23. Max

23

MAX

I stand frozen in the foyer, staring at the empty doorway where Gia and our children just disappeared. Our children . The words echo in my mind, shattering everything I thought I knew.

Five years. For five years I've been their "Uncle Max", when all along, they were mine. I can hardly wrap my brain around it. Why didn’t I know? Shouldn’t I have been able to tell? Why would Gia keep this from me?

Her answers reverberate in my brain. I'd abandoned her, fled to Vegas. At the time, I thought I was protecting her.

Last year, I'd treated her with cold indifference, too afraid of my feelings to even look her in the eye. I know now that she believes it was because I didn’t want to encourage her crush. God, had I given her a moment, she’d have told me then. But I didn’t. And while she was here with me, I'd made it clear that a family and children weren't part of my plan.

My chest tightens as I recall Gia's face when she finally told me the truth, a mix of defiance and vulnerability. She’s still so young, and yet, so strong and brave. Even at eighteen, forced to marry Aldo, she endured it with strength. Finding out she was pregnant, she'd protected all of us the only way she could in a world where the truth would have gotten us both killed. Under Gino's rule, a relationship between us would have been unforgivable. A pregnancy? A death sentence.

How can I judge her for keeping quiet when I couldn't even find the courage to tell Nic about my feelings for his sister? When I let her walk away rather than fight for what we could have had?

"Fuck." I storm to my office and pour a large glass of scotch. Sitting behind my desk, I replay the memory of every interaction with Dario and Daniella through new eyes. Their excitement to see me each morning. The way they'd beg me to read them stories. How naturally they fit into my life, bringing light and laughter to my empty house.

I’m a fucking coward. A fool. I see all my careful justifications for what they are. Excuses born of fear and pride. And now they're gone. My children, the woman I love, gone because I’m not brave enough to claim them.

Maria's footsteps echo in the hallway. She pauses in my doorway, a stack of fresh towels in her arms. "The house feels so quiet without the little ones. They brought such life here."

The ache in my chest threatens to split me open. Those kids, my kids, filled every corner of this place with their laughter and energy. I now understand how the quiet can be deafening. I can’t bear the silence, the emptiness.

Maria shifts the towels, waiting for a response, but I can't form words. She gives a small nod and continues down the hall, leaving me alone with the crushing weight of my choices.

Gia’s face haunts me. That final look of disappointment when I failed to speak up and confess to Nic, to claim Gia and our children. Failed to claim what was mine.

The kids had begged to stay, looking at me with those sweet eyes, and I'd stood there, mute as a statue, spouting empty promises about visiting.

"Fucking coward," I mutter, taking a long pull of scotch. The burn does nothing to ease the excruciating ache in my chest.

I'd had my chance. Right there in front of Nic. One moment of courage could have changed everything. I love your sister. Have for years. The kids are mine. Simple words. But I couldn’t get them out.

The scotch sloshes as I grip the glass harder, remembering how Gia's expression hardened when I stayed silent. How she'd turned away without another glance, herding the kids, our kids, off to pack. Even then, I'd told myself it was for the best. That I was protecting everyone by keeping quiet.

What a joke. The only thing I was protecting was my own reputation. My carefully constructed world of control and order. A life of control and order is empty, lifeless, painful.

I drain the glass wondering what amount I could drink that would temper this pain. I decide there isn’t enough booze in the world for that.

The quiet of the house is my punishment. No squealing laughter from the playroom, no patter of small feet in the hallway, no warm presence of Gia moving through my space like she belongs here.

Because she did belong here. They all did. And I let them walk away.

I’m not a man to wallow in pity, though, so I drag myself from my chair, determined to get my shit together. I still have a job to do.

I head to the shower to wash away the long night, and perhaps my guilt, although I know it will be with me, stronger than ever, for the rest of my life. The hot water pounds against my shoulders, doing nothing to ease the tension knotted there. I focus on the mundane, washing my hair, scrubbing my skin, mechanical movements that require just enough attention to keep my mind from wandering.

