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I wouldn’t say more yet.

We drove the last fifteen minutes in silence. As we neared the gates of the house, I saw several cars already lined the driveway. I parked behind the last one, recognizing several of the vehicles. I switched off the engine and took a deep breath. Gia’s hand touched mine, startling me. She didn’t say anything but looked at me with those eyes that seemed to know much more than spoken words.

I broke the gaze. “Ready?”

“Ready.”

We stepped out of the SUV at the same time. I tucked a pistol into the back of my jeans, making sure my jacket shielded it. Gia had hers in her purse, although we’d run out of time for those lessons. Leaving our bags in the trunk, I went to Gia’s side and took her hand. It felt cold and a little clammy. Strange enough, it made me stand taller, giving me strength enough for both of us.

“Whatever you do, do not show fear,” I whispered.

She didn’t deny she felt it this time. She simply nodded as we approached the foreboding double doors.

Without hesitation, I pushed on the doorbell. Last time I was here, I’d walked in, using my own key to enter. That key sat in my pocket today.

To my surprise, Salvatore opened the door, as if he’d been there waiting for me to arrive. We both stopped. His eyes scanned me from head to toe, and he gave me a small smile and a nod, holding out his hand.

I took it, meeting my brother’s firm grip with my own as he pulled me in for a hug, patting my back.

“Good. You did good to come.”

He released me. I looked at him, saw how much more gray was now mixed with the black of his close-cut beard, saw more lines around his eyes and mouth, not lines of worry or of a hard life. No. Lines of happiness. His skin glowed bronze, a byproduct of living happily under the sun.

Lucia turned the corner, looking tanned but otherwise just the same apart from her rounded belly protruding from the close-fitting dress she wore. She came to stand beside her husband, and I saw how his face changed, how his smile grew, how his gaze had brightened as he’d followed her path across the room.

How I felt, though—it was different this time.

It wasn’t with envy that I looked at them. Jealousy had given way to something else. I didn’t know when that had happened, but I was conscious of how my hand wrapped tighter around Gia’s waist as I pulled her closer to me.

Salvatore’s gaze moved to Gia while Lucia’s found mine.

“Lucia,” I said, giving her a short nod. “You look beautiful. Pregnancy becomes you.”

“Dominic,” she said, squeezing a little closer to Salvatore. “I’m glad you came. For Salvatore.” There was no missing the meaning of her words. She hadn’t forgiven me for what I’d done. For any of it. Not for abandoning her sister, her niece. Not for almost killing the man she loved.

I understood that and accepted my responsibility. It would take more than me showing up to win Lucia’s favor.

“You must be Gianna,” Salvatore said, studying Gia.

“Just Gia,” she replied, taking his hand.

Lucia’s gaze moved to Gia’s clothes, a pair of jeans and a sweater. Gia stepped out of my grasp and did a little twirl.

“They’re yours,” she said to Lucia. “I was in a bit of a bind. I hope you don’t mind.”

“They look great on you,” Lucia said. “I’m Lucia. It’s nice to meet you. I’m sorry about your bro—”

Gia shook her head. Lucia stopped.

Salvatore’s gaze returned to mine. “You came from Saddle River?”

I nodded.

“Was it you who bought the house outright?”

Again, I nodded, feeling embarrassed for the first time in a very long time.

He studied me but didn’t say anything more about it. “Come in. I think Roman has you staying in your old room. He didn’t mention a guest.”

“Gia stays with me.” Even I heard the possessive tone of that.

Lucia and Salvatore exchanged a quick glance but stepped back to let us in.

“How are Effie and your sister?” I asked Lucia, feeling like an asshole actually. A real asshole. A father who is a no-show.

“Great. Luke has been great for both of them.” Her delivery put me in my place.

“Lucia,” Salvatore cut in brusquely, giving her hand a squeeze.

Lucia cleared her throat. “When Effie heard we’d see you, she wanted to make sure to send you some of your favorite cookies. I have a tin for you upstairs. Not that you deserve it.”

“Enough,” Salvatore said, wrapping his hand around the back of her neck in warning.

She turned her stubborn face to his, and their gazes locked. Salvatore must have squeezed a little because Lucia narrowed her eyes but bit her lip. Probably to stop herself from talking.

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