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“Trust me, Mama, they’re shocked and hurt.”
I take a deep breath. “They have no right to be hurt, Alessio. This doesn’t concern them right now. Sure, Anthony’s their nephew, but until they can be trusted to treat him with love and actually show that he’s wanted, they don’t get to have my answers or respect.”
I’m standing firm by my words. Until his brothers can show that they actually want to forge a relationship with my son, they can fuck off. I’m not afraid of them. I don’t care what theythink of me. I made a mistake by keeping Anthony’s birth from Alessio. I didn’t purposely set out to hurt the man. I did what I honestly thought would be best. I know now that it wasn’t and I’m not going to stand in the way of Alessio and Anthony having a relationship. I’m not vindictive, nor am I an awful person. Alessio never hurt me or Anthony. He deserves the chance to be a father.
“I’ll talk to them,” he tells me. “But, Mama, I don’t give a fuck what they say. You’re mine, no matter what. Your ass is in my bed, you're at my side, and our boy is going to be where we are. Nothing is ever going to change that. I’ve wanted you every day for the past four years, and I’m going to want you every day until the day I die.”
Oh my God. I pull in a shaky breath. His words mean so much to me, but there’s a guard around my heart that has never been opened, and I’m not sure if it ever can be.
“I want to go slow,” I say to him, hoping my words don’t hurt him. “You and Anthony need to build a relationship before we even think about anything else.”
I need to find a way to trust him. To be able to know he’ll be there for our son no matter what.
“Slow?” he repeats. “That’s not something I’m capable of, Gabriella. I’ve been fucking waiting, four years of waiting. Now that I’ve found you, you think I’m going to go slow?” He shakes his head. “Not a fucking chance.”
“Gabs, sweetheart,” my dad says as he gets to his feet. I take a deep breath and follow him as he moves toward the kitchen. “Talk to me, sweetheart, what’s going on?”
I lean against the counter, trying my hardest not to think about what happened here with Alessio earlier. I really need to clean the countertop.
“I don’t know, Dad,” I say softly as I get my cleaning supplies out. “I’m so confused.”
It’s true. Alessio is dead set on wanting things between us to be full speed ahead. But that’s never been an option. When we were together years ago, it was hot, consuming, and amazing. But it wasn’t more than a few nights of fucking. That’s it. Alessio’s expectations aren’t realistic. I can’t automatically get into a relationship with him. I can’t do what he wants. It’s not fair to any of us, and it’s definitely not fair to have Anthony believe we’re a family and for everything to fall apart. I can’t do that.
I scrub the countertop hard, wanting to ensure it’s sanitized properly.
“Gabby, talk to me,” he implores, his eyes soft and filled with worry.
So I do. I tell him everything that happened four years ago and everything that happened today—leaving out the part of us having sex. That’s something he doesn’t need to know. I explain my hesitancy in wanting to jump into a relationship with him. I tell him about the worry I have of him returning to New York and then having to choose between the Famiglia and his son.
“Not everyone is me, sweetheart,” he tells me as he pulls me into his arms. “I fucked up more than I could ever make up for. I hurt my wife—even though I hated her, I hurt her. Every time I would come and see you, she’d die a little more inside. The humiliation, anger, and embarrassment she’d feel, knowing I was happiest when I was with you, was hard for her to bear. I made a mistake in choosing to not harm her more than I had already done. I’m sorry that by doing that, I hurt you.”
“I know you’re sorry, Dad, and I’ve forgiven you, but the pain I felt is still with me even to this day. I’m sorry that I keep bringing it up.” I feel guilty knowing that every time I speak about the pain I felt, his guilt hits him hard.
His arms tighten around me. “Don’t apologize, sweetheart. But I need you to listen to me, okay?”
I nod. He’s been a huge support to me over the past five years. He’s made amends. He’s trying. I’ll always love him, no matter what.
“Give Alessio a chance, Gabs. The man looks at you as though the world fucking revolves around you. He’s smitten, for sure.”
I laugh. “He tells me he’s obsessed.”
Dad smirks. “He seems it. You need to decide if you’d live happily without giving it a chance. If I were to have a guess, you’d regret it. Giving him a chance doesn’t mean that you’re jumping into a family, Gabs. It means you’re giving you and Anthony the best chance to find out who Alessio is and if a relationship is what you truly want.”
I rest my head against his chest. That’s exactly what I’m unsure about. Can it be that simple?
“I didn’t want to be a part of the mafia world, Dad. I wanted to have a quiet life.”
He nods. “I know that, and it’s the main reason I kept you hidden. But, sweetheart, sometimes what we want and what happens are two different things. No matter what happens now, you’re going to be in this world because Alessio is always going to be in Anthony’s life.”
He’s right. There’s no way Alessio is going to walk away from his son. That’s not who he is, and I’m truly grateful for that because it would break my heart for him to leave without looking back.
“Trust your heart, Gabs,” Dad says as he presses his lips against my head. “It’ll steer you right.” He releases me and walks out of the kitchen, leaving me to be deep in thought about what it is that I really want to do. I begin to clean every countertop that’s in the kitchen.
It’s not just about me, but also what is right for Anthony and Alessio. I know that having Alessio here with us will addle my mind. The man makes me weak at the knees, and I forgetmy own name. Having him here constantly, I’ll be flat on my back with him fucking me without a second thought. He has that power over me. He’s able to have me worked up that much that I give in to whatever he wants.
I hear the sound of heels clicking against the floor, and I brace, knowing that it’s either Makenna or Holly. Probably both knowing my luck.
“What you did was wrong,” the Irish accent mixed with American is soft yet filled with anger.
