22. Gia

22

GIA

I stare at Max leaning against his desk looking at me like he doesn’t know me. For as long as I wanted to tell him, I’m now nervous. What is he going to do once he learns the truth? I can’t stop the hope that he’ll be happy and ask us to stay, but the tense expression on his face suggests he’s not eager to know the truth.

“If you’re asking who Dario and Daniella’s father is… it’s you, Max.”

He sucks in a breath. For long moments, he doesn’t say anything, but I can’t read his expression except to know he’s not acting like a proud papa.

“I used a condom.”

Those few words hurt and anger me. “You think I’m lying? You think I slept with someone else?”

“You slept with Aldo.”

I have to look away for a moment because I don’t want to cry. I want to be strong. I finally look back at him. “Yeah, Max, I did because I was forced into marrying him which gave him the right to…” I can’t finish the sentence. Max at least has the good sense to wince, like he knows that was an asshole thing to say.

“You said you ran the numbers and asked me about it. I’ve told you the truth. What’s the point of asking if you’re going to call me a liar?”

It’s his turn to look away for a moment. He takes in a breath and then turns back to me. "Why didn't you tell me?" His voice is low.

I suppose I’m feeling defensive. A burst of anger flares in my chest. "Tell you? How exactly was I supposed to do that, Max? A pigeon? Because you disappeared to Vegas without a goodbye and my father took my phone.”

He flinches, but I press on. "And you know what would have happened. My father would have killed us both for messing up his deal with Aldo. Assuming you’d have done anything, because I suspect you wouldn’t have.”

His jaw tightens, but he doesn’t contradict me. After a moment he asks, “What about last year? Aldo was dead by then. At the end, so was your father.”

I’m being petty when I exaggerate, “Hmm… last year… let me see… Oh, I know. You treated me like I was toxic. Every time I tried to talk to you, you found an excuse to leave."

The memory of his cold dismissals still stings. His attitude now is similar to then.

I did try to tell you then, Max. But you made it impossible.”

"That’s not?—”

“That’s not what? Not true?" I stand, wanting to exert my own power. "You've spent years running from whatever this is between us. And now you're angry that I kept this secret? A secret that kept all of us alive?"

“Fine. But what about now? These past weeks we've been together. You still kept this from me."

I cross my arms, trying to hold myself together. "Should I have told you between your speeches about not wanting kids or a family? Or maybe when you were explaining how wrong it was for us to be together. Because you were too worried about appearances. About what people would think of the great Massimo Giraldi being with his goddaughter. About maintaining your perfect image with Nic and the family." The words pour out, years of hurt behind them. "Well guess what? Your precious reputation is still intact. No one knows except me, and now you."

His jaw clenches. "That's not fair."

"Fair?" My laugh comes out bitter. "You want to talk about fair? You’re not the one who is considered chattel in the family, a commodity to be sold for a man’s power or pleasure. You’re not the one who has to pack up their life because someone else says so. If life were fair, you and I—” I stop short of verbalizing what I’d once hoped for in my life. For our lives together.

He opens his mouth to speak but a knock comes on the door. “Mr. Giraldi.” Marcus’s voice comes through the thick wood.

“Come in.” Max straightens, turning into the Mafia capo he is.

Marcus enters, giving me a nod. “I’m sorry to interrupt, but Don Cardone is here.”

Max’s brows furrow together. “Here?” He points his index finger down. “As in this house?”

"He's just pulled into the drive."

I’m as surprised as Max is. I know Nic had given Max until today to resolve the issue with Benny, but I hadn’t expected him to fly out here. He must have left at the crack of dawn in New York to get here before noon. I’m sure it’s so he can fly home to be with Bella and the kids by tonight. I envy Bella, the devotion she has from Nic.

“Did you know about this?” Max asks me.

I shake my head. “No, Max, this isn’t another thing I’ve kept from you,” I say bitterly.

Max turns back to Marcus. "Thank you, Marcus.”

Marcus nods again and leaves Max’s office. Max adjusts his suit jacket and tie as he heads out the door following Marcus. He's so laser focused, it's almost as if he doesn't remember I'm there. I follow him out wondering what he plans to do. Will he tell Nic about his newfound fatherhood? Will he be a father to Dario and Daniella?

Marcus opens the door and Nic strides in, his presence filling the room like it always does. His dark eyes sweep over us, and I wonder if he can sense the tension crackling in the air.

"There's my favorite sister." Nic pulls me into a hug, but I can barely return it, my body rigid with anxiety.

“I didn’t know you were coming,” I say.

“Max called about Benny, so I figured I'd come check things out myself. Plus, I thought I'd escort my sister home.”

I love Nic. If anyone has been like a father to me, it’s Nic. I know he loves and cares for me, but like all the men in this world, he feels compelled to make my decisions for me or think I can’t maneuver in the world without an escort.

When we pull away, Nic gives Max a quick hug.

“Where are the kids?”

The mention of the children makes me glance at Max, but his face remains impassive. Professional. Like we weren't just having a life-altering conversation moments ago.

