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But not yet…I wasn’t ready just yet.
Intuition told me to keep her, at least for a little while.
Intuition or want.
Because I wanted her by my side, wanted to find out who she was and how Fausto had gotten her.
Curiosity then.
And as soon as I knew, I would either send her home or use her as a bargaining chip in my fight against Fausto.
It was always good to have something up your sleeve. Especially playing a game with life-and-death stakes.
I took the stairs from the underground parking into the house two at a time. Eager to get this reunion over with.
I bypassed the family room—a room we never used—and made my way straight to the kitchen.
The kitchen was the soul of every good Italian home.
And it was the soul of ours.
I stopped when I saw my mother. She was still beautiful—even though her jet-black hair was streaked with gray strands, she didn’t look a day older than she did when I last saw her.
That morning of the day I’d tried so hard to forget.
No wonder my father had snatched her up as soon as he’d laid eyes on her. She’d been barely eighteen when they met in Rome—her first stop starting out her gap year.
“Mamma.”
She froze, then very carefully put down her wineglass and turned toward me.
I could see the uncertainty in her eyes—uncertainty and joy.
A perfect mirror of my own feelings.
But I shouldn’t have had any doubt.
She opened her arms, tears gathering in her eyes, and I crossed the room and took her in mine.
Home.
It took a while until her sobs subsided, and I just held her in my arms.
I’d forgotten how it felt. Forgotten how much I loved my mother. How good and whole she was—despite being the wife of an Italian Mafia king.
She leaned back and skimmed my cheek with her thumb. “I’m so happy you’re back, Gabriel. Happy and sad.”
Her eyes clouded again.
“What’s going on, Mamma?”
She sighed, struggled out of my arms, and took a healthy sip of her wine.
“You’re a widow. You should be perfectly okay to stay that way and never marry again,” I said. “I’m sure Alessandro and Cristo are beyond happy to have you cooking and caring for them. So, what’s this I’m hearing about you marrying Uncle Fausto?”
She sighed, avoided looking at me.
No fucking way. I’ve changed the whole trajectory of my life to be here. I at least deserved some answers.
