Page 119 of Marcus

Upstairs in the penthouse.

But what for?

To say goodbye?

Or to stay?

Marcus didn’t know if he was ready to find out.

“Son?”

Glancing over his shoulder, he found that his father had stepped out of the car with his mother. Cara had a hand tucked in Gian’s arm, and the two stared at him expectantly.

“We’re heading up there,” Gian said.

Marcus nodded, not at all ready. “Yeah, sure, let’s go.”

The first thing Marcus should have noticed when the elevator doors opened to the penthouse was the many guests waiting inside to greet and surprise his mother. Or maybe even the way the entry hall had been changed to include walls covered in portraits of his mother’s favorite people. Her husband, children, and grandchildren. He could have taken note of the way his mother lit up at the sight of her guests, and the realization of just why his father hadn’t sold the penthouse like he said he would.

Instead, Marcus looked for her.

Cella.

And he didn’t see her. Not in the crowd of people already starting to move their way, or even behind them where a few friends of his parents lingered to allow their sons, the wives, and grandchildren to come forward first before inserting their presence, too.

Had she changed her mind?

Did the fact he hadn’t called make her think he didn’t want her at all?

Unfortunately, Marcus didn’t have time to focus on the heaviness coming to rest upon his chest because people crowded around him, and while they were his family, he still had a part to play here. A mask to put on so that he could be who he needed to be when he needed to be it.

The oldest Guzzi son.

Always steadfast.

Forever in control.

“And you helped to make this happen, Marcus?”

He turned to his mother, putting his smile firmly in place to nod for her. Reaching out, he hugged his mother with one arm, and drew her into his side so that he could press a kiss to the very top of her head. She smiled up at him, a line of water in her eyes that she couldn’t quite blink away.

“You love this place,” he said, “and Papa knew you didn’t want to give it up. You just didn’t want it to stay the same.”

Cara dragged in a shaky breath. “That’s why Cella—”

Her name had his smile faltering.

His mother didn’t miss it, and she stopped herself from saying more. Her hand came up to pat his cheek, that motherly touch of hers taking away all his worries for a brief second. Of course, it couldn’t last too long, but he appreciated it all the same while he had it.

“Don’t be sad,” Cara told him as though she just knew, “it’s not over until you say so, Marcus.”

“I don’t think that’s how it works. And tonight is about you, Ma, not me.”

“Well …”

“Come on,” he told his mother, turning her around so that they both faced the rest of the people while he moved them further down the hall, “let’s go see all that Cella had done to the place. There’s one room for the grandkids I think you’re really going to love.”

Speaking of which …