"Outside with Maria," I manage to say. "They're enjoying the playground Max had built."

"A playground?" Nic raises an eyebrow at Max. "You always have gone over the top for Gia. Spoiled her rotten.”

I catch the slight tension in Max's jaw, but his voice remains even. "The kids needed somewhere to play."

“Well, how about you catch me up on Benny while Gia and the kids get ready to go?”

I'd known we'd be leaving soon, but now with Max knowing the truth about the twins, everything feels different. Surely, we need to resolve this. What is his plan?

I look at Max, fully expecting him to say something to indicate he and I had some unfinished business. Hell, he should claim his kids, loud and proud, even if Nic gets upset.

Max's eyes flick to mine for a fraction of a second before returning to Nic. Before he can say anything, the back French door opens, and the kids come bursting in.

“Uncle Nic!” they squeal in unison, launching themselves at him.

Nic catches them both, lifting them into a bear hug. "There are my munchkins! Have you been good for Max?"

"We made breakfast every day!" Daniella announces.

"And Uncle Max built us a playground," Dario adds, bouncing on his toes. "Come see it!"

My heart aches watching them. They're so comfortable here, so happy. I steal a glance at Max, who's staring at the children with intensity. Emotion crosses his face, and I hold my breath, waiting for him to accept them as his own.

"Actually," Nic says, setting them down, "we need to pack up your things. You're coming home with me today."

The joy drains from their faces. Dario’s bottom lip trembles. "But we just got our playground."

“We don’t want to go yet,” Daniella adds.

"I'm sure Max is looking to have peace and quiet in his home again.”

They look at Max, and I see hurt in their eyes that they think Max is why they have to leave.

“I thought you liked us here,” Daniella says.

“Did we do something wrong?” Dario asks.

Max clears his throat. "I do like you here, and no, Dario, you did nothing wrong.”

This is it. This is the moment Max puts all this right. Where he grabs hold to the kids, even if he doesn’t want me.

“But your Uncle Nic is right. You need to get back to your regular life."

My heart drops, an indication that once again, I’d hoped Max would step up and say he wants us. I bite my lower lip to keep from crying as I turn to see the kids outside, carefree, laughing. I want to punch Max for turning his back on them.

The twins turn to me, their eyes pleading. "Mom, can't we stay? Please?"

I wonder how long before they discover I have so little agency in my life. I can’t stay because the men in charge say I can’t.

"We need to go home," I manage. "Let’s go start picking up your clothes and toys, okay?"

They turn to Max. “Why can’t we stay?” Dario asks.

Max looks at me like he wants me to help, but hell no. I’m not going to be a part of his abandoning them.

“You can come back any time,” Max says.

“Max and I have some business to discuss,” Nic says to me. It’s his way of telling me to deal with the kids.

“We can go talk in my office.” Max extends a hand down toward his office. Nic leads the way, and Max follows without a look back. Coward. Even now, with the truth laid bare between us, he chooses distance. Safety. The perfect image he's cultivated all these years.

The betrayal cuts deep, not just for me but for our children who don't even know what they're losing. I turn away, unable to watch Max walk away from us again.

"Come on, sweethearts. Let's get your favorite things packed first.” I gently nudge them in the opposite direction, away from Max, down to their room.

Dario drags his feet, while Daniella keeps looking back over her shoulder, probably hoping Max will change his mind.

“Why don’t you go to the playroom and gather up a few toys you want to bring home?” I figure Max has no use for them so he won’t mind us taking them.

“Why do we have to go?” Dario asks.

“Because it’s time. It’s like when you go to your friend’s house. You stay, have fun, but then you have to go home.” I give him a smile, wishing I could erase his disappointment and pain. “Hey, I know, when we get home, we can invite Joshua over,” I say about Dario’s best friend in kindergarten. “And Daniella, we can have Keely over. Won’t that be fun?” I fill my voice with enthusiasm.

They shrug. “I guess,” Dario says. The two drag themselves to the playroom. I go into their bedroom and pull out the suitcases we arrived with. I fold their clothes mechanically, creating neat piles while the kids sulk on their beds.

“I can help, Mrs. Cantore,” Maria says, entering the bedroom.

“Thank you, Maria. I appreciate it.”

“Of course. I have to say, I’ll miss you all. The house has been filled with such lovely energy with you and the kids. It’s been good for Mr. Giraldi.”

Not good enough , I think but don’t say. “If you wouldn’t mind packing their clothes, I’ll go help them with the toys.”

“Of course. And anything that doesn’t fit in your bag, I’ll have it shipped to you. Don’t you worry.”

I leave Maria to pack and find the kids in the playroom.

“Can we take new toys?” Daniella clutches her stuffed unicorn to her chest.

“What about the other stuff?” Dario asks, looking a little lost. Like he can’t decide what he wants to take the most.

"Maria will ship the rest of your things." I need a moment to regather myself. “I’m going to my room to pack my bag. You two keep working, okay?”

“’Kay.”

I stop at the bathroom, splashing cold water on my face, trying to wash away the burning behind my eyes.

