They had spent ten years hating me and I had spent it wishing it was all different, that I had behaved differently, that I had fought Hugo and not allowed him to control me with fear, that I had simply refused to force them into signing the contract.
Brenno looked surprised, as though he had not realized that my life without them had been fraught with pain, but he inched closer as if he trusted me more, even subconsciously.
I exhaled, releasing the breath I had been holding since their departure ten years prior and managed to say, “I am sorry I caused pain by forcing you to sign the contract. I am sorry you were traumatized and killed Stefano. I am sorry I threatened you. I am sorry I forced Fiorella to become engaged to Oratio and that my men kidnapped Bella. I am simply sorry that it ended up this way.”
“I can forgive you. I don’t want to hold onto this anymore. It’s fucking exhausting,” he said suddenly and quickly through a pained voice. “If I can forgive everything else, I can forgive you for being as abused and fucked as us.” He sighed long and hard, gesturing to his brother on the floor. “It doesn’t mean much, but I know he’s fucking sorry too.”
It did mean a lot, it meant a lot because I knew it was the truth. The man who had harmed my wife was not my brother, and though I would never forgive Cesare for what he did, that did not mean I could not move on and reacquaint myself one day with the man inside.
I lowered myself beside Cesare, allowing him to reach for me, to hold my arm. “You are going to get help, Cesare, and then we will discuss this once you are better, but I do not think this is you. When you return to who you truly are, I know that you will hate yourself for this, but I do not want you to, and neither will my wife. I do not forgive you; I willneverforgive you, but I would like to meet again the man whom I never needed to forgive in the first place. Will you do that for me and for your family?”
He nodded slowly, closing his eyes like even that exhausted him.
Brenno released a shaky breath. “How the fuck do we void any of the contracts we currently have and be done with this crap? I’d quite like to move on and plan my wedding.”
32
MILAN
We remainedon the floor for hours, and just as we began to believe Ezio had forgotten about us, the door’s metallic lock clicked. Ezio groaned in effort as he pulled open the door and stood like a king overseeing a kingdom. “Hi!”
Brenno transferred a sleeping Cesare’s head onto my shoulder before jumping to a stand. “I’m going to murder you in your sleep. Do you know that?”
Ezio tutted and rolled his eyes. “You say thatallthe time and I’m still alive.”
I chuckled. “He does?”
“Oh yeah.” Ezio laughed, hugging a wad of paper to his chest. “He chokes me out all the time too… I think I got asthma because of?—”
“Thank you, Ezio,” Brenno hissed, snatching the paper from his arms. “What the fuck is this?”
He scratched his head. “I don’t really know, but that guy gave it to me to give to you. What’s his name... Aaron or something?”
“Adriano?” I suggested, my brows raising.
Ezio jumped and clapped which was an unexpected move. “Yes!”
Adriano being at the Feras’ house was not something I had anticipated. That indicated that he had been involved in our wives’ plans this evening and I was unsure how to feel about this.
Brenno’s brow furrowed at what he was reading, but he quickly tipped his head back andlaughedbefore turning and throwing it into my lap.
I frowned as I picked up the stack, careful not to jostle Cesare, and began reading the pages that appeared to be littered with sparkly pen fingerprints and drawings of sunshine in the corners.
It was another contract, one with extremely specific clauses.
1: The Luccas and the Feras are allowed to visit one another (no death allowed).
2: Everyone is allowed to speak of their pasts, but nobody can use it for nefarious purposes like making Milan homeless.
I flicked the page, finding a suspiciously bloody signature from Adriano’s father, Diego, stating that all previous clauses and contracts were null and void, and I wondered exactly how our wives had achieved this until I remembered who had been in that hospital.
Matteo Bonafede. Adriano. Francesco. Any of them would certainly have helped my wife get Diego to void it. They all felt as though they owed her in one way or another.
A chuckle left my chest, which only grew into a full laugh as I found the final clause of this extremely important document.
3: A week in December and July each year must be spent at the holiday home in the Bahamas together or at any special occasions that we (Sicily, Fiorella, and Bella) deem necessary. No complaints allowed.
“Holiday home in the Bahamas?” I smiled at how very Sicily Lucca that final clause screamed. “I was unaware any of us owned one.”