I dress methodically—crisp white shirt, dark suit, polished shoes. The familiar routine of knotting my tie grounds me in the present. This is who I am. Massimo Giraldi, underboss of the Nardone Family. Not a father. Not a lover. Just a soldier doing his duty.

My reflection in the mirror shows the mask sliding back into place. Features schooled into practiced neutrality, shoulders squared, jaw set. There's work to be done. Benny is in custody, and there are many questions about Gia’s stalker and a traitor in the family I believe he can answer.

I straighten my cuffs, adjust my collar. The business doesn't stop for personal crises. I need to compartmentalize, push everything else aside. Focus on the immediate tasks. Interrogation, investigation, maintaining order. The rest… the rest, I'll deal with later.

Or never. Just like I always have.

Besides, they’re better off without me. After all, what kind of man lets the woman he loves marry another, knowing the horror that awaits her? Who’s cold and cruel to her because he can’t handle his own feelings? Who forces her and their children out because of duty? I'm no better than the other men who've controlled and hurt her.

Gia deserves a man who'll stand up for her, fight for her. Not someone who keeps her hidden away like a dirty secret. The twins need a father who'll claim them proudly, not one who learned about them by accident and still couldn't find the courage to acknowledge them.

At least in New York, they have Nic's protection. I imagine at some point, he may try to arrange another marriage for her. But he’ll choose someone good who’ll care for Gia and the kids.

I take one last look in the mirror, and I see what Gia sees. An aging mobster too set in his ways, too afraid of change, too wrapped up in maintaining his image to embrace what matters. I hate what I see. I’m ashamed of this man.

Once again, I try to shake off the self-pity. It won’t solve anything. It won’t figure out what Benny is up to. It won’t ferret out a traitor in the family. There's still work to be done, starting with Benny.

The drive to our holding facility gives me time to piece together what I've learned. Benny's obsession with the twins' inheritance makes more sense. If word got out they weren't Aldo's, the entire estate distribution would be thrown into question. The money, properties, and business interests currently held in trust for them would revert to Aldo's blood relatives, namely, Benny.

I remember years ago when Benny first made his claim, Gia had been willing to hand over the inheritance. Now that makes sense too. She didn’t want to take what wasn’t hers or her children’s. But as usual, Nic and I felt we knew best and she had no recourse to oppose us.

I give my men a nod as I pass through the security gate and park at the building.

“Boss,” Dominic says as I enter the office area.

“How’s Benny?”

“Mother fucking whiner.” Dominic motions to the camera we have in the room Benny is being held in. It’s much like a prison—a single room, a sink, a toilet, and a cot. Benny is sitting on the cot, dried blood crusting his split lip from our earlier session. He’s looking up at the camera saying something, but I can’t hear it.

“I turned the volume off. I was getting sick of hearing him.”

“Has he been like that since I left?”

“Nah, he slept for an hour or so. Then he started up.”

I study him for a moment wondering if he’s going to change his tune and give me something I can use. I mean if I have to live my life with a hole in my chest, the least I can do is make this sacrifice worth it by making sure Gia and the kids are safe from this fucker.

“Did you feed him?”

“Not yet. Got a breakfast sandwich here. Was waiting to see what you wanted to do.”

“I’ll feed him.” I figure he might be more receptive if I offer him food.

I walk to the cell, Dominic following. When I open the door and enter, Benny perks up. "Ready to make that deal?"

I toss the sandwich on his cot. “You seem to forget where you are, Benny.”

“Not at all. But we can help each other. I help you get your mole, and you can help me get my money from those bastard brats.”

I nearly choke the life out of him. These are my children he's talking about, even if he doesn't know it. But I force myself to stay calm, to think this through. Benny's greed could be used to my advantage.

“Why are you here?” I ask him. I need to know for sure that he wasn’t sent here by the so-called mole.