A soft knock at the door makes me jump. "Mrs. Cantore? The children are asking about their school books."

I close my eyes, willing for strength. I need to focus on now. On packing the essentials. On acting like all this is normal. There will be time for falling apart once we're home.

Once we’re packed, I help the kids put on their backpacks. I grab my purse and with Maria’s help, we roll our suitcases to the foyer. Marcus is there to load them into Nic’s rented SUV.

The door to Max’s office opens, and Nic strides down the hall, Max following him.

"Ready?" Nic asks, his hand warm on my shoulder.

I nod, not trusting my voice.

Nic shakes Max’s hand. “Keep me posted on Benny.”

“Will do.”

“Let’s get home,” Nic says with a grin and excited enthusiasm. I’m sure he’s thinking about getting home to Bella and the kids.

I should thank Max. I should have the kids give him a hug goodbye. But he’s rejected us. Rejected his own children.

“Come on, kiddos, let's get in the car.” I usher them out the door.

“Bye, Uncle Max,” Dario says weakly with a quick look over his shoulder.

“Bye,” Max says.

We step out into the bright Nevada sun. I take one last look at the house as Nic helps the kids into the back of the SUV. All those weeks of breakfasts and bedtime stories, of swimming and playground adventures, of stolen moments with Max, they feel hollow. Like a wish I wanted but never got.

I climb into the SUV after the kids, closing the door on this chapter of our lives without a backward glance. Some goodbyes are better left unsaid. I learned that from Max.

An hour later, the drone of the jet engines fills the cabin as my children play games on their tablets. Their earlier tears have dried, replaced by the distraction of technology, a mother's saving grace on long flights.

Nic slides into the seat across from me, loosening his tie. “Everything alright?”

“Sure.”

He studies me. “This thing with Benny, while it’s over, it’s a reminder that your safety, the kids’ safety, is at risk.”

Where is he going with this? “So is Bella and the kids’. Anyone connected to you.”

He nods. “But she has me. You have no one. Max plans to stay in Vegas. Must be the dry air.” Nic shakes his head as if he doesn’t understand why Max doesn’t want to return to New York. I wonder what Nic would say if I told him the truth. Max doesn’t come back to New York because of me.

“Anyway, I’m thinking maybe it’s time you consider getting married again.”

If I were drinking something, I’d have choked on it. "Are you serious? After everything with Aldo, you want to arrange another marriage for me?"

“No one like Aldo. But you and the kids need protection, Gia. The kids need a father figure. I’m spread too thin now to do it justice, and Max, well… he’s firmly planted in Vegas.”

“You want me to marry Max?”

“What? Hell no. I meant he’s your godfather and could be a father figure, could protect you, but he’s not around.”

I nearly laugh with the horror in Nic’s eyes over the idea of Max marrying me. I suppose Max has a point to be concerned. Luckily for him, I’m good at keeping secrets.

“Then hire more bodyguards. I don’t want a husband," I snap, keeping my voice low so the twins don't hear. "And I definitely don’t want one arranged by my Don."

His jaw tenses. "I'm trying to look out for you as your brother, like I always have."

"By selling me off like Dad did?” The betrayal burns in my chest. "I thought you were different from him, but you're just like him, thinking you can control my life, use me as a business bargaining chip."

"This isn't about control?—”

"Isn't it?" I lean forward, anger making my voice shake. "Did you even ask if I want to remarry? Or did you just decide what was best for me, like always?"

The hurt that flashes across Nic's face almost makes me regret my words. Almost. But I'm done being the dutiful sister who accepts whatever path is chosen for her.

"You don't own me. I'm not some asset you can use in a business deal. I won't let you or anyone else decide my future."

He sucks in a breath but doesn’t say any more.

When we arrive back in New York, it’s late. While it’s only seven in Nevada, it’s ten in New York. But the day has been long, so the kids are tired and I’m able to put them to bed when we arrive home.

With them asleep, I take inventory of the townhome, making sure everything is in place. Reorienting myself to it. At first, it feels foreign. The kids and I had settled into Max’s place to the point it felt like home. But it’s not. This is home.

I pull out a bottle of wine, pouring a glass to settle my nerves so I can go to bed shortly too. I check on the kids one more time, seeing them sound asleep in their beds. How could Max let them go? He didn’t even try.

I move back to the living area, sinking onto the couch and curling my legs under me. My stupidity burns in my chest. I’d known better, but like an idiot, I'd opened up my heart only to have Max dismiss it, choosing duty over love. Again.

It’s time to let that go and move on. My children need their mother, not this lovesick woman pining after a man who'll never choose her. Who won’t choose them. They deserve better than that. I deserve better than that.

Maybe it would have been different if I’d told him about the kids sooner, but what-ifs won't change anything now.

I'm done letting that pain control me, done letting others—my father, Nic, even Max, decide what's best for me and my children. I've spent too many years being someone's daughter, sister, wife… someone's secret. It's time to be my own woman. The twins need a mother who shows them how to stand on their own feet, not one who waits for others to determine her worth.

I need to take control of my life. Starting now.