Dad swigged the tall flute of champagne in his hand, tightening his hold on Mom’s waist as he said, “I’m glad we worked this out, Sicily. Can’t you see how beneficial this arrangement has been?”
My false smile fell. “This arrangement is mymarriage, Dad. It always was a marriage; you just forced it.” I stepped closer, not allowing myself to see my father as the head of my household any longer. “Our happiness is thanks tous, not you.”
Dad’s face paled, and he looked shocked, stunned to the core, while I simply felttriumphant.
“Sicily,” Mom practically whined, forcing me to remember that she was there too. “Don’t be upset with your father, he does so?—”
“Oh,” A familiar, loud,relievingvoice said from behind me. “Is that our mother still pretending that Dad hasn’t cheated on her with five women a week since she got pregnant the first time?” Fiore clicked her heels right over to me, engulfing me in a strong hug before turning to our parents with her sparkly black dress and stern red lips.
My sister and I had spent weeks discussing things, stitching together the hole that the kidnapping had created between us. Fiorella had found the courage to explain what had happened to her, and while it had shattered my heart, it explained the knot hers had formed with Brenno’s. They made one another feel safe, and that was all they’d each ever wanted.
To say that my sister was the same girl she’d been back in New York would be a lie; this Fiore standing before me was certainly not the reckless, problematic Bianchi she had left New York as, but a softer version of herself that knew that when her chaos came out, Brenno would be right there, containing everyone else so she could be safe.
I hated to admit it, but they were good for one another.
Dad huffed a scoff, one that held no power. “Nice of you to come home, Fiore.”
“You’re welcome.” She smiled, but it was tense and fraught with anger as she stepped forward to pull Mom into a tense hug. “Hi, Mommy.”
“Are you okay, baby?” Mom asked, her lip wobbling.
A strong hand pressed firmly to my spine, and Brenno stood between my sister and me, holding us tall in front of the people who should have cared for us. He scoffed at my mother, causing her to startle slightly. “You’re asking her that now when she’salready been gone for the best part of a year? Are you fucking kidding me?”
My lips tried to smirk as Brenno’s angry face looked somewhat adorable in the sparkly bow tie Fiorella had coerced him into wearing.
One of the most dangerous men in the world was wearing asparkly bowtie,and the other was wearing a pink one.
“I’m aware of how long my own daughter has been gone for,” Dad snapped, narrowing his eyes. “I assume you’re the reason my daughter went missing and hasn’t yet returned?”
“Yetreturned?” Brenno chuckled. “Over my dead body will she return to you. You’ll be lucky if you get an invite to the fucking wedding, you?—”
“Wedding?” My dad looked ready to pass away on the spot. “What wedding? You’re not?—”
Someone cleared their throat, halting my father’s words. I looked to the side, and my jaw almost fell to the floor as I found Cesare standing tall in a tux that matched his brother’s with a tiny dark-haired attachment in his arms.
Cesare had beenaway, which only our family knew meant in a psychiatric institution. At first, only Brenno, Ezio, and Milan had visited him, but over time, he had accepted me. Bella hadn’t been so brave, worrying that he would regress if he saw her, but clearly, she had seen him since he came home, considering their son, Ciro, was currently fast asleep in the crook of Cesare’s arm.
I hadn’t known he was due to come home, but tears welled in my eyes at the thought that he’d done it, he’d made it out and got himself healthy in time to see his child’s first week. It had been Bella’s one worry that Cesare would miss too much, and Ciro wouldn’t get to know his father, but he had been determined and here he was.
“Congratulations, Sicily,” he said, forcing the conversation with my parents to be long forgotten. “The place looks great.”
“When did you come home?” I focused on the only important thing—him.
Cesare smiled, looking proudly down at his son. “I came home the day he was born—right before he was born actually. I got very lucky, but I was just happy I could be there with Bells.”
Cesare and I had spent hours talking, walking around the institute’s gardens, and learning about one another. He’d apologized so many times, explained why his psychosis even existed, and I’d understood even if being around him still made my heart speed in the wrong ways. It hadn’t been his fault, but I would always remember.
“Here,” Cesare said quietly, stepping forward to slide the little boy into my arms. It wasn’t just a way for me to hold my nephew, but a way for him to show me that we could be close and that he was safe.
“How’s Bella?” I asked with a sniffle of emotion, rocking Ciro back to sleep as he stirred in my arms, his little arms kicking out at the intrusion of being moved.
I’d spoken to Bella and Fiore every hour of every day since we’d forged the new contract, but I wasn’t there in Philadelphia with Bella like Fiorella was. Though she’d sent a photo, I craved nothing more than to be there to look after her.
“Resting,” Cesare said, a happy, fulfilled smile tilting his lips. “She’s besotted with him, but I know she’s appreciating the few hours of sleep she’ll get without him this evening.”
“We told you we’d come babysit whenever you needed.” Fiore beamed, her bottom lip pouting at Ciro’s sleepy, oblivious face.
Fiorella and Brenno had extended their cottage, making three separate houses conjoined around the central back fields. Brenno had said that he knew Bella and Cesare would have more kids and needed the space, and he couldn’t stand the sound of Ezio’s zombie game every morning, so he’d gifted them all theirown houses, still attached to his, but away from him at the same time.