He rolls his eyes. “It’s Vegas. I like to gamble. You figure it out.”

The urge to slam his head into the cinderblock wall burns through me. “Were you sent?”

“By my addiction, maybe. What the fuck, Max? I thought we had a deal.”

“The deal is that you help me and I help you, right? So far, you’re not any help. Someone's been stalking Don Nardone’s sister for months. Making threats.”

"Not me. I got better things to do than chase after that bit?—”

I grab his collar before he can finish the word. "Watch yourself." I release him with a shove. "Where were you before you were here?"

"Atlantic City. Ask anyone." He rolls his shoulders.

“Like who? Who should I ask?” I’m wondering who he was hanging around that would know family business or perhaps is in the family business that Benny thinks we have a problem with.

He shrugs. “The people working the tables at Caesars.”

“And what would they tell me?”

“That I was there.” He shakes his head. “What’s wrong with you? Your hearing going?”

I take the sandwich he’s about to bite into.

“Hey.”

“Who were you talking to that you think there’s a problem in the family?”

“Why would I tell you?”

It’s my turn to roll my eyes. “Because you want to steal an inheritance from two five-year-old kids.”

“It’s not stealing. It’s mine, I tell you.”

“This is a fucking waste of time.” I lean closer to him. “I saw Don Nardone this morning.”

That gets Benny’s attention. His eyes widen. “He’s here? In Vegas?”

“Lucky for you, I convinced him I could handle you because I’ll be honest, Benny. If he were here right now, you’d already be dead, instead of having a nice breakfast sandwich courtesy of Dom here.”

Benny’s eyes dart to Dominic and then back to me. I decide this is a good place to leave him to stew in his fear. I move to leave.

“Where you going?” Benny asks.

“None of your fucking business.” I walk out, leaving Dominic to lock up.

I head to the office and work until seven that night. When I return home, I’m exhausted after being up for over twenty-four hours. The house mocks me with its emptiness. I pour another drink even knowing it won’t do anything to help me.

In the kitchen, I find leftover Thanksgiving turkey. I close my eyes as a wave of guilt overwhelms me. I’m such a dick. Gia and the kids worked hard on this meal and I’d not shown up.

I slam the refrigerator shut and stalk to my bedroom. What I need is sleep. Of course, it eludes me. It doesn’t help that Gia’s scent lingers everywhere, even though I know Maria has washed my sheets.

I lie in bed staring at the ceiling, remembering how Gia felt in my arms. The way she'd curl into me, trusting and warm. The sound of her laugh. The kids bursting into the kitchen each morning, eager to help make breakfast.

I think of the playground equipment I'd rushed to have installed, desperate to keep them safe, but if I’m honest, I also wanted to give them a reason to stay. Now it stands empty, another reminder of what I threw away.

As the next days drone on, it’s more of the same. Work provides no distraction from the regret and guilt and pain. I find myself staring at my phone, thumb hovering over Gia's number. What would I say? That I'm sorry? That I miss them? The words feel inadequate against the weight of my cowardice. I’d abandoned them. There’s no coming back from that.

It’s only with Benny that I’m able to focus on something other than my own problems. Benny is more wily than I gave him credit for, but I’m fairly certain now that he’s not our stalker. He’s just a gambler who got lucky running into Gia. And this worries me, because if it’s not Benny, then Gia’s stalker is still out there. Likely in New York. Ready. Waiting.

On Sunday afternoon, I pick up the phone to call Nic.

"Max? Everything okay?" Nic's voice comes through clear and sharp.

“It’s about Benny.”

“Finally put us out of our misery with him?” Nic doesn’t hide that he wants me to kill Benny. As much as I think Benny is a rot on the earth, I’m not convinced we’re justified in killing him. After all, he’s right. The inheritance should be his because the twins aren’t Aldo’s.

“Not yet. I’m trying to find out who’s working against you in the family.”

“It’s probably just talk.”

