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Opting to change routes, I turn right to check on the boys first. I offered to hire a makeup artist for Ciera, but my soon-to-be daughter-in-law’s face flushed, and her eyes rounded at the suggestion. I had to clarify that it was her decision. I’d have Sienna and Sasha help if she didn’t want the professional.
She could have told me she didn’t want any help or didn’t want to make an effort with cosmetics, and I would have allowed it. Her decision was the one I was hoping she’d make. I want her to spend as much bonding time with the girls as I do with Domenico and even Krishna.
I want my kids to accept her. I want my son to give his marriage a real shot, but deep down, I also know he needs more than what a traditional marriage between two people has to offer. They’re the future heads of three cultures, and together, they could be a powerful force that no one can break.
Rounding the corner of the hallway, I pass the front door and both sets of stairs. As we get close to the living room, Matteo steps around the entrance, followed by my two sons and Mischa’s boy.
“You’re back.” There is joy in Giovanni’s tone that only someone that has known him for over forty years would detect. He’s always been better at masking his emotions and feelings than I have when around the people I cherish the most. “Have you already picked up Brooklyn?”
“No,” Matteo says as a low chime sounds, telling me the front door opened behind G and me. “But she is home now.”
Hearing Matteo call my residence home relieves a tired man’s soul. He’s so much like my old friend it’s mind-boggling that no one sees what’s right in front of their eyes. I honestly thought that would be a fight between us when he and my daughter made their relationship official.
If Matteo and Brooklyn weren’t living here, Giovanni wouldn’t be staying in the pool house. He had an apartment close to where Matteo’s townhouse is located. Between working for me on the down-low, he searched for Romano’s connection to him going to prison and the police commissioner, as well as watching my son-in-law and his daughter from afar. He kept an eye on Matteo’s mother too.
“Daddy!” Brooklyn shouts, her voice excited. Matteo didn’t pick her up from his parents’ last night, opting to have his mom drop her off this evening, which worked in my favor. I couldn’t have planned this any better had I tried. Other than the fact that I did invite Marty to my son’s wedding. “Let me down, Nana.”
I can feel Giovanni’s body stiffen without looking at him. I didn’t tell him I invited her either. He would have made himself scarce, and I didn’t want to take that chance.
This moment needs to happen.
There are too many secrets within these walls, and I aim to pull every single one of them out before I leave this world and this family in my children’s hands.
It’ll be good to get one of those secrets out in the open before the ceremony commences.
This has been a long time coming, and my friend is going to be furious with me, but I’m okay with that. He’ll get over it and thank me later.
“Miss me, Uncle G?” Brooklyn looks over her shoulder after she squeezes between us to get to her dad.
“Of course I did, curls.”
Looking to my left, I watch his head slightly recline as a breath leaves his mouth before he rights it again, then he straightens his shoulders. Rolling his head, he eyes me without saying a word.
“No,” Marty declares with venom. Perhaps even a bit of sorrow is laced within her tone. “It’s not possible. You are not supposed to be here.”
“It’s not a big deal, Ma,” Matteo says as he scoops his daughter into his arms.
I snap my gaze to Domenico. “Take Brooklyn upstairs so that she can get changed.” Flicking my eyes to Lorenzo, I follow by saying, “Your twin is in my office. Go let her know Brooklyn is home so she can help her into her dress and do her hair.”
“Not a big deal?” Marty seethes.
Dom reaches for Brooklyn, doing what I said without hesitation, planting her on his hip and likely wrinkling his tuxedo jacket. “Let’s go, toots.”
“I don’t want to get dressed. I don’t want you to get married. You’re marrying me,” Brooklyn spits out as she crosses her little arms over her pink T-shirt.
“Hate to break it to you, but you’re my niece now. It’s not happening, kid. The best thing for you to do is to go make nice with your soon-to-be aunt.” There is a lightness in Dom’s tone that’s rare. If there ever was a light to my son-in-law knocking up Brooklyn’s mother back in high school, it’s his daughter. For reasons I don’t even know, she softens Domenico, and he needs a lot of softening to counter the blackness he pulls into his soul.
“Let me down then. I can find Si all by myself, but I’m not going to this stupid wedding.”
“Brooklyn Martina, stop being a brat,” Matteo says in a tone only a father knows how to utilize. “Do as you’re told, or you’ll find yourself grounded from your iPad and TV.”
As Domenico steps past me, Brooklyn huffs out a dramatic breath, but the little spitfire doesn’t say another word. Her expression is doing all the talking, making me school my lips so that I don’t smile.
Ren and Krishna follow behind, leaving Matteo, Giovanni, and me with Marty in the foyer, where she stands close to the door like she wants to bolt, but the fire in her eyes that I haven’t seen in far too long makes me think she’s fighting a battle: leave or go toe-to-toe with the man she refuses to admit she once loved—maybe still does.
Sighing, Giovanni pivots around as Matteo passes me to embrace his mother. I finally turn to face her as well. Only that warm smile he has for his mother is about to be blown to pieces, and for that, I am sorry for the heartache and animosity he’s no doubt going to feel. But I’m not sorry that the truth is coming to light twenty-four years too late.
“You completely understated just how much my mother dislikes you, old man.” Matteo laughs as he eyes Giovanni, not grasping the situation yet.
