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Vittorio.
Usually deep and calm, his voice sounded rough and as if he was in pain.
She turned to face the man who’d turned her life upside down in the best way possible. He looked tall and handsome and worried. He looked so very dear. It didn’t hurt that he had a small boy in his arms that meant everything to her.
“Yes,” she said, tears filling her eyes as she looked at the two people she loved most in the world. “I want to go home.”
For fourteen years she’d had to take care of herself. For fourteen years she’d had to pretend she didn’t need anything from anyone, when in truth, she needed everything.
Love, comfort, tenderness, support.
“I want to go home with you. Please take me back to Paterno,” she choked.
The haunted expression lifted from Vittorio’s dark eyes and then he slowly smiled. “I hoped you’d say that.”
“Oh, Vitt, I don’t know what I’m doing. I just know that I got scared, but I’m so tired of being scared, Vitt. I’m so tired of running and looking over my shoulder and worrying the bad guys will find me.”
“I guess one found you this morning,” Vitt said, wrapping his free arm around her, bringing her close to him.
“Yes.” She pressed her cheek to his chest, feeling the warmth of her husband and son. “But I should have come to you, Vitt. I should have told you. You wouldn’t have panicked. You would have known what to do.”
“Marco can’t hurt you,” Vitt answered, brushing his lips across her brow as his arm squeezed tighter around her waist. “The FBI were able to trace his call. It came from near a cell tower in downtown Detroit and the Detroit police arrested him an hour ago. The police have been looking for him since your sister’s death, and now they have him. He’s going away for a long time. He won’t ever be able to threaten you again.”
Jillian’s lips curved in a watery smile. “So you did know what to do.”
“I’m a d’Severano, cara. I know how to take care of my family.”
His deep voice rumbled through her, his tone fierce, proud. “Am I still your family?”
“Forever.”
Tears filled her eyes. Her chest grew tight and she struggled to take a breath. “I’m sorry I didn’t trust you. I’m sorry I didn’t come to you right away. I was just so scared he’d hurt you or Joe or someone else in your family—”
Vitt reached up to wipe her tears away. “I understand. Just as I understand you’ve had no one to be there for you since you were a little girl. But we’ll work on trust, and we’ll learn to be a strong family together, yes?”
“Yes.” She blinked to clear her vision. “So you’re not mad at me?”
“Of course not.”
Joe wiggled in Vittorio’s arms, and reached out with both arms to Jillian. “Mama.”
Jillian looked up, over Joe’s head, to Vitt. “Can I hold him?”
“You better. Your little boy cried for you endlessly on the plane. Fortunately it was my own plane so no one complained.”
Jillian didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. And then she laughed because Vittorio had the most amazing way of making her feel good. With him, life was the way she’d always dreamed it should be.
“Can we go home now?” she asked.
“Most definitely.”
EPILOGUE
eleven-a
nd-a-half-month-old Joseph was supposed to be the ring boy, but he refused to walk down the aisle in his miniature black suit to the front of the d’Severano chapel where Vitt waited in his elegant black tuxedo. Instead Joseph walked down the aisle swinging his pillow in circles before stopping at his grandfather’s wheelchair at the outside of the wooden pews.
“Up,” he said to Salvatore, dropping his pillow. “Up, Papa,” he repeated, wanting to be put on his grandfather’s lap, because in his nine days in Paterno he’d learned to love many things and many people but his grandfather Salvatore was probably his favorite.