“Maybe, but something doesn't add up.” I pace my office, measuring each word. Nic and I are friends, but he’s the Don. What he says goes. If he thinks I’m not following his order or not giving him respect, that could be problematic.

“What doesn’t add up? Gia was in Vegas and then Benny was in Vegas. He approached her and threatened her.”

“Like I said before, I’m not convinced he knew she was here. How’d he know she’d be at the casino? He wouldn’t.”

“Sounds like you're trying to cover your ass, Max.”

Fuck. “Nic, if I’m right and he’s not the stalker, someone else is still out there. Someone who might be more dangerous. Someone in New York."

Nic's silence speaks volumes. He’s finally understanding what I’m trying to say.

"Listen," I continue, forcing casualness into my tone. "Gia and the kids could still be in danger. I can come to New York for a while. Keep an eye on things there."

"You want to leave Vegas?" The surprise in his voice makes me wince. "That's… unexpected."

“You charged me with their protection, right? It doesn’t make sense to make them come back here, not when they’ve just gotten home again.”

“I’m surprised. You’ve been so against coming home. In fact, I feel like you don’t like protection duty."

My grip tightens on the phone. “I don’t like that she needs protection, but I don’t mind doing it. She's family. The kids too.” I’m speaking the truth, although Nic thinks I’m speaking more metaphorically. “I’ll bring Benny along. He’s scared shitless of you. If he’s telling the truth about a plot against you, you can probably get it out of him. I think it’s possible that the stalker and the traitor could be related. Or maybe I’m wrong, but better safe than sorry, right?” God, I’m babbling.

"You're right." Nic sighs. “Dominic is okay there in Vegas?”

“Yep. This is just temporary. Just until we find who's behind this." The lie sits heavy on my lips. Nothing about my feelings for Gia and the twins is temporary. But Nic doesn't need to know that. Not yet.

"Alright," he says finally. "When can you be here?"

“I’ll fly out late tonight. I can be at Gia’s by mid-morning.”

“Bring Benny, like you said. I want to hear what he's spewing.”

“Will do.”

The line goes quiet, and I picture Nic at his desk, probably sensing something off in our conversation. That’s another thing he’ll want to see me in person about. He’ll want to assess whether there’s something up with me. We've known each other too long to completely hide things from one another. That thought makes my stomach turn. How many years of friendship am I gambling with right now? When the trust is broken, what will he do?

How do I even tell him? I love your sister. Those kids are mine. I've been lying to you for years.

The thought of losing Nic's friendship, his trust, makes my chest tight. He's been more than a friend. He’s my brother in everything but blood. We've fought together, bled together, built this empire side by side. And here I am, about to blow it up because I can't stay away from Gia.

But the alternative, living without Gia and the kids, feels impossible now.

I pack for my return to New York. My hands pause over a small stuffed dinosaur Dario left behind, and I tuck it into my bag without hesitation. I head to the playroom to find something to bring to Daniella. I find a little art kit and pack it.

I think about Gia, but I know no gift will fix the chasm I’ve created between us. No, I’ll need words, and I hope to hell that between now and my arrival at her place tomorrow, I’ll find the right ones.

Can I really do this? Be the father those kids deserve, the man worthy of Gia's love? Forty-one years of habits don't change overnight. But then I think of how easy it was for them to enter my home, my heart. It was seamless. Automatic. And now they’re a part of me.

I close my bag and vow to return to New York as the man Gia saw in me before I let her down. I could lose everything—my position, my friend, maybe even my life—if Nic takes it badly. The smart play would be to stay here, keep running the Vegas operation, let Gia move on. But I'm done being smart. Done putting duty before family. Done denying the only happiness I’ve ever truly felt.

That future is worth any risk. Worth facing Nic's anger. As I exit my home, I pass a mirror in the foyer. My reflection shows the same face, graying temples, lines around my eyes from years of hard choices. But something's different now. The walls I built to keep my love for Gia out have crumbled.