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Ten years later
T
I never imagined my world would be so complete, so fucking perfect. To think I almost blindly went along with my father’s plans for an arranged marriage all those years ago. Until Holly. A single glance at the woman, and I knew she’d be the one to save me. To change the trajectory of my life, for the better. And she did. She still does. Every fucking day.
While my worldisperfect, the word doesn’t come close enough to describing her. She’s fucking extraordinary. I always thought God was playing some fucked-up trick: giving her to me, only to take her away again. But even heaven would have trouble prying that angel from my arms.
It took a long time to forgive my mother for hiding my biological father’s identity from me. I’ve had a conversation with her. And although she had very valid reasons—she was a scared, young teenage girl—I still held a grudge for a while.
Thanks to Angelica and Izzy, I’ve managed to build somewhat of a connection with Al Donatello. Will I ever call himDad? Absolutely fucking not. But my kids do refer to him as Nonno. Especially considering he and my mother are fucking married now. But that’s a story for another fucking day.
I watch Theo and Matteo play ball out in the field Holly insisted they needed. A fucking football field in our backyard. You really can’t get more all-American than that. She says the boys have too much pent-up energy, and the more time they spend outdoors, the better off we all are. I learned quickly that my wife is right ninety-nine percent of the time. I don’t bother arguing with her on most things. She wins every time I fucking do anyway.
Romeo stumbles across the deck, attempting to climb up the railing. The one-year-old’s not happy that his older brothers are out on the grass and he’s not. Ever since he could move, he’s been following the older two around everywhere.
“Don’t let him fall, T,” Holly warns as she watches his resourcefulness at trying to make it over.
“Dolcezza, have I ever let any of them fall?” I ask, offended. I lean in, pressing my lips to her forehead before bending down and kissing Luca’s tiny little head as he sleeps on Holly’s chest. I can’t help but want more children. Holly really does create the perfect offspring.
“You’re not getting me knocked up again, T. We were meant to stop after Matteo.”
“And we did, for several years,” I argue. There is a six-year age gap between Matteo and the twins. Theo is the oldest of our boys; he just turned nine. Then there is Matteo, who’s seven. Romeo and Luca came as a surprise six years later. “Maybe we should just try for one more. Fifth one might be a girl,” I suggest.
“Not a bloody chance in hell, T. You can keep your…thingwell and clear away from me.” Holly glares in my direction.
I bend down and pick up the rebellious one-year-old. “You’d like a little sister, wouldn’t you, Romeo?” I put his mouth to my ear. “What was that? Yes?” I smirk at my wife. “See? He wants a sister. How can you say no to this face?” I ask.
“I have a feeling a lot of girls are going to have trouble saying no to that face. But I won’t be one of them.”
“We’ll work on her,” I tell him.
“Ma’am, dinner is ready.” Rosa pokes her head out the door. Holly was resistant to the idea of having a cook at first, but I want to make things as easy as possible for her. Also, her Italian cooking skills are practically nonexistent, not that I’ll ever admit that to anyone.
“Thank you, Rosa. T, get those two to come in and wash up.”
“Theo! Matteo! Dinner’s ready. Come on inside.”
“Dad, did you see that tackle? I think I almost broke him,” Theo says, pulling his younger brother to his feet.
“Shake it off, Matteo. You’ll be fine.” Am I hard on my children? Not at all. But, unlike my wife, I also don’t wrap them up in cotton wool. I think she forgets the world we live in sometimes.
When I look at these boys, part of me hopes they never want to follow in my footsteps. That they go off to college and lead normal lives—well, as normal as possible, given their gene pool. Then, there’s another part that wants one of them to carry on our family legacy. Both the legitimate and the not-so-legitimate innerworkings. Over the years, with Holly’s assistance, our above-board earnings are almost matching those we take in from our…otherventures. My wife is fucking smart and has a mind for business and investments. Her advice has never steered me wrong.
“Don’t worry, Dad. Next time, I’ll duck quicker.” Matteo runs up to me.
“Good. Make sure you do. Never let anyone get the better of you.”
“Never,” he parrots, sprinting past me.
“Theo, wait up.” I stop my eldest in his tracks. “You need to be looking out for your brothers, not fucking hurting them. There are plenty of other people in our world who will want to do just that: hurt them, inflict pain, bring one or all of you down. You boys are always on the same team, got it?”
“Got it, Dad. It’s just a game. Don’t worry, I’ll always protect them. No matter what, right?” Theo says.
“No matter what,” I repeat the phrase we’ve always told each other.Family comes first. Always. No matter what.“Come on, don’t keep your mother waiting.”
Epilogue
Holly
