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The one I shot in the ass. Noted.
I had no idea Gabriel and Niccolò aren’t blood. It barely registers as he continues talking, because even though it is comforting, and it makes sense because he is so different from Gabriel…it still feels like a bomb detonating at my feet.
“Even after I found out, I played along. I was relieved I wasn’t Gabriel’s son. I never mentioned it because I know he would’ve killed my mother. But still, growing up with Gabriel as a father figure fucked me up. Gabriel Jr. was the oldest, and obviously you’re aware that Giana shot him in Dante’s club. There was no love lost there. Gabriel Jr. was a fucking prick, a spitting image of Gabriel Sr. in both looks and personality. But Giana and Matteo and I… We learned from Gabriel Jr. We saw we didn’t want to be like him. And we made a pact that we’d be different.”
He pulls me into his lap, as if I could get any closer to him, before continuing.
“We saw a lot, and from a really young age. We were taught how to kill. Told to shoot first and never ask questions. But there’s one moment in time that I think really fucked me entirely. Changed who I am as a person. Made me realize that I don’t deserve…” He stops again, looking me over before shutting his eyes. “Beautiful things.”
“What do you mean?” I ask, faintly remembering him mentioning something about ruining me.
“I was twelve, and I had the biggest crush on—maybe even loved, probably loved, for what it was worth back then—a girl named Kenzie.” His eyes gloss over, as if he’s remembering her, picturing her. “Her mother worked for us. She was one of our house cleaners. Gabriel called them maids. One day we were playing, and he had warned me before never to play with the hired help, but I didn’t listen. I didn’t know what he’d do…”
He lets go of me for mere seconds, just enough time to run his palm over his face, his watch gleaming in the soft lights surrounding us. When his hands find mine again, he continues, that faraway look still in his eyes.
“He came outside when we were playing and just…shot her, Evelina. He shot her. Multiple times. Told me I ‘ruin beautiful things.’ I never forgot it. I got that little girl killed because I didn’t listen to his warning.”
“You couldn’t have possibly known, Niccolò. You were twelve. You couldn’t have known what a monster Gabriel was. That he would—” My voice breaks as I bring my hands to my mouth, tears once again finding their way down my cheeks.
How fucking terrifying. To have the man you think is your father shoot the little girl you’ve come to know and like right in front of you…
Gabriel Amato is the true definition of a monster.
We sit together for a long time, me on his lap, my legs wrapped around his waist, embracing each other. I gently slide my nails up and down his bare back, and he keeps one hand wrapped around the back of my neck, the other running through my hair.
I don’t know how long it is before we finally break apart. Five minutes. Five hours. Time is irrelevant when I’m with this man.
This man that has an ungodly amount of hurt and pain and sadness all wrapped up into one giant-sized package.
For the first time in a very, very long time, I feel understood.
Like there’s someone who understands even an ounce of my pain.
Whocaresabout that pain.
He reaches his hand up and cups my jaw, tipping it up so I’m angled toward him. When his lips meet mine, I feel that safety enveloping me again.
Safety and trust.
And it’s so goddamn foreign I catch myself almost trying to push it away—but I refuse to deny myself this. I refuse to not take comfort in this man, who, for some reason, cares. This man who can be so gentle and kind despite the other side of him. The side he saves for work. For his enemies.
For Gabriel.
I care about Niccolò’s pain the same way I feel he cares about mine. Our pasts bond us in a way nothing else ever could.
And I’d give anything to take it away for him.
37
NICCOLÒ
It’s back to business this morning as I button my cuff links and step into the diner where my men await me.
Dom follows behind me, and Matteo is in the front, and I’m assuming Pietro is already here, trying to figure out his moves on how to deescalate the situation that’s about to unfold.
The next couple of hours are going to be extremely telling about the future of the Amato Crime Family.
I’ve called everyone to the conference hall to discuss the future of our family and where I stand on old traditions and ways of doing things. And if my assumptions are correct, we’re going to lose a decent number of men today. And I’ll let them go.
