me and pulls on my sleeve. "Now! We go now!"

"Talia!" Antonia snaps, peering down at her granddaughter. "You are being very rude right now. Perhaps you should not go outside after all."

Natalia's bottom lip quivers. "But Nonna!"

"Apologize to Kiara and thank her for volunteering to play with you," Antonia demands, crossing her arms. "Well?"

Talia's bright blue glossy eyes meet mine as she blubbers, "I'm sorry, Kiki. Please take me outside. Please!"

"Can you wait two minutes while I go get dressed?" I ask, running my fingers through her fine hair. "Hmm?"

She nods, wiping her snotty nose. " Si ."

"Good," I chuckle, glancing up at Julia. "I'll be back in two minutes, okay?"

Julia mouths thank you to me as I exit the library, Antonia's necklace held firmly in my palm. She's giving me her blessing. Literally. God, what am I supposed to do? Seriously. God, tell me what to do. Help me. Give me a sign. A signal.

Anything.

Knowing there's a temperamental toddler waiting for me, I quickly change out of my pajamas and into a sweater and jeans, slipping on a pair of black leather booties before heading back downstairs.

"Alright." I zip up my jacket and hold out my hand to the jumping toddler. "Let's go!"

Natalia screams as we step into the courtyard. She darts to the woven box of toys, pulling out chalk, a jump rope, and bouncy balls. She hands me a piece of pink chalk. "Draw!"

"Yes ma'am," I chuckle, kneeling down beside her as we start doodling on the cobblestoned yard.

After playing with Natalia for over an hour, I've concluded that children have the attention span of goldfish. I am no longer of interest to Natalia as she has found a bug in the crevices of the stones that is far more entertaining than I am. Perching down on a stone table built into the courtyard, I watch Talia crawl on all fours as she tries to trap the bug with a plastic cup.

"She will be busy for hours." I whip my head to the side, Milo's decadent, deep voice filling my cold ears. "Good morning, Kiara," he says, striding toward me, two cups of coffee in his hand. "You must be cold."

"A little." I take the large mug from his hands, warmth radiating off his body as he sits down beside me. "Thank you."

"Julia told me you volunteered to play with Talia." He smiles at his niece, his expression glowing with affection. "That was very kind of you."

I blow on the coffee before taking a sip. "I like kids. I actually wanted to be a teacher when I was younger. Mold young minds, make macaroni necklaces, finger paint. That was a long time ago. Before—" I sigh. "Everything changed."

"Your parents?"

"My parents, my grandpa," I murmur, an ache in my heart. "I wanted to get an early childhood education degree, but I couldn't do it. I needed to stay with Nana. It didn't seem like a big deal at the time, I figured one day I'd have kids of my own but—" I pause, shaking my head. "Well, you know."

I still remember how devastated I felt when my doctor informed me that my chances of getting pregnant are under five percent. At twenty years old, it's not something I was even thinking about, but to know it could never happen was soul-crushing. That day, my doctor took away a part of my future .

Milo places his mug on the bench and removes mine from my hands. "Do not look so sad, tesoro," he says, tucking a loose hair behind my ear. "There are many ways to have children."

"I know, but it's not the same." I lean into his touch, his rough hand keeping me stable, upright, present. "Don't you want kids of your own?"

"I do." His thumb grazes my temple, his rich dark eyes flickering across my face. "But I want you more."

"You shouldn't have to choose. Maybe this is a sign that we don't work. Maybe this wasn't meant to be."

"Nonsense." He twines his fingers through mine. "Life is a constant series of choices, and I choose you. Kiara—" He caresses the underside of my wrist. "I love the reality of you more than the possibility of children. And in the future, if we wish to become parents, we will figure it out, together."

"Why do you want to marry me?" I bite my lip, searching for more reasons to leave, to get out, to spare myself more pain. "We haven't known each other that long. Is it because you're afraid I'll leave? Is that why you asked?"

"It might seem as though I asked you out of desperation, and perhaps, at that moment, I did, but—" A sly smirk clips his lips as he cocks his head to the side. "But you have bewitched me, tesoro."

I expel a small laugh. "Are you trying to woo me with a line from Pride and Prejudice ?" I tilt my head. "That line isn't from the book, it's from the movie. How do you even know that?"

Milo shrugs, a grin on his face. "It is Julia's favorite, I have seen it many times. But it captures exactly how I feel about you. I am under your spell, tesoro. You have bewitched me."

Impossible. He is making it fucking impossible not to smile. I have zero control. I'm helpless. I am under his spell just as much as he is under mine. It's magic. I'm enchanted by his words, the sincere vulnerability in his voice, by the future in his eyes, by the promise in his touch.

But not all magic is good. Some magic is dark and sinister and all-consuming.

"Spells can break," I whisper, my skin hardening into a protective barrier. "They don't last forever."

"You are still unsure." Milo releases a labored, lifeless breath as he runs his hand through his hair. "It is understandable."

"I'm trying. I am."

"I know." A faint, heartbreaking smile captures his lips as his gaze flickers across my face. "I believe you." He lifts his hand to my cheek, leaning closer to me. "I want to kiss you, tesoro."

I wind my hands around his neck, my fingers digging into his skin. "Then kiss me."

My chest rises as his soft lips feather against mine, his sweet breath filling my lungs. It's a dream, a breathtaking illusion of happiness, of hope, of home. My grip tightens around his neck as I deepen our kiss, praying that some dreams come true.

"Gross!"

We pull away, our breathing shallow as we peer down at a cringing Natalia. "Are you spying on us, principessa?" Milo asks, lifting a brow.

"No!" she protests, stomping her foot. "I want to play with Kiki now! Go away Zio."

I stifle a laugh. "Tired of chasing bugs?"

She frowns, crossing her arms. "He too fast for me."

"Milo!" Marchello calls out from the doorway. He glances at me, a small smile on his face as he nods. "We must leave now."

I frown. "Where are you going?"

"To Milano for a day, I need to meet with Nico about—" He glances down at Natalia who is watching us with a curious expression. "The sparrow." He looks at me. "I will be back tomorrow afternoon." He pauses, rubbing his chin. "Would you like to come with me?"

"No!" Natalia answers on my behalf. "She mine! You go!" She shoves his shins. "She mine!"

"Talia," Milo scolds, "do not push."

She scowls at her uncle. "Go, Zio! I want Kiki! Please!"

"Kiara—"

"It's fine." I hop off the stone table and dust off my jacket. "I'll see you when you come back." Natalia grabs my hand, twirling herself around my finger. I laugh. "I think she'll keep me busy until you return." I pause. "Don't do anything stupid, okay?"

"Never. I will see you tomorrow, tesoro."

"Tomorrow! Santa comes tomorrow!" Natalia sings, prancing around. "Presents! Presents! Presents!"

Santa already gave me my gift.

I'm just too scared to open it